Things have been fantastic in Little Korea (that’s what Glenn calls my house)! I mean, everything else ranges from so-so to poo-poo, but I love being home these days, learning Kpop dances, trying to read Hansul, inhaling the stench of gochugaru permeating from the kitchen.

Honestly, open our refrigerator and see all the traditional Korean kitchen staples!

Which is why I think Henry doesn’t mind my new lifestyle as much as you would think. Henry is just really great at adapting to whatever phase/crisis I’m going through (Chooch is just really good at ignoring it altogether.) And if there are three things Henry FUCKING LOVES to do, it’s: cooking, grocery shopping, and watching instructional cooking videos on YouTube. So learning the ins and outs of Korean cuisine is a challenge he’s happily accepted.  (I don’t think he likes it when I call him oppa, though.)

And I love reaping the rewards! Henry makes some bomb jjigae! And I get to use chopsticks everyday!

Henry’s Hallyu Hell….or HEAVEN?!

We hit up the Asian markets every weekend and sometimes Henry even goes without me during the week, WTF?! When I found that out, I felt cheated.

Chooch is only interested in the Asian candy and ice cream, and is known to yell things like, “I wish Korea never happened to you!” to me. Chooch hates when I like something before he does.  However, I heard him in his room last week singing Black Pink so what’s up now, Chooch. I hear you.

Henry made me bibimbap for dinner last Sunday and I cried because it was so great and brought back memories of when I used to order that all the time at Ginza, back in the beginning of our relationship when we used to eat all sorts of international fare because we didn’t yet have the pickiest child in the world.

Exotic fruit salads back in action.

Henry treats himself to Samancos after eating his Korean dinner. He bought these FOR HIMSELF and when I ask him to share, he yells, “You have a box of B•B•Big in the freezer!” Well yeah, but I want something that’s not mine.

And now Henry’s mom is suddenly very interested in my new k-diet. When she was at our house last week, she sat enrapt on the couch hanging off my every word. Then I made her watch some KpopX routines and I pointed out my bias during a BIGBANG live video. She considered what she was watching and then said, “Yeah. I like this better than our music here. I don’t know what they’re saying, but I can tell they’re at least saying something. Unlike AMERICAN music.”

And there you have it. Judy’s kpop review. Maybe next time she’s here, I’ll live blog her reactions to Red Velvet and EXID videos.

***

Aside from food, we’ve been watching tons of Korean variety shows, especially the ones that have had BIGBANG on, because welcome to obsession. And you would think Henry would reject this, retreat to the bathroom and watch Blacklist on his phone in peace, work some more on the curious ditch he’s digging in the backyard….but no, he sits down and ACTUALLY LAUGHS! Sometimes he gets irritated if the subtitles aren’t good, which only means he’s afraid of missing out on something good.

Lately, we’ve been watching a lot of Running Man, Weekly Idol, Infinity Challenge, and the BIGBANG making-of reality show and every single time, I say, “He really is fabulous” when they refer to G-Dragon as the fabulous leader in the opening credits. And Henry just nods like it isn’t the 10th time he’s heard it this week. Anyway, last night’s viewing inspired this convo:

Henry: I read that Se7en is the reason things changed for celebrities in the Korean military.

Me: OMG you’re reading about Kpop on your own time?!

Henry: …what? No…on someone else’s time.

And then he mumbled something about wanting to know more than me.

Later, we were getting ready for bed and I noticed Penelope (see also: Peen Lop, Jon Benet, Penis) perched on my dresser.

Me: if Penelope was a member of BIGBANG, who do you think she’d be?

Henry, muffled by sleep: I dunno.

I thought for sure he wouldn’t answer, but then…

Henry: Taeyang.

Me: Good assessment! What about Drew?

Henry, no hesitation: Seungri.

Me: OMG I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT TOO

And then Henry mocked my laughter and fell asleep.

***

I guess this was my subconscious New Years Resolution. Like how some people quit smoking, I wanted to quit being the person I was in 2016 when all the shit happened. And I  just happened to be getting back into Kpop aerobics toward the end of the year and it all just kind of fell into place. All these Korean vlogs started playing on YouTube after I’d finish up a KpopX workout and before I knew it, I was learning about sasaeng and tteokbokki, and watching Canadians give a tour of their Korean apartments, and realizing that holy shit BIGBANG is so much more than just music for fun KpopX routines.

And then the next thing I knew, I had imprinted with Korea. A whole country this time. That’s how empty my heart is, it needs a whole entire country to fill it.

When Boots comes home and starts stomping around and slamming doors and fighting with his new roommate (some younger guy and they fight about the same shit he fought with Phyllis about: $$$$ and friends, or lack thereof in both cases), I giddily blast kpop so fucking loud and pretend like I’m South Korea and that motherfucker in North Korea.

And now this is honestly one of the few joys I have in life, and I am fucking bear-hugging it so step off.

***

I will conclude with this week’s Friday Video pick, because I felt everyone in my little group here at work needed some cheering up:

But even better, here is a video of MY BIAS G-DRAGON dancing to Cheer Up, which Amber2 and Lauren both said cheered them up even more than the actual song because G-DRAGON.

But then Amber mused, “Wow. I like his nude turtleneck. What look is he going for…like, Michael Jackson and….old office lady?”

And it was at this point that I had to remind everyone that he’s a fashion icon so BACK OFF.

*I might need to make this an actual category.

Here’s your weekly garbage dump of sloppy sentences.

• The cats when Chooch makes a noise.
• The biggest news I think I have right now is that WE FINALLY QUIT CABLE. Well, we tried to, anyway. We’ve been talking about cutting the cord for years now, and we ALMOST did it last summer but then I had hockey remorse so we didn’t cancel. But finally, I realized, “Holy shit, we literally never watch real TV.” It’s always Netflix and YouTube! Plus we have Roku. And the few times I do put on real TV, I’m like, “Holy shit, there is literally nothing I want to watch” so then I put on CNN and feel depressed, then switch to Food Network and watch a show about cupcakes that I’ve already seen but maybe not, but aren’t they all the same?! So Henry called Comcast on Saturday and stayed firm throughout the whole conversation, all the way up until the part where he said, “We just want to keep the Internet” and then found out that we would actually be charged so much more for our Internet usage that we would basically still be paying the same amount we pay for all these channels we don’t watch!!! So in the end, he got it knocked down to the very basic package, no HD, no DVR, but we still have Internet and the bill is over $100 less than it was so ONE STEP CLOSER TO KOREA, basically.
  • I guess I will still be able to watch the Penguins games too, just not on an HD channel. That’s OK, I still like hockey even when it’s all stretched out.
• Last week, I emailed my Friday Kpop Video recipients a Bigbang video (this one, if you’re interested), and Todd was like, “This actually isn’t bad” but Glenn turned it off after about a minute and said, “That’s enough of that.” I posted about it on Facebook and FOUR of my work friends said they wanted to subscribe to Friday Kpop Video and I was so excited about this! I told Henry that I started a new craze at work and he said, “What, the ‘Get Away From Erin Quickly’ phase?” Ugh.

• The angst has been transferred.

• Hopefully, by the time Warped Tour rolls around, I’ll have a desire to go to an American music festival.
  • One thing I’ll tell you about being a fan of Warped Tour-ish bands and living in America: the amount of chances you have to see your favorite bands is off the charts. There are shows I skip because I just saw that band a few months ago and it’s no big deal to just shrug it off, you know? But now that I’ve brainwashed myself with kpop, I feel FUCKING TRAGIC. Not only do they rarely come to the States, they also seem to disband at alarming rates. And the boys all have to enlist in the Korean army, no matter what! Which isn’t that big of deal to me because, unlike with our music, I find myself gravitating more toward the girls groups. However, my ultimate idol group, Bigbang, are all enlisting within the next two years, starting next month for the first one, and I am wrecked over this because who knows if they will even still want to continue Bigbang when they’re all out?! I MIGHT NEVER GET TO SEE THEM. And believe me I am prepared to travel across the world for them because my sasaeng fandom is real.
    • Let me tell you a real life story that happened this morning: When I woke up, all of this military stuff hit me like REALLY HARD and I started frantically texting Henry, you know, like this is our own son enlisting and not five Korean men I have never met in my whole life. Henry was like, “It will be OK.” Or some other fatherly thing, because he knows that in times like these, it’s best to tiptoe around the Crazy. So then I was on the trolley, reading more stuff about it on my phone and trying not to cry because my Trolley Hero was sitting next to me (seriously, she will tell people to move over if they’re hoarding an empty seat next to them and I think she’s so badass for that), and so by the time I got to work, I was like GLENN GUESS WHAT and before I knew it, TEARS WERE FALLING OUT OF MY EYES as I was telling him about Bigbang and he had this “OMG” look on his face, like he was wondering if he should call 911 because I was finally having that public breakdown that all of the psychics have been calling for years. So then in a fit of confusion, I started laughing WHILE crying because I was so embarrassed that I was crying in front of Glenn so then I think he thought I was just being dumb, but little did he know, 15 minutes late I was secretly crying at my desk again. I AM WRECKED OVER THIS, LEAVE ME ALONE.

• At work today, we were talking about the flu and Glenn mumbled something about how he went to the doctor and doesn’t have the plague after all. “Oh, were you sick?” I asked, honestly surprised because hello, Little Miss Solipsistic over here. “Uh yeah, didn’t you hear me coughing all last week?” he asked all incredulously, I guess because he sits right behind me. “Oh, I thought you were just choking,” I shrugged.
  • And then I came home and told Henry this story, at which point I started coughing so hard I choked.
• Hey speaking of karma: Yesterday, I made fun of the gif that was on our department Wiki page because it said Happy Valetine’s Day. Valentine was spelled wrong, and I always get super self-righteous about that. So I was all, “kekekeke mispellings lol.” And then today Amber2 said something about how I always get so mad about typos and grammatical errors and I was all, “FUCK YEAH EDUCATION” and SERIOUSLY THREE MINUTES LATER I went on Facebook to reply to a comment and saw this:

• We has a baby shower, guys! Of course that post already had like 150 views but what do I care, everyone already knows I write like English is my second language. Then a few hours later, I texted Henry and it said, “I just want to ran away.” I JUST WANT TO RAN AWAY!?!? OMG am I having mini-strokes in my sleep? You would never know I excelled in every English class I ever had. I guess when I move to Korea, teaching English won’t be an option. There’s always KpopX instructor, though!
• Last week at work was January Birthday Celebration day, so Shannon sent out an email saying that there was cake and cookies over on some table in another area of the department. I was having a Bad Day, so I decided, “You know what, it might not be bingsoo or chapssaltteok, but I’m going to get myself a goddamn cookie.” So I went over to the table and there WERE NO COOKIES. There were CUPCAKES. I have been burnt too many times by bad cupcakes (I’m picky) so I actually stamped my feet a little bit and cried, “There aren’t any cookies!” but there was no around to hear my anguish, so I made sure that I did a replay when I went back to my area. Todd and Glenn were like, “oh well” but Shannon overheard my outburst and sent out a new email to the department explaining that she meant “cupcakes” and not “cookies” and that she was sorry if she got anyone’s hopes up (…..Erin). OH SNAP! That moment when you’re called out in a department-wide email for being a crybaby! I laughed so hard and it made my day better, cookies or not. Sandy told me that she and Missy were also duped by the cookie false alarm, so that made me feel better. And Todd admitted that he also was stoked for cookies, but that when he saw there weren’t any, he thought, “Oh, but there are cupcakes!” and just had a cupcake instead. MUST BE NICE HAVING LOW STANDARDS.

• Lol, Henry eats his tteokbokki with a fork like a dummy. In all seriousness though, my kpop diet is going amazingly well. When I did Weight Watchers, I lost weight to a point and then I plateau’d forever. I also was so hungry and tired all of the time, because it’s just not a great diet for a vegetarian to be on, so exercising was a drag and something I had to force myself to do. But my weight was just like, “Nah, I’m good right here at this number.” Since I started my completely made-up K-Diet which started as a joke, I’ve lost 7 pounds in 3 weeks (that’s a lot for me because I lose weight slowly) but I can see a big difference in how my clothes fit, plus I’m never hungry now that I’m eating mostly Korean food and I have so much energy to do KpopX and all my other kpop aerobics. It really is a new lifestyle. Before Henry’s mom came over on Sunday, I asked him if she knows I’m Korean now and he said, “No. Because you’re not.” Whatever Henry. You don’t know. “Well, yeah, actually I do,” he said.

• While Henry was on the aforementioned phone call with Comcast last Saturday, Chooch and I were stalking Boots from all of the windows. Some broad came over with shit for him I guess and he was standing in MY FRONTYARD, screaming, “Just pull down the fucking driveway!!!” because he is unable to talk without swearing. So the broad pulled down the driveway and he extracted a large suitcase. I’ve been putting two and two together and now I think that whoever this new broad is has moved in with him?! She was banging on our window earlier this window and almost gave Judy a heart attack. Then she screamed, “SORRY WRONG HOUSE” and started banging on Boots’ door while screaming, “YOU LOCKED ME OUT!!!” Then about an hour later, I was trying to eat my ramyeon dinner and heard them over there fighting, so hooray. There’s a new Phyllis in town. :(

• I had to cancel an ice cream date on Saturday with Chris & Monica because we had too much to do for the baby shower (that we was hazzing the next day, you guys, that we was hazzing) but luckily I had a B*B*Big as a replacement.
• Henry just told Chooch to “stop being like mommy and crying.” WOW.

• Henry: “How many times are you going to watch this fucking thing?” A MILLION TIMES A DAY, HENRY. I can’t believe I wasted so many years on Jonny Craig when G-Dragon was out there in Korea being a billion times more perfect. Henry is in hallyu hell.
  • OMG I just started sobbing again, someone please send help. This latest bipolar crash is going to be a long way down. :(

<3<3<3<3<3<3

And now you know what happens when I try to escape reality: I motherfucking imprint with an entire country. Signing off with this video that I watch EVERY DAY because That.Falsetto. Ughhhhhh. I’m in deep. This is on par with the height of my Cure mania and I’m really scared.

Picture it:

The year was 1999.

A hot July evening.

I was 19.

It had been about 6 months since I quit my job at stupid EchoStar, and my old co-worker Roniece wanted to catch up. The problem was that Roniece was over 21 and she didn’t want to go to Eat n Park for a motherfucking milkshake, you know? Her plan was to go to a strip club. Some male strip club in Braddock, one of the less savory neighborhoods of Pittsburgh.

This sounded like A Great Idea to me. I mean, this was back when I used to spray paint my feet gold, so most ideas sounded like great ideas to me.

My friend Keri wanted to join us, and now it was really starting to feel like a legit party. So on this hot summer evening in 1999, Keri and I drove to Roniece’s house in McKeesport, where Keri got stung by a bee and that’s how I found out that my friend of approx. 10 years was allergic to bees. Roniece’s grandma performed some old housewives’ miracle and Keri was healed, but that’s a story for another time because I only want to talk about myself right now.

THIS STORY IS ABOUT ME.

Before we left Roniece’s, she pulled out a fat blunt and this back when I was dumb and did stupid things like pop pills full of Ephedrine and starve myself for days because So Fat, Such Chunk. So Keri was all, “JUST SO NO” but I was all, “GIMME DAT” and thus started the night out on a high note.

OH….!

Now we were ready. Roniece wanted to go to a bar beforehand and I pulled my pockets inside out, like “Hello, no fake ID.” But Roniece just laughed and promised me that Keri and I wouldn’t get carded where she was taking us….

…which was the diviest bar that ever dove on some pot-hole ridden side street in Duquesne. We had to park in an alley, and go in through a suspiciously plain door on the side of a building that had no name, no windows.

“Just be cool. Don’t draw attention to us and ya’ll will be fine,” Roniece prepped our underage asses before entering The Bar.

Motown wafted out as soon as we pulled back the door; the bar inside was small and non-descript, not even the tiniest hint of saloon aesthetic. It was all over-flowing ashtrays and varying shades of brown. The patrons were older, urban, and all-around unenthused at the prospect of sharing their sacred space with a bunch of youngins. Keri and I got a few quick side-eyes as we sat down at the bar, but everyone quickly went back to staring into their beers while we giddily shared a pitcher of Long Island iced teas with Roniece.

Thank god I can’t remember how cool we must have thought we were, sitting at some sticky bar, drinking amateur cocktails in the company of legit sad sacks hiding from their wives.

I started digging around in my purse.

“What are you doing?” Keri asked suspiciously. Homegirl had been my friend since elementary school and was well-versed in my shady ways. My every movement was a cause for concern in her eyes.

“Just looking for some change so I can request a song on the jukebox,” I answered happily, because Long Island iced teas.

Armed with quarters, I went over to the jukebox and assessed the situation. Clinked in a quarter, punched in the numbers, went back to the bar.

“What did you play,” Roniece asked, right as the SEXY SAX INTRO of “Careless Whisper” cut through the thick swirls of cigarette smoke and regret.

You know that scene in Adventures in Babysitting where the suburban kids infiltrate a blues club? And everyone immediately stops talking because disgusted glares work better in a quiet room? That’s what happened on this night, in this bar, in this dilapidated part of town.

Every last bloodshot eyeball was focused on me, the giddy white bitch who skipped-to-her-lou into their bar and polluted their nicotine-curtained air with George Michael’s oozing sex appeal.

Keri covered her face.

“What? It’s Careless Whisper,” I said.

“Yeah, I know what it is!” Keri snapped and went back to shielding her face from the scowls attacking us from every angle. 

Roniece threw her head back and let out a huge laugh. “Girl! I told you to be cool!”

And I’m like, “But this is fucking George Michael, man!” Literally I had no idea what I did wrong, because anytime I hear that song, it always felt so right.

SO VERY RIGHT.

We left after a second pitcher of Long Island iced tea, and before I had a chance to request any other tracks from the Carlton Banks Greatest Hits mixtape.

This next part has nothing to do with George Michael, but it does have to do with the moment I died.

We arrived at whatever that goddamn strip club was called in Braddock, but it wasn’t open yet. I remember standing inside the vestibule while Roniece spoke with someone inside, and suddenly I wasn’t feeling right. I stepped back outside to get some air, and the next thing I knew, I was going down, but Ke$ha wasn’t around yet to yell timber.

This next part happened while I was dead.

(Because I swear to you, I was dead. I had done DIED on that sidewalk outside of Sleazy Braddock Stripperie.)

It was Christmas and I was little again! My Pappap was there. We were on the big porch, which is where most of the Christmases were celebrated throughout my childhood. I remember being overcome by extreme happiness and warmth (and most importantly – toys). I was engulfed in one of my greatest childhood memories!

SO THIS WAS HEAVEN.

And then I heard my aunt Sharon calling my name.

Erin Erin Erin.

Over and over.

And then I saw A BRIGHT WHITE LIGHT.

It doesn’t get any more textbook than that.

I was dead.

But the sound of my aunt’s voice brought me back.

Granted, it was Keri and Roniece who were screaming my name into my face, and the bright white light was the streetlight above me. BUT STILL.

Friend has near-death experience on street in a dangerous part town: that’s a pretty big party foul. Keri grabbed my car keys and dropped Roniece off at home. Then we stopped at a gas station in McKeesport where she bought a loaf of bread through a bullet-proof window, the bread was to soak up the poison in my stomach. And then she took me home where three more of our friends came over and babysat me in shifts.

And this is one of the reasons why Keri’s mom absolutely hated me. I was “too much drama” apparently. Like, who? Me!? No, not me.

A few days later, Roniece called to check in on me, and she admitted that maybe, perhaps, possibly there was a slight chance that the blunt she gave me was laced. That in addition to my so chic eating disorder, diet pill addiction and Long Island iced tea dinner was probably enough to stop my fucking heart. But what do I know!? I turned into a walking billboard for Just Say No after that.

Every time we go to Kennywood, I love to point out the little turn-around on the side of a road in West Mifflin where Keri had to swerve the car so I could puke up all my regrets on the way home.

***

“And so that’s what I think of whenever I hear George Michael,” I said in conclusion to this very personal tale at work on the Tuesday after George Michael’s death.

“What, your poor judgment?” Glenn mumbled.

WHATEVER GLENN, I LOVE THIS STORY.

As someone who is very into haunted houses and has been keeping haunted house journals since 1995 (!!!), it was a no-brainer that I needed this tattoo when Erin from Kyklops posted her original painting of it on Instagram.

I just got it today after work and I am so smitten with it! It’s on my upper back and it’s been a long time since I got tattooed on my back so that was a nice eye-opener. (And thumb-biter.)

It took Henry fifteen minutes in three different rooms with 726397 different variations of lighting to try to take a picture, and none of them were right. So then Chooch took over and got it done in two tries because Chooch is the best. (Just ignore the fact that part of the left side is cut off and my hair is in it. I take what I can get around here.)

Anyway, now I’m stoked for next October! 

Thanks for another supremely magnificent tatttoo, Erin! And I only almost passed out once! 

Holy shit, another day, another bleeding-heart emo girl blog post! Woo!

When Balance and Composure announced their fall tour, I was really bummed to see that Pittsburgh wasn’t on the list, but my consolation was that I’d get to see them before that at Riot Fest, so I should just take that and be satisfied and stop whining and pouting and talking about how disappointed I am and just grow the fuck up and get over it right? Sorry, I think I’m mixing this up with SOMETHING ELSE. #presidentialelectionPTSD

So Riot Fest came and went. I got to see B&C and it was great! It was only my second time seeing them live, which is pretty crazy considering they’re pretty popular in the scene I follow. But they were always one of those bands that I liked but not LOVED. I used to get them mixed up with several other bands that I felt the same way about: liked it when it came up on a playlist, but never actively sought them out. Then I saw B&C open for Circa Survive one time, I think it’s been about 2 years now? Almost. But it clicked for me that night. I got it. Seeing them live changed everything for me and I heard their songs an entirely different way—with my heart. This is why I skipped out of Bob Mould’s set early to ensure I got a good spot near the stage for B&C at Riot Fest last September. They were at the top of the list for me that weekend, you guys. Ask Henry: he had to hear me WHINE LIBERALLY about it all fucking weekend.

Still, I thought I would be OK missing their fall headlining tour, but then their new album was released in the beginning of October and MY LIFE CHANGED. If it’s possible to imprint on an object, an idea, a concept….well then that’s what I was experiencing.

So my rational, adult-like CONCESSION when it seemed like going to Cleveland on a work night just wasn’t viable, especially with the super fun unexpected expenses we’ve had to deal with over the last month when the automobile gods pointed their golden socket sets* at us.

*(I dunno. I googled “tools to work on cars” and supposedly this is important to have.)

Oh, and then our fridge has begun a slow, frustrating death. I LOVE BEING AN ADULT!

And still there I was, in the midst of all of these annoying life nuisances, clutching onto Henry’s leg, begging him to take me to Cleveland to see Balance and Composure. Like, for real begging. I’m not proud of it but MUSIC MAKES ME DO DIRTY, SHAMEFUL THINGS. But Henry was all, “STOP WHINING. THE PATRIARCHY HAS SPOKEN.”

Finally last weekend, Henry could stand it no longer and said, “FINE, WE WILL GO TO CLEVELAND. YOUR VOICE HAS BEEN HEARD.” See?! DON’T STOP FIGHTING FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN. Just keep poking and prodding on every social media platform. I pestered him from all angles: text, email, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat (he got an actual video of me saying PLEAAAAAASE and crying), and Twitter. Don’t ever stop campaigning for what you believe in. APPLY PRESSURE. BE PUSHY. FLIP OVER A CAR.

OK, don’t actually flip a car. Leave that to the hateful people.

***************

Thursday finally arrived and it was the one positive thing I had to look forward to that week. That didn’t stop me from ranting until my mouth was foaming like Cujo, but even that felt good. To just talk and talk and talk (and punch the inside of the car door a few times). But once we arrived at Beachland Ballroom, it was time to let the healing begin. And I was so calm and heart-eyed from the moment we got in line outside, and I didn’t hate anyone. Not even Henry.

I was glad that we got there before doors opened because I have The Nerves when it comes to venues I’ve never been to before, so it was helpful to be one of the first people there and have a chance to get my bearings. I liked it right away! Just one nice, big open room with a really cool bar—I got some kind of pumpkin sour beer and it was OK and anytime I drink a new beer, I have to text Lisa to tell her about it because she’s my life manager. Lisa said that sour beers are like the new trend, but I wouldn’t know.

It didn’t taste like pumpkin, but it definitely tasted like sour.

Johnny sounds like a huge prick!

OK OK OK the first bad was Mercury Girls and they were fine! Girl singers makes me say “eh” usually but this one was pretty cool, she had a nice 60s beach vibe to her voice and it was lulling me into a peaceful state. I liked it. Henry said “eh” and then shook his head, but fuck Henry. No one cares what the white privileged male likes. Except for most of the country, apparently.

Fuck you, Henry.

During their set, JON SIMMONS AKA THE SINGER OF B&C, walked past us and I internally began to die. I slowly turned around and mouthed “OH MY GOD” to Henry, who just rolled his eyes in response. I think his belly probably flipped a little bit too though because Henry isn’t so straight that he’s unable to recognize dreamy guys.

I was almost as excited for the next band as I was for Balance & Composure — FOXING. These guys have eluded me for years. I don’t know how I have such a knack for missing them every time they come to town; I think the last time was last April when they were here for Broken World but all the bullshit with my grandparents’ house had me so exhausted that I ended up not going.

Oh my fucking god, I knew it was going to be great, but not THAT great. They fucking killed it and brought the entire room together when the singer spoke his piece in between songs, about how it was his birthday, but it was the worst birthday of his life thanks to how shitty this election had turned out.

“For the next 40 minutes, let’s just pretend like it didn’t happen.” And then you could barely hear the start of the next song over the uproarious agreement. Solidarity. That’s the only good thing that has come from this, realizing that my scene is full of such compassion. Even Henry said he wasn’t mad about it, and this is the guy who was so disgusted in 2004 when we went to see Metric and The Stills at Mr. Small’s, and the singer from The Stills got political on everyone. I mean, if not for that, I might not even have any recollection of The Stills.

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And when they played Rory, I wanted to start hitting myself in the head right along with the singer.

I just asked Henry what time B&C came out and he mumbled, “10:30. I know that because I kept looking at the time.” This show started later than most shows we go to, and Henry was quietly stewing over this, since we still had a 2+hour drive back to Pittsburgh afterward, LOL. Luckily for Henry though, there was an empty table nearby, so he got to lounge and nod off during their set while I resumed my patented “YEAH I’M HERE ALONE, SO WHAT” stance.

But you guys, you guys, you guys, they opened with Midnight Zone and I thought my heart was going to come tumbling out of my kooka. THAT SONG. This isn’t from the Cleveland show, but it is STILL SO HOT, HELP ME JESUS.

HIS DANCING, STOPPPPPP MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT.

There was a girl next to me who was so into it that she was doing some weird kind of country line-dance, and I was like “get it, girl.” It was awesome. She was so happy to be there and we smiled at each other at one point, and I love connecting like that. Mostly because it doesn’t involve words or touching.

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“Tiny Raindrop” is my go-to B&C jam and hearing it always makes me so happy – I love that song so much I wish I could wear it! Like just put my arms right through it and wrap it all around me like a soft beautiful pashmina.

• Midnight Zone
• Spinning
• Void
• Tiny Raindrop
• Postcard
• When I Come Undone
• Mediocre Love
• Quake
• For a Walk
• More to Me
• Is It So Much to Adore?
• Lost Your Name
• Reflection
• Tore You Apart in My Head

I feel like I’m missing something, but the set was so on point, the whole band was flawless, the crowd had so much energy—I felt so grateful to be there. How did I get so lucky on the boo-thang front? Henry is the best boo-thang I could ever ask for!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BMt3T0sjX8Z/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

And he bought me a tour poster because god forbid our walls have any open space left on them.

If there’s anything that’s going to heighten my sensitivity and inability to stop tears from pouring from my eyeballs, it’s a good show. This was such an incredible night. Going to shows gives me life, and I will never ever ever take this for granted, especially not the road-trips that Henry takes me on to see bands he doesn’t like and sometimes even hates. But he at least admitted that he likes Balance & Composure and that even though he did nod off in his chair a few times, he swears he actually paid attention the times he was awake and thought it was “good.”

The only downside is that the show didn’t end until almost midnight and, after stopping at Sheetz to get food and a mega-caffeine boost, we didn’t get home until sometime after 2:30am. I won’t ever sleep as a passenger out of solidarity to Henry, but man, I wanted to succumb to slumber in a bad way. It was actually painful.

But so motherfucking worth it. I still have chills thinking about it. <3333

OMG OK so Dance Gavin Dance was in town on Monday and it was the longest work day of my life. I was so giddy about it too because DGD is just so much fun and they make me feel pure happiness, which is an anomaly for me considering all I do is cry cry cry at shows. But this current version of DGD, fronted by Tilian, just makes me want to dance my fucking face off.

I was so excited about it that at the end of our weekly meeting that night, I blurted out, “I’M GOING TO SEE DANCE GAVIN DANCE TONIGHT YOU GUYS” and everyone was like, “Wow. Cool story. Poor Henry.”

Before leaving work, I went to change my clothes in the bathroom and that’s when I realized that I only brought jeans and not a shirt so I got to wear the fucking BLOUSE I had on at work to the goddamn DGD show like a fucking WORKING MOM.

I mean, I am a working mom but those kids don’t need to know that. Ugh.

“You still look cute though!” Amber¹ said when I whined to her about it in GAYLE’S HALLWAY.

(Seriously, Gayle has her own hallway.)

UGH FINE.

Henry picked me up from work and we went straight to Millvale, where we had some time to have a very fancy dinner at Subway. I was happy that they have wraps there because I was carrying a pie baby (thanks, pie party) and barely wanted to eat anything but I also didn’t want to pass out at the show. The two people working there were such assholes. Like, grow a personality. Fucking fake it if you have to! Don’t make me feel like a reject because I only want black olives, tomatoes, spinach and then more black olives on my red pepper hummus wrap, you dumb cooze.

Oh for God’s sake, I was so miserable during their set and actually felt like trapped.

Like I was in a cage.

LIKE I WAS A GOOD TIGER IN A CAGE SUBJECTED TO BAD MUSIC.

But then Hail the Sun came out and made it all OK. (Well, for me, anyway. Henry hates Hail the Sun.)

I have nothing but good words for these guys. I’ve seen them so many times over the years (mostly with DGD!) and they just keep getting better. I have a greater appreciation for them now though. I love watching Donovan do his crazy dancing on stage, and that’s Henry’s least favorite part because Henry hates watching people exhibit joy and passion.

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BUT SERIOUSLY THIS FUCKING SONG OW MY HEART. I love when he says “t-t-telephone.” It makes me clasp my hands against my chest like I just watched my kid take his first step or something. I don’t know, I’m trying to be RELATABLE.

I just asked Henry, off the cuff, to tell me what he thinks about Hail the Sun and he murmured, “I don’t think about them.”

He made copious comments about Donovan’s dancing that night though.

I just realized that Henry is just jealous.

And the night just got better from there. The Contortionist came out next and I honestly had never heard of them before so I had no idea what to expect. They started out with a very theatrical, slow burn of an intro. OK, they had my attention. They reminded me of elements of Dredg and Tool. Maybe even a little Earshot. 

Later, I found out that they primarily tour with metal bands I’m just not into, like Born of Osiris, Veil of Maya, Hatebreed, Killswitch Engage — so it makes sense that I’ve never come across them before. That’s way out of my wheelhouse. 

The singer’s voice was ethereal and effortlessly beautiful. But the most interesting part about him was the controlled way he slowly moved around the stage, alternating between fluid and jerky movements. It was like we were watching him through a strobe light and it just made me so uneasy yet absolutely enrapt.

And then he started screaming his fucking throat raw, causing a violent circle pit to open up and people were doing weird hand things and this is when I was convinced that the singer is a cult leader.

I was also kind of legit scared. The singer reminded me of Voldemort.

“HASHTAG SO OBSESSED!” I shouted in Henry’s ear, who just frowned in response.

Henry frowned, not his ear.

There was a moment when the singer hit a certain note so angelically that I spontaneously burst into tears.

Henry knew this was going to happen.

I was hooked, you guys. His voice. Their music. The whole aesthetic. I guess I’m now an official worshiper of the house of The Contortionist. Catch ya later, Catholicism.

I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THEM AGAIN!!!

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In between bands, Toto’s Africa came on, inciting a deliriously loud sing-along inside Mr. Smalls, and Henry slept through through the whole thing…..while leaning against a wall. 

He told me later that he wasn’t “sleeping,” he was “trying not to pass out.”

LOLOL.

It’s OK to laugh, guys. He’s fine.

And then….OMG OMG OMG it was time for Dance Gavin Dance! You bet your ass I sweat all the way through my dumb blouse during their set because it’s DGD and who can stand still during their show?! I mean, besides Henry?!

Tilian fractured his leg over the summer and was propped up on crutches, so we didn’t get to see any of his sweet dance moves (much to Henry’s relief* — he is like, so hard to impress when it comes to stage presence), but even standing still, he was a fucking star. (He did treat us to some body rolls though because he’s Tilian and that’s what Tilian does.)

*(Does Henry just hate dancing in general? IS HENRY THE DAD FROM FOOTLOOSE?!?!)

The energy in the room was off the charts and I just lost my mind screaming like it was Beatlesmania in 2016. This band inflates my heart with unadulterated, all natural, no-preservatives-added joy. I wish I could explain it, but their sick beats and weird lyrics breathe life back into me, and in one hour they were able to reverse the negative effects the last several months have had on me. HOW?! I don’t know! Aside from Henry’s kids, I have never been able to get any of my friends into this band, so I can’t quite put my finger on what it is about them that draws me to them, but they had a pull on me since the very first time I heard them nearly 10 years ago, and through three different vocalists and a million various line-up changes, my devotion to them has never faltered.

Because they make me feel like THIS! Giddy and ridiculous!

Ugh, they’re just so fun. And their set list was bonkers too – they covered all eras – but my only complaint was that it was so short. Only an hour! They have seven albums at this point and could play for so much longer if they would stop taking so many bands on tour with them. It should have just been Hail the Sun and The Contortionist.

Maybe bring out a chair for Tilian so he doesn’t have to stand on a broken leg, you know? WE DON’T MIND.

At one point, some girl came shooting out of the middle of the crowd and practically lunged at me, putting me in some strange hug-like thing, and nearly knocking me against the wall.

I was so confused, wondering if I knew her.

“I lost my shoe!” she kept yelling to me. And then some guy came and retrieved her. I noticed that she had both shoes on, right before she was swallowed up by the crowd. I exchanged shrugs with the girl next to me and then we laughed and went back to freaking out over Dance Gavin Dance. I LOVE EVERYONE AT DGD SHOWS.

COCAINE CRINGE FEST!!!!

In between songs, Tilian mentioned that this was the first night they had their new, not-yet-released album available at their merch booth, which was perfect because I never got around to pre-ordering it since Riot Fest made us poor, so I told Henry we needed to get it.

“Then we’ll have to leave before it’s over so we don’t have to wait in line,” Henry shouted back into my ear.

I was like OH HELL NAW, I’m not leaving a goddamn DGD early, who does he think he’s suggesting this to? Some working mom in a blouse?

“Well, why don’t you just go over there now and get it,” I countered, and he did as he was told.

Several minutes passed and I became acutely aware that he never returned. Usually I can feel his dumb belly pushing against my back because he stands so fucking close to me like he’s suddenly Mr. Possessive when we all know he doesn’t give a fuck. Yeah, he went to buy the record for me and never came back. That motherfucker went straight back to the car!

Ballsy move, Hank.

Good thing DGD puts me in a zone and I really didn’t care either way. Henry told me later, “I mean, I like Dance Gavin Dance. But there was only like 20 minutes left anyway, and you know, I’ve seen them before, so.”

Wow.

Cool reasoning, bro.

SET LIST:

• Chucky vs. The Giant Tortoise
• Stroke God Millionaire
• On the Run
• Spooks (!!!!!!!!!!!)
• Tree Village
• FLOSSIE DICKEY BOUNCE!
• Death of a Strawberry
• Strawberry Swisher Pt 3 (I lose my mind during the “keep my fingers crossed, I want to be somewhere that I belong” part every single time)
• Betrayed By the Game
• Lemon Meringue Tie <33333333333333333333
• We Own the Night
• Alex English

This just isn’t enough, but I’ll take what I can get.

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You guys, it’s so wonderful. (And yes, the only record player in our house right now belongs to Chooch the Hipster. And he doesn’t let me forget it, either.)

I have been in the best mood since Monday night.

Henry is upstairs sleeping so I just called him on the phone, from the couch, to get a quote from him.

“I cant believe you called me for this,” Henry sighed around his mouth cobwebs. “Why do you make me do this stuff. I don’t know. I like Dance Gavin Dance.”

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, DANCE GAVIN DANCE. <3

I think, if I had to choose, that Saturday was my favorite day of Riot Fest. Henry was being a cunt on Friday (he claims he was “tired” and “didn’t feel well;” see also: IS OLD AS FUCK) but after a really great leisurely morning of exploring Little Village and having some legit Mexican breakfast, we were both like, IN SYNC. Like MENSTRUAL CYCLES. But without the mood swings.

And blood.

Wait – did I bleed at all that day?

No.

:(

Originally, I said we didn’t have to get there early because the first band I had my heart set on seeing didn’t even start until 2 or some other late as fuck time of the day. However, we still ended up getting there by 11:30, without even rushing, and there was barely a line by that point so we just strode right on in.

Well, Henry did.

I had to be frisked and have my purse pillaged and I forgot that I had a plastic container of Mentos gum in there and the security broad threw it out, nooooo.

We had some time to check out the vendors, one of which was our favorite–Choonimals! We bought Chooch an obligatory pizza shirt because god forbid we come home empty-handed. I wanted to get him a Trump shirt that said Fuck Boi on it but Henry frowned heavily even though he approved of the shirt in general.

BANDS OF THE DAY

• Brick + Mortar: The first band we saw was Brick + Mortar on the Roots Stage. I didn’t know anything about them other than what I read on the Riot Fest website a few weeks ago. It was just two guys playing honest indie rock, and I’m going to be real here: I’m not sure if I genuinely liked the music, or if I was just captivated by the hilarious guy they had on stage with them, dancing around like an idiot, coming back out dressed like a fairy-thing, and just being overall entertaining. Henry liked them too, so you know that the music wasn’t very offensive. It was a great start to the day though! Especially when the singer thanked everyone for taking a chance on them and that they had recently won a battle against their record label for the rights to their music, and that’s always something to clap about.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BK8LqP_DsFH/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

• Plague Vendor: Right after Brick + Mortar ended, Plague Vendor started their set on the neighboring Riot Stage. I told Henry that I didn’t think he was going to like them, but Henry surprised me by saying, “They’re not bad. He’s like…Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop had a baby.” WHOA. He likes a band, kind of, enough to make comparisons?! This day was really off to a great start. (Plague Vendor is fucking amazing, by the way—frenetic, rowdy California punk rock fronted by a singer with moves slick enough to make MJ grab his crotch in appreciation.

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• Microwave, acoustic set: Thank god for these StubHub acoustic sets, because I was unable to see Microwave perform later that day as a full band, due to scheduling conflicts. (They had the unfortunate scheduling luck of going up against Motion City Soundtrack, who were playing their penultimate show, but now I’m seriously regretting my choice.) I always miss this band when they come to town! Henry immediately peaced out, getting lost in the depths of his phone (what does he actually read on his phone!? I can’t even imagine. He only has like 79 Facebook friends so scrolling through this feed can’t take very much time and what else do old people use Smartphones for?!), and ignored the whole acoustic set, which admittedly wasn’t the best acoustic set I’ve ever seen (Nathan, the singer, seemed kind of nervous) but it was still good to hear some Microwave, even in that soft, scaled back capacity. He even covered that fucking “I’ve got a brand new pair of rollerskates” song which I thought for sure would appeal to Henry, since he’s old and probably danced with some big-haired hussy to that song at a school dance at some point in his life.

Henry ignoring Microwave.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BKd6yiHAhkA/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

• Jessica Hernandez: NOPE. She was playing on the main stage and we had time to kill so we were sitting down in the grass and I was just like, “I CAN’T TAKE THIS BROAD’S VOICE, UGH BUT I’M TOO COMFORTABLE TO MOVE.” Also, I tried to snag a sip of Henry’s beer around this point but he yelled at me because there was “SECURITY” right next to us and I wasn’t wearing a 21+ wristband. Oh for fuck’s sake, Henry. Like anyone would ever do a double-take if they saw me drinking alcohol! Unless they thought Henry was my dad and I’m a super-old-looking teenager? A teenager who’s seen some shit? Anyway, this broad considers her band to be “dark soul and goth pop” but I didn’t get that vibe at all. All I got was some Gwen Stefani-mimicking annoying bray backed by trombones. Not a fan.

• HippoCampus: We walked over to the Roots Stage to wait for Hippocampus to start, but Jessica Hernandez said, “We got two more songs for you!” and I was like, “WHAT? HOW?!!?” because it was like one minute away from Hippocampus starting on the neighboring stage. The Riot and Roots staging alternate, so as soon as one band is done, the next band immediately starts on the other stage, and Riot Fest is pretty good about keeping the schedule accurate. However, Jessica wouldn’t shut her trap, and then the powers-that-be did my favorite thing ever: THEY SHUT HER DOWN. She just kept singing, no sound coming out, until she finally realized what was happening and frantically waved her mic around like they were going to turn the sound back on for her, like it was an accident, like she was better than the next band and allowed to abuse her time on stage. Fuck OFF, Jessica Hernandez. Meanwhile, Hippocampus ended up being kind of boring, but I’m still glad they didn’t have their set cut short by that dumb bitch.
• High Waisted: Since Hippocampus wasn’t capturing my heart, I looked at my app to see who else was playing. I quickly skimmed the bio for High Waisted, which mentioned 1960s SURF and DREAM POP, and I was on board. “I thought you don’t like female singers?” Henry asked when we rolled up to the tiny Storyheart Stage. He will never understand my criteria. This band seemed like it was in my wheelhouse and I was willing to give them a chance, and thank god for that because they ended up being a huge highlight of the whole weekend, especially when they had a legit Dick Dale breakdown at the end of the set. Plus, the singer, Jessica Louise, was hot AF! Unlike that other Jessica (Hernandez *hisssss*), this one had an Erin-pleasing voice. They’re on tour right now with Somos and Free Throw and of course it’s not coming to shitty Pittsburgh.

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• Motion City Soundtrack: They were next on the Roots Stage and Henry begrudgingly followed me there. Neither of us are actually fans of this band and in fact, I can’t tell you how many times I walked right past whatever stage they were playing at numerous Warped Tours. I think probably because I associate them with Christina’s crazy sister. But this is the last tour they’re doing, probably for like 5 years at which point they will realize how much money there is to be made on reunion tours, and then they’ll be all, “Wow, we forgot how much we loved making music as this band so now we have a new album coming out! And another tour after that!” I mean, I can’t judge. At least five bands I really fucking love have done this to me over the last 10 years. But still, I wanted to be there and actually watch them for what might be my only chance ever. I only really know two songs and they played both of them so I was content. Henry made his “I don’t get it” face the whole time, and truthfully, we spent most of the set willing someone to “accidentally” step on this bitch who wouldn’t stand up:

https://www.instagram.com/p/BKmB424AsBD/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Chooch’s new shirt for picture day.

Admittedly, my favorite part of the set was when some girl pushed her way through us and Henry casually said, “Oh hello, come on in.” I don’t know why it made me crack up as much as it did, other than the fact that I was fucking high on life. And then we saw a guy with flipflops literally tattooed to his feet. OH OK.

• Bob Mould: I hope if you’re reading this that you know who Bob Mould is, but if you don’t: GET YOUR STUDY ON. He’s a living alt-rock legend, and his 80s bands Husker Du and Sugar are both essential for any music fanatic. I have never seen him before so I was pretty giddy about this, especially since he was supposed to be at the first Riot Fest I ever went to but then WASN’T and then when he was in Pittsburgh, I WAS AT RIOT FEST. Guys, these are the big problems in my life, OK? Anyway, a fun fact about Bob Mould is that when Henry and I first started dating, or whatever you want to call, he was way more accepting of my musical tastes and Bob Mould’s “New #1” was like, our song or something. I guess. We haven’t listened to it together in like 10 years because we don’t love each other anymore.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BKmBqngAdAr/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

• Balance & Composure: But, as much as I love me some Bob Mould, I REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME some Balance & Composure, so we split the Riot Stage about 30 minutes into Bob’s set and ran over to the small Rebel Stage, where B&C was setting up and I pulled Henry all the way to the front, which he just LOVES. Right away though, I heard A Voice that immediately made me feel angry and tense and then I realized it was the obnoxious Minnesota know-it-all from the line to get in on Day One! Henry started cracking up and I just slowly turned back around and proceeded to block her out. Luckily, I had SAM and her SNOWCONE to fixate on. She was standing next to me and I know her name is SAM because she saw one of her friends, who came over with another friend, and introductions were made but then they left and SAM continued to stand alone with her BLUE snowcone. She was interesting. And of course we saw her like 87 times the rest of the weekend too. Always alone! I felt so sad for her. But then B&C started playing and everyone around me just melted away. For being up against so many heavy-hitters and being relegated to the smallest stage, they really had a shit ton of people there for them! I don’t know what to say about this band other than they are just excelsior alt-rock, kind of emo-revivalist, really great song-writing, the kind of music you want to listen to in the car while driving around in October wearing your favorite sweater and MAYBE DRINKING A MAPLE LATTE TOO. They are for sure an autumn band for me, like just writing about this right now makes me want to go on a haunted hayride, good thing it’s October 1. (OMG it’s October 1 and I’m not done writing about Riot Fest, whyyyyy.) They have a new album coming out so they started their set off with two songs from that and then Jon (he’s the SINGER, you guys) admitted that they were nervous as fuck to perform those songs for the first time, and it did kind of seem like they were stiff and uncomfortable but once they dove into the old jams, they were shining like diamonds. For the record, I love the new songs they’ve released so far. This is one of them, it’s called POSTCARD and you should listen:

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Go back to Minnesota.

After Balance and Composure, we had some time to wander around and forage for food before Brand New started at 6:15. It was around this time that I thought I saw Justin Bobby and Henry was all WHO and I said “Justin Bobby” and Henry was all “…………….” and then I yelled, “FROM THE HILLS!?!?” Fuck Henry, turn on MTV sometime in 2006, OK?

I ended up getting one of the most texturally interesting veggie burgers ever:

I think it was made with potatoes. I liked it. It could have been warmer but it’s better than the soft pretzel I’d be eating at Warped Tour, so who am I to complain. Those food vendors are amazing every year though I feel like this year wasn’t as on point as the past two years. (I’M STILL NOT OVER THE FACT THAT DARK MATTER WASN’T THERE WITH THEIR HOT, HEAVENLY NECTAR A/K/A COFFEE. I missed those tiny donuts that were there last year too. Come back, tiny donuts.)

We saw, for the second time that day, a girl wearing the same Emarosa “For Fox Sake” shirt that Chooch has. She was sitting down with her friend and I did that thing that Henry loves where I boisterously comment on someone’s attire (I can’t tell you how many times I get all Tourettes-like when we’re in another city and I see someone wearing a Penguins shirt). I ran up to the girl and screamed, “I LOVE EMAROSA!” She was clearly caught off guard. I could tell by the way her hand flew to her chest and she let out a startled, “Oh!” But then she said, “Yeah, they’re fantastic!” and that response satisfied me so I continued on my way.

“Why do you have to do that?” Henry groaned.

Anyway, it was around this point where I started to notice a lot of vendors had put up Morrissey-related signs regarding their food and I didn’t realize until later it was because one of his stipulations for playing Riot Fest was that all food vendors had to stop selling meat after 8pm. Obviously I’m a huge fan of THE CURE but I am just a basic, average fan of the Smiths and not really a fan at all of Morrissey as a solo artist (not for any reason other than I just never really paid attention to it because I’ve been too busy worshiping at the feet of Robert Smith almost my whole life), so I didn’t know that this is something Moz supposedly requires of all venues he’s playing at. I guess it really sent Riot Fest attendees over the edge though because the comments I was reading online were so fucking hostile. Like, if you ever hear me complain about not being able to eat a certain food for a two hour block, please fucking kill me. Personally, as a vegetarian, this really made me respect Morrissey a lot more. How fucking punk rock is that?! Plus it incited so much controversy, which come on, who doesn’t love some fucking music drama!?

No one thought Riot Fest would comply to Moz’s demands, but they did and that made my veggie burger taste even more delicious and satisfying, not gonna lie. It’s not everyday us herbivores get a victory.

Riot Fest really starts to get crowded around 5. That’s around the time my stranger-danger anxiety usually starts to set in, but the way they had the stages set up this year made it feel like less of a cluster.  I mean, I still clung to Henry’s shirt tail like my life depended on it, but it wasn’t as gnarly as past years.

• Brand New: Henry was being so nice to me around this time! So now instead of associating Brand New with terrible Christina things, I think I will associate them with Henry kind of showing me something that resembled affection! It was nice. But then he said he only knew one song that Brand New played that night and I was like, “YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT THERE IS NO WAY YOU DIDN’T KNOW AT LEAST 75% OF THAT SET LIST, YOU MOTHERFUCKING MORON” and then the mood was killed. But seriously though it was a delightful set. We stood far back enough that we didn’t have to deal with any of their asshole fans (honestly, Brand New has some of the douchiest fans I’ve ever encountered and I can’t even imagine them in real life scenarios outside of a Brand New show). I feel really lucky to have gotten to see them twice in two months, although I’m kind of annoyed that I didn’t jump at the chance to buy tickets to their upcoming Cleveland show because they just announced that they’re playing The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me in its entirety, fuck my life. I also think it’s kind of interesting that Jesse Lacey basically made a career of trolling his fans yet people still fall over themselves to see his band play. There’s a sick kind of respect there, I guess. (I do think this band deserves every accolade it receives though and anyone who says they’re overrated can go fuck themselves because I’m pretty sure Jesse Lacey is a fucking mad genius and when he sings Degausser I lose it every time.) Here is someone else’s video of it because I only have a few Snaps:

Honestly, what else is there to say about Brand New?

Somewhere around this time, we had our third conversation about rats (????). This time we were talking about how we saw rat traps in the yards of the houses we walked past that morning and Henry was mouthing off about how bad rats are, etc., and I said, “Yeah but, some of the rats of NIMH were good though…”

“Those were cartoons, Erin,” Henry sighed.

JUDGING.

• Death Cab For Cutie: This band needs no introduction. There was a chunk of my early 20s when they were my shit, I loved this band so much, before that TV show The O.C. made them a household band (I mean, good for them! But I’m just saying…) However, I stopped listening to them almost entirely after Transatlanticism. Not because I thought they got sucky or anything like that, but because I associated them with this. Basically, I was listening to DCFC when I found out that someone I had a very dysfunctional relationship with had been killed in a car accident/alleged suicide. Pretty hard not to think about that anytime I hear Death Cab nowadays. I actually saw them a week after that happened too, at Coachella in 2004. The first and last time I’d ever see them live, until now at Riot Fest. And I have to say, it felt like beautiful torture. It felt like having my heart ripped out of my chest, only to have it pumped full of life and love and reinserted. It felt healing and necessary. But…if they had played anything from Something About Airplanes, I probably would have had to leave. No lie.

(OH GOD why did I just let myself listen to this?!)

Riot Fest, you are a fucking violent stumble, heart-in-throat, down memory lane, Jesus Christ. I wasn’t ready.

• Morrissey: I had a chance to begin processing the past that had been dredged up slammed into my face after Death Cab’s set since Morrissey kept us waiting for like 30 minutes. I get it, you’re a big star, but FYI: The Cure has never left me standing out in the dark, looking at my imaginary watch. SORRY TO KEEP MAKING COMPARISONS. There was some 30 minute long video montage that we had to suffer through and I guess he does this at all of his shows? OK that’s fine, but maybe don’t do that when you’re playing a festival and people have been there since noon and just want to see you play now so that we can all leave and pass out in our shitty Motel 6 hopefully-clean beds. People were leaving left and right, and Henry really wanted to leave too, but I got all white knight-y and said reasoned, “Come on, it’s Morrissey. We have to see him at least once.” Because unless someone gives me a free ticket, I can’t imagine that I would ever go to a show specifically to see him (unless the Smiths suddenly reunite, then it’s game on). There was a moment where we actually thought that maybe he seriously wasn’t going to be there after all, because when the Riot Fest lineup was announced last spring, he was like, “I never agreed to perform at Riot Fest so this is news to me” in typical Moz-fashion. I mean, you have to admire his consistency with being notoriously difficult and coy, I guess. He did, obviously, come out and immediately began singing “Suedehead” in his typical bombastic fashion and I found myself saying, “IT’S OK MORRISSEY, WE’RE NOT MAD!” because that damn voice. And: “By the way, thanks for opening with a song I know!”

When he sang “Ganglord,” there were images of police violence splayed out on the screen behind him and while it was difficult to watch, it felt so fucking important and I had to give him credit because that was a message that needed to be forced on everyone watching. Like, “Hey guys, you’re here right now enjoying your life at Riot Fest when this is the shit that’s happening in your idiotic country right now. Don’t forget that.” Henry hates it when musicians use the stage as a soapbox but I’m all for it. I feel like more people are going to listen to what their music idols have to say than what a politician is jawing off about, so go for it, Morrissey. Tell us to Dump Trump! WE’RE TRYING!

We stayed for five songs then made our way back down the streets lined with rat traps and rejoiced when we saw our car was still in one piece in the shady parking lot where we left it that morning.

This was by far the best and most emotionally satisfying day of Riot Fest and I wish I could hold it in my hand and squeeze it lovingly like a dove BUT NOT TOO HARD SO I DON’T KILL IT.

Since the shitty “hotel” we’ve stayed at for all three Riot Fests switched brands, they no longer offered breakfast. Not like we were missing much because it was below basic breakfast fare, we were still disappointed because it was convenient and free. Going to Riot Fest is not cheap, you guys, and I’d rather spend my money on merch than food, ugh. All of this is to say we went down the street to some joint called Victoria’s, where I had crepes that were OK and Henry had meats.

Then Meghan Trainor came on (the worst M.T. song of all time, All About That Bass) and I believe this was the first time where I had found myself in a position where there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t change the station! I couldn’t leave because I was still eating. I HAD TO SIT THERE AND ENDURE IT.

Oh, the horror! The pain! But I reminded my ears that soon they would be in Douglas Park, surrounded on all sides by the most beautiful blend of pop punk, punk rock, emo revival, hip hop — it was all going to be there. Some of my most favorite genres, and most favorite bands.

It was going to be OK, ears. It was going to be OK.

After breakfast, we went back to the “hotel” and ordered the first Uber of the weekend, an older man named Woody, who, in spite of having his GPS up on his dash, asked Henry unlimited questions regarding the route. Henry was happy to answer because he is a PROFESSIONAL DRIVER and I can guarantee that Woody’s lack of directional savvy gave Henry his own woody.

Luckily, through numerous detours and train crossings, we made it to Douglas Park with a good 45 minutes to spare before the gates opened. This year, it was set up a bit differently with only one entrance, but I was happy to see that it wasn’t yet a cluster fuck.

Only bad part about standing in line was this uber-annoying Minnesota broad who talked extra-loudly to her friend about how EVERYONE KNOWS HER and HOW MANY TATTOOS SHE HAS and HOW SHE IS SO FUCKING COOL HOW ARE WE NOT MELTING BENEATH HER RADIATING BRILLIANCE. Henry knew right away that she was annoying me so we communicated through eye-expressions alone, and then when she mentioned in her grating Midwest lilt that she COULDN’T WAIT TO SEE BALANCE AND COMPOSURE the next day, Henry started to crack up because I had literally said that same thing about 37403720580 times that morning.

Ughhhhhhh.

Gates opened late as usual and we ran, I mean I ran and Henry slowly lumbered behind me, to the Riot Fest merch tent to snag a set of the limited edition Riot Fest Garbage Pail Kids and then Papa Drunk skipped off to get his 21+ wristband and guess who couldn’t get her own because she left her whole entire wallet in Pittsburgh? My preparedness is a non-factor in my game of life. Do not ever choose me for your zombie apocalypse team.

Ugh. First beer at like 11:30. Get it, Hank.

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We had some time to kill before noon so we stomped around the food vendors looking for Dark Matter because I desperately needed coffee. Couldn’t find it right away, so I settled for a water and while Henry was paying for it, some guy at the next food booth asked, “Hey! Why’s my name on your shirt?” I looked around and when I realized he was talking to me, I had to glance down to refresh my memory with what shirt I was even wearing that day, and it was my beautiful Howard Jones shirt!

So I walked closer and engaged in a rare conversation, because I hate talking to people but Riot Fest is an exception because it makes me remember who I used to be, how alive I once was, and it reminds me that hey, I’m surrounded by a ton of my people right now, so it’s not really stranger danger, right? Anyway, the guy’s name ended up being Howard Johnson (like the hotel, I guess), not Jones, but he had never heard of Howard Jones before so I encourage him to check that shit out.

Henry was like, “OK REMEMBER WHOSE PROPERTY YOU ARE LET’S GO.” He is like, so possessive of me. It’s almost sickening.

(Lol, sike. He was like TAKE HER, SHE’S YOURS.)

(This just brought up a horrible memory of when I was briefly dating this guy Erik in 1998 and we were hanging out at my apartment with some guy named Kevin who I recently met at a Sunoco — hey, I made friends everywhere I went back then when I still had self-esteem — and Kevin, who was totally blitzed off a 40 of Miller’s High Life, asked Erik if he could steal me and Erik said, ugh do you know what he said? He said BE MY GUEST. I have that heart-breaking moment on 8mm, even.)

(Well, fuck you Erik Grove, because now I’m with Henry and here we are at Riot Fest and some cute guy name Howard is talking to me so suck it.)

First band up was Tigers Jaw at noon on the Riot Fest (main) stage.

These guys are on Run For Cover Records, one of my fave labels, but this was the first time I ever saw them live. If you know me, you know that I’m horribly fickle with female singers, but I love the boy-girl sharing of vocal duties going on in this band. It’s fun, feel-good indie rock, you guys and there is no reason why Henry should have said, “Nope, they did nothing for me” other than the fact that he wasn’t paying attention because OMG WHAT ARE HIS 57 FACEBOOK FRIENDS DOING, GOTTA CHECK!

During their set, an older gentleman strolled by and said, “GREAT ALBUM!” while pointing to my Howard Jones “Human Lib” shirt. I agree, guy!

Ahhh, Citizen was next on the Rise stage. I can’t say enough wonderful superlatives about this band. They get me right in the feels, as all the kids and ironic bloggers say these days.

It started to rain during their set and I hated almost everyone around me, but I didn’t let that sully my third live dose of Citizen for 2016. Also, Mat basically dresses like Henry, proving he just doesn’t give a fuck.

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Here’s Henry, secretly enjoying Citizen and his style-twin, Mat.

Right after this was Touche Amore on the Rock Stage and I was ready to burst — they’re part of this trifecta for me which also includes La Dispute and The Saddest Landscape, but I’ve never seen Touche Amore before; it was a long time coming.

Some of the finest post-hardcore I’ve ever heard comes courtesy of this beautiful man. I play their records so loud in the house and Henry and Chooch are always like, full-body eye rolls and grimaces, but GUESS WHAT? Guess who finally jumped aboard the Touche Amore-wagon? Mr. Henry J. Robbins.

“They weren’t that bad,” he mumbled, and then, “I didn’t hate it,” which in regular people’s terms translates to, “Say, I think I actually enjoyed that.”

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After Touche Amore, I had penciled in a small window for getting food. I can’t remember what Henry got, but I enjoyed a wonderful BBQ jackfruit with slaw on top of a slice of Texas toast. It was delicious, except that the slaw was more just a wad of pickled vegetables, which found me for the second time in less than a week explaining to no one in particular that the only pickled things I like are pickles.

Oh, I think Henry had vegetable paella and I accused him of being a vegetarian but he defensively said he wasn’t turning his back on meat, he just simply “didn’t feel like eating meat right then.”

HMM THAT SEEMS WEIRD.

Anyway, thanks to Henry having to also get food, I missed Dillinger Escape Plan so thanks Henry, like you couldn’t have waited until later to eat.

After missing DEP, we wandered over to the outskirts of Douglas Park, where the two smallest stages live. Jule Vera was going to be playing soon on the Storyheart Stage, so we figured we’d just hang out in the grass and take selfies, right Henry? Because that’s totally a thing that Henry does. My hair looked shittier than usual that weekend because remember our shitty “hotel”? Well, they don’t supply their rooms with hair dryers and Henry even tried for a hail mary by inquiring at the front desk if they had any available and the answer was NO THEY DID NOT, YOUR RATTY-HAIRED GIRLFRIEND IS FUCKED, BOIIIII.

So frizzy, air-dried hair it is, then!

We had to suffer through the tail-end of the Far East’s set and I absolutely hated them, like if a person could vomit out of their ears, this would have triggered my aural gag reflex, for sure. Let me just describe it as Reggae No Doubt. I was like GOOD RIDDANCE when they finally ended.

Then it was Tancred, which I kept confusing for Tantric — like, totalllly different band. Fun Fact for anyone who cares: the singer is also the guitarist from Now, Now and the singer from Now, Now is dating Lynn Gunn’s (PVRIS) ex-girlfriend Alexa San Roman, OMG there more you know. Anyway, Tancred is a good example of why I’m picky with girl-fronted bands — they usually tend to have that 90s sound to them and I know this is putting my head on the chopping block, but I really didn’t like a lot of rock or alternative from the 90s, until later on in the decade. SORRY BUT I’M JUST BEING HONEST. In my defense, I was heavily into hiphop, gangsta rap, and R&B back then though.

Also, around this time, Henry started complaining about a “foot cramp” but I was like, “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like the name of any band that I like so I’m officially exiting this conversation, bye now.”

OK, then it was finally time for Jule Vera and I missed Chooch so desperately. (He’s annoying me so much today though, a week later, so I already forget what that felt like.) Chooch has loved Jule Vera since we saw them last winter at the Never Shout Never and blushed the whole time he was posing for a picture with Ansley, their singer:

Not even gonna front here, I got totally misty-eyed during their set because it made me miss Chooch so much. We were sending him pictures of Ansley on Facebook during soundtrack and he was getting so mad at us but then he said “SEND ME VIDEOS.” Originally he wanted us to record their whole set, but contrary to popular belief, I actually don’t like being That Person holding their phone up at concerts. I tend to grab a few Instavids (like 30 seconds in length at a time) just for my own posterity and to have something to post on the blog as a memory of the night.

SO FUCKING SUE ME.

But for Chooch, I broke that rule and recorded 30-60 seconds of every song the performed, but I didn’t feel too asshole-y doing so because I was right against the barrier so I didn’t have to hold my phone up high, which means no one behind me was bothered, and if they were, it was probably because of Henry.

Henry’s mere existence is very bothersome to some.

Is it wrong to say that I think a band is adorable? I also think they’re really talented, but there is something really charming about watching such a young band play their hearts out on stage. I didn’t think I was going to care much for them when I saw them last winter, but I fell for them alongside Chooch. He’s got good taste.

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Some old dude, like even older than Henry, yelled, “Hey what high school do you go to?!?” to Ansley and OK, I get where he’s coming from, but damn dude, that sounded totally creepy, go away. Save that for when you’re role-playing with your old ass wife.

Their finale had to have made new fans out of the unbiased people lounging under nearby trees. Even one of the security guys came over to get a better look and then to me and Henry said, “This shit is crazy!”

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Set Your Goals was up next on the Rise Stage and I was so excited to see them again! They recently reunited and I didn’t even realize how much I missed them. This is the band that Henry always pauses and then asks, “Is this the big guy and little guy?” Ugh, yes Henry. Sure. SYG has the dual-vocals thing going on, and I credit them into getting me into pop-punk, after swearing it off for years. They were my gateway, if you will. I always liked emo and post-hardcore but really never cared much for pop-punk, until I heard one of their songs that Vinnie Cuarana was on, and then Hayley Williams rapping (literally!!) on one of their songs in 2009 really helped the medicine go down.

I made Alisha go see them with me that summer at Mr. Small’s and it was just such an awesome show and I kind of wanted to get punched in the face but it didn’t happen.

Henry was not into it.

This guy stood right by us while sucking on his CHRONIC CANDY lollipop and I wanted him so badly to turn to Henry and offer him a lick, which prompted Henry to later go on a tangent about how Chronic Candy “isn’t actually a drug, Erin!” and like yeah OK but it’s still part of DRUG CULTURE and we all know Henry has the D.A.R.E. insignia tattooed on his left ass cheek.

Oh you didn’t know? WELL NOW YOU DO.

He also has “just say no” on his inner lip.

Anyway, go listen to Set Your Goals.

We tried to catch some of the Citizen acoustic set in the StubHub Tent, which was packed, so we were standing near the entrance when some dumbass rolled up with her friends and proceeded to shriek, totally unrelated to the music, like she had been proposed to and this really set me off so I flipped out and stormed away (I was also suffering through some major coffee-withdrawals, thanks for not having my back this year, Dark Matter!), and had a mini-meltdown, but then Henry calmed me down after some guy stared at me with a scared smile because I think he thought I was yelling at him. Not you, bro. Not you.

Once Henry verbally massaged my frontal lobe, we were able to catch a little bit of Somos on the Storyheart stage. The best way I can explain this band is that they would be perfectly at home on a soundtrack for any 1980s John Hughes movie. This is a good thing! But Henry doesn’t get it, which is why I had to see them alone at Bled Fest last May.

This was the harried, frenzied block of time on Friday where there were three bands playing all around the same time and I wanted to see them all, so after two Somos songs, we had to do a brisk walk to the Rise stage where Glassjaw was playing and can you believe I have never seen Glassjaw in my whole entire life?? Henry thinks this is incorrect, but that’s because we saw Daryl Palumbo’s other band, Head Automatica at the Cure’s Curiosa festival in 2004. So I got to have major chills hearing Daryl’s screams cutting through the early evening Chicago air. No one sounds quite like Daryl Palumbo!

(LOL, a commercial for Motel 6 just played while I’m writing this and our Motel 6 did NOT look like the one on TV at all. Nice try, Tom Bodett.)

FUN FACT: I sold a custom serial killer card to G.G. Allin’s brother last year and it was pretty much the highlight of my card-making career thus far.

Oh man, young emo Erin was READY to see Jimmy Eat World again. I kept trying to remember when the last time was that I saw them, and Henry swore that it wasn’t him because Jimmy Eat World is evidently a band that he would remember seeing. I stressed about this for the whole weekend because I was sure that I saw them at one of the Edgefests in Buffalo but I couldn’t find them listed on any lineups, so then I searched for their all their 2001 tour dates and said, “Well, I just don’t know then because this says they only did Warped Tour in 2001….oh wait I was at that Warped Tour, never mind LOL forever.”

Mystery solved! I saw them at Warped Tour with my pal Wonka.

When I first got into emo, it was through Instant Messenger (good ol’ AIM) and I was chatting with some random, and I remember asking him what his screen name meant. I don’t remember the name anymore, but it had something to do with the band Christie Front Drive, and that’s how I fell down the emo rabbit hole and, 20 years later, still haven’t clawed my way back out. Once he suggested that I listen to the Emo Diaries compilations, I knew it was for me.

(Full disclosure, I was still heavy into nu-metal back then too, hahahah, but emo clearly won the war over my heart.)

The crowd wasn’t too bad. My strategy was to stand behind a lady in a wheelchair because no one wanted to stand right in front of her, which meant the view was pretty clear for me. I’m really picky about how far up I’ll travel into the crowds — I base it on how much I love the band and how big/small the stage is. I do not like being close to the main stage because people scare me and I hate feeling trapped.

Anyway, they played my favorite song, Lucky Denver Mint (mixtape staple!)  Enjoy my finger cameo! I’m good at this!

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It was time for Second Riot Fest Feeding after Jimmy Eat World and I went with a vegan sloppy joe. I think Henry got salt and vinegar fries. Who cares. I kept stealing swigs of his beer and he was getting so angry because “if you had really wanted to drink, you wouldn’t have your left your fucking license at home!!” He kept saying, “I hope you get busted!” because I didn’t have a wristband on, but come on, I think it’s pretty clear that I’m over 21. Maybe it’s debatable in a dark club, but when the sun is shining down on me, the grays are all a’shimmer and the bags under my eyes are looking ready and willing to hold your car keys and Altoids.

So gimme your fucking beer, Henry.

That sloppy joe was wonderful. Riot Fest has the best food! This is what I wish Warped Tour would do — but I guess because it’s at an actual venue and not a park, outside food vendors aren’t allowed in so we have to stick with the standard $10 soft pretzels and nachos or whatever that First Niagara whips up. This is why I just stuff my bag with granola bars!

On the way back to the Storyheart Stage in preparation for BASEMENT!!!, we watched a few minutes of All Time Low at the Rise Stage. I never really got into them that much, so after a song or two, we began to walk away, but then they started the next song and I screamed, “I KNEW IT!!” and ran back to the stage because Vic from Pierce the Veil came out to sing “A Love Like War” with them. Henry was like, “Wha—-what’s happening!?” and had to follow me back. He’s so dumb sometimes. But then he saw Vic and understood.

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For real though, after that song ended, we had to run to the Storyheart Stage because I wanted to be up front for Basement and now, as I type this, I feel like I’m going to start crying because this was the first time that weekend, other than crying about missing Chooch or just being my typical whiny self, that I dropped real tears.

This is the same band that threw a wrench in Henry’s “driving to Disneyworld” plans last April — he wanted to leave on a Saturday morning but then I quietly, while slowly back away, reminded him that I had a ticket to see Basement that night, so we had to wait until 11:30pm that night to embark on our Orlando road trip, lolololololol all the way to the market.

I am obsessed with Al specifically, the guitarist, because he was the man behind the camera in all of the Tuesdays with Tay videos that Henry and I love (well, that I love), and I’m just a huge groupie for Run For Cover Records. Huge. I make Chooch wear their shirt to school in an effort to get those basic Brookline brats interested in good music.

(Hasn’t happened yet, although Chooch played some Emarosa for his friend Dimajio and said that he liked it, so fingers crossed. Chooch is a lot like me in many ways but he hasn’t yet honed the SHOVE YOUR INTERESTS DOWN YOUR FRIENDS’ THROATS skill yet I guess. I’ll work on that with him some more, don’t worry.)

When we were waiting for Jule Vera to play earlier, Henry elbowed me and pointed to the fenced-off area behind the stage, at a white van that had just rolled up. “Isn’t that Basement?” he asked casually. AND IT WAS. Henry is so great at recognizing bands that he hates!

Some of my friends were disappointed in me because I chose Basement over some other band, but bitch please, I’m not going to skip a band that I genuinely love in favor of a band that I don’t like but feel like I’m supposed to watch just to say that I saw them. That’s not me! I like what I like. And Basement pumped me full of life. I love how James has Robert Smith-esque dance moves and I love their energy and their fans aren’t assholes and they’re just adorable Brits who make emotional, heart-felt, energetic rock.

I’m used to disappointing people with my music preferences though. It’s my thang. Bang bang.

Plus, they have a song called Bad Apple and I have a rotten apple tattoo, so I’m kind of obligated to be a fan. <3

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I’m going to listen to them all weekend now because they’re such an autumn band for me. And I finally got Henry to admit that he likes them so it was a big moment in our relationship. This band is just so good, and they are HILARIOUS on social media (their Snapchat stories are entertaining) and I have to say, when a band plays super emotional music but then act like complete clowns on the Internet, I love them even more.

Just do yourself a favor and listen to their latest album. It’s the first release since they came out of hiatus. I mean, I’m no Lou Pappan, but I think “you gonna like it.” (SHOUT OUT TO MY PITTSBURGH READERS LOL.)

It was after 2pm by the time we were done being dummies at Vent Haven, which means we were precariously close to The Witching Bitching Hour, otherwise known as the hunger twilight, where Chooch and I morph from adorably angelic sweethearts into Regan and Damian in Warped Tour shirts.

Henry had approximately 37 minutes to find us a place to eat before the transformation was complete.

Back when Christina and I were friends, I used to visit her pretty frequently in Hamilton, OH, which is a few miles outside of Cincinnati. Since it was kind of on our way home, I suggested that we eat at Hyde’s, a family restaurant she took me to several times. I remembered liking the aesthetic and the pie, and was prepared to throw a fit if Henry said no, but then something miraculous happened:

Henry’s old SERVICE roommate Tim contacted him because he saw on Facebook that we were in the area! This put Henry in a great mood and he said YES to Hyde’s because now we needed to kill time in order for Tim to come out to meet us from wherever he lived in Indiana which is apparently close to Hamilton, who knew? (People who look at maps, I guess.)

Tim called Henry shortly after we arrived at Hyde’s. Henry jumped out of the booth and went outside to answer it; I’ve never seen Henry run out of a restaurant that fast in my life, not even the time he dined and dashed at HOOTERS in 1992.

(Probably true?)

So then Mr. WE GOTTA GET HOME, NO MORE STOPPING! decided that after lunch, we would be meeting TIM at Jungle Jim’s!

Holy shit, I was so so excited, I could barely eat. Just kidding, I almost accidentally ate my hand while shoving my grilled cheese into my gnashing maw.

We had a really colorful waitress too who made sure she told us how busy she was every time she swung by our table, and I really liked that Real Talk aspect. I want to believe that we were the only table she confided in. I kept hoping she would talk shit on her other tables to us but she never did.

She probably made fun of me to her other tables though after I was a total tourist and asked WTF “sarasotas” are.

Turns out they’re just homemade potato chips served with BBQ sauce.

“That Yinzer bitch over there asked what them sarasotas is, can you imagine,” she probably said to the table of old bitches who came in for pie.

Chooch of course substituted a basket of sarasotas for his fries and Henry was very perplexed by this.

“Why don’t they just call them homemade chips with BBQ sauce, I don’t understand,” he said.

SO GIDDY.

One thing to note is that I honestly don’t recognize any of the scenery in Hamilton, for as many times as I have been there. Like, if you set me loose and said, “Find Christina’s old house or die” well I guess I’m dead. I don’t even remember the name of the street, and I used to mail her shit all of the time!

I think this is my mind’s way of protecting me, lol.

On the way there, Henry and Chooch argued over the fact that meth and methane aren’t the same.

So nothing about Jungle Jim’s was familiar to me but who cares because a REAL LIFE PIECE OF HENRY’S SERVICE PAST WAS THERE.

OMG you guys. My mind almost melted.

Chooch took these pictures because he’s my little spy in training.

Unfortunately, Tim and Henry talked about kind of boring things, mostly just catching each other up on their current lives. So Chooch and I were like, “Eh, screw this” and walked ahead of them, looking for the Romania aisle.

I never grocery shop, but Jungle Jim’s is huge and full of weird international goods and animatronics. It’s like Chuck E. Cheese for grocery shoppers. This is where I bought my first and only durian in 2004!

NEVER AGAIN!

The last time I was here was August of 2005, when I was about 65% sure I might be pregnant. There was a fortune teller thing there, so I inserted my quarter and asked, “Hey, am I pregnant? Because I mean, I just turned down ice cream in favor of mustard, so….”

I don’t remember when her prediction was, which shot out of a slot at me, but GUESS WHAT I was definitely pregnant. Technically, this was Chooch’s second time at Jungle Jim’s, I guess.

My favorite thing about Tim is that he chided Henry about not marrying me so TIM, YOU CAN STAY.

****

Here’s a quick Henry Interview!

What did you & Tim used to talk about at night when you were roommates? GIRL STUFF?

Henry: I don’t remember. It was 30 years ago. Literally, 30 years ago.

So, you and Tim lived together in that place in Indiana?

Henry: In the trailer? Yeah.

Did he know you were the town Eunuch?

Henry, sarcastically I think: Hahaha, oh my god, you’re hilarious.

Did he know you were obsessed with being Erik Estrada back then?

Henry: Just answer it yourself. I’m not answering that. You’re making shit up as always.

Hmm, I don’t know Henry. That picture tells a different story. Speaking of stories, I heard you and Tim talking about the time you drove some guy’s car into a ditch. Talk about that.

Henry: It was 1986 maybe? We had just gotten off work at 7:30 that morning and went to the bar. We (guys I worked with, there was maybe 4 or 5 of us) pretty much drank all day. I had to run home to get something* so I borrowed Joe’s car and when I got close to my house I turned the corner too sharp and went into a small ditch on the side of the road. I blew out the tire and bent the rim and then I parked it at my house, took my car back to the bar without telling him I did anything to his. He didn’t find out until the next day when he came to pick it up and he found out it was damaged so I had to pay for it.

*(Probz porn to trade.)

Good, that’s what happens WHEN YOU DRIVE DRUNK, ASSHOLE. Anyway, that was a boring story. Did you ever take a bullet for Tim?!

Henry, in an annoyed/laughing tone: No. Psh, take a bullet for Tim….

What is your most vivid memory of Tim? Was he in Panama with you?

Henry: He was always working on his car because it seemed to always be broken. I don’t remember [if he was in Panama], I don’t think so but I can’t be sure. It’s possible.

(WOW. SOME FRIENDSHIP.)

Was Tim with you when you went to see CHEAP TRICK in Texas?!

Henry, appalled at this question for some reason: No! That was when I was in training, when I just got out of basic. Tim didn’t come in until my last year maybe…

(So, right before he went AWOL.)

Henry just said he’s not going to divulge the contents of their Jungle Jim’s convo, so basically this was a huge waste of time.

****

Somewhere outside of Columbus, I was imitating Henry so intensely, that Chooch laughed so hard he pissed his pants, which just made Henry even angrier because now he was going to have to stop somewhere so Chooch could change.

“We’re never going to fucking get home. Thanks a lot, assholes,” Henry barked, which just made Chooch and me bust out our sides from all the laughter.

****

When Henry set the GPS that morning as we left our hotel in Louisville, it told us we’d be getting home sometime around 4.

We got home just shy of midnight.

Good god, that was a fun whirlwind trip to Kentucky.

Today has been pretty miserable, so miserable that I DIDNT EVEN WANT TO LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR ICE CREAM. (Don’t worry, Henry brought it back for me.)

I was laying on the couch being miserable and I kept telling Henry to please turn the channel because 2 Broke Girls was on and I’m sorry but every single voice was sodomizing me and I just couldn’t handle it for one moment more while Henry was slowly scanning the cable guide menu thing so I grabbed the remote and blindly put it on the first thing I saw which was a Mamas and Papas special on WQED – you know the kind of special, where they show a truncated documentary about the band, spliced with YOUR DONATION MAKES A DIFFERENCE!!! interruptions, where they try to wow you with a CD set that can be yours for the GENEROUS DONATION OF $256.

I love these things. We recently watched one on the Carpenters and I was in some weird 1960s fugue state for the next 6 days.

KEEP QUALITY TV ALIVE!

Thanks to Michelle Phillips, I fell down the Knots Landing rabbit hole. That was one of the shows I watched when I was a kid in the 80s, thinking it made me so cool and sophisticated because it was a grown-up show (along with Falcons Crest and Hunter, obvi). I remember watching some comedian on an HBO special at my Pappap’s house; he did lots of sight gags and pantomiming, etc, most of which went right over my head, until he tied knots in several pieces of ropes and tossed them in the air.

As they landed on the ground, he looked at the audience and said, “Knots landing.”

I thought it was the funniest shit ever, mostly because finally, I understood a thing he was doing.

Actually, I was just thinking about this guy at work a few weeks ago and asked Glenn if he knew who I was talking about because Glenn is old but he said no and that’s because Glenn doesn’t like humor.

[ETA: Bob Nelson! His name is Bob Nelson. Henry is better at Googling than me. My searches are too narrow. I’d get fired for that at work. WORK JOKE, YOU WON’T GET IT. (Actually, that’s not a joke.)]

(ETAx2: it was balloons, not ropes.)

Naturally, I had to look up the Knots Landing opening theme on YouTube, at which point my Joan van Arc hatred was reignited.

Fuck that bitch.

“When are they going to get the part where she dies?” I asked Henry, referring to Mama Cass, obviously.

“Um….the end?”

Once they got to the 1970s portion of the biopic, every time they would start a sentence with, “And then Mama Cass—” I would rush to say, “CHOKED ON A HAM SANDWICH!”

“That’s not really how she died,” Henry sighed.

“Yes it is. That’s how I drew the Mama Cass Glenn at work, so….”

So then it got to the part where Michelle Phillips nonchalantly talks about how Cass calls her one night after a show and is all, “OMG I’M SO HAPPY” and how surprising it was to hear the next day that Cass had died—

“EATING A HAM SANDWICH!!!” I cried as Michelle calmly said, “—in her sleep.”

Henry gave me a disappointed frown.

“Yeah, in her sleep, on a ham sandwich,” I argued.

“That’s not true, that’s just a rumor that the fat shamers started,” Henry sighed.

“No, here, I’ll google it—OK yeah, it says it’s an urban legend but that’s just because they’re trying to preserve her pride,” I explained.

By the end of the show, Michelle Phillips is talking about how she’s the only one left and—-

“Michelle Phillips killed them all! Michelle Phillips is the ham sandwich!” I screamed.

“Did you just tweet that out?” Henry asked, basically all of his energy drained by this point. You would think he would be used to my obsessive latching-on to the small things by now.

Like when I became obsessed with freeing some guy who went to some island and got accused of killing of a person and he totally didn’t do it because he was so handsome but this was like 2009 and I can’t remember what island or who he killed, or you know, his name.

But anyway, remember when Henry said “tweet that out”? God, what an ElderDork.

“I wonder why Cass’s daughter never sang?” Henry mused out loud.

“She could have been in Wilson Phillips!” I yelled.

“Yeah but then it might not have been called Wilson Phillips,” he pointed out.

“They could have been called H—”

“Ham Sandwich,” he finished for me, rolling his eyes.

I AM GOING TO LISTEN TO THE MAMA AND PAPAS ALL NIGHT NOW. I am not going to eat a ham sandwich though because ew, meat. I might actually paint a ham sandwich, though.

Also, what was up with some of those early album covers where their name was spelled Mama’s and Papa’s?! Who approved those?! Probably the same person who approves my blog posts! (Oh wait, that’s just me and my unwillingness to proofread.)

Now some Italian d-bag is singing for more WQED donations. What a fucking Saturday night. And to think I was just going to take some pills and go to bed at 5.

(Kidding. I don’t take pills. Because I don’t have pills.)

Ooh, I hope that Gino Vanelli concert re-airs at some point tonight!!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BJGmIzdgbWp/?taken-by=somnambulant_art

*(Henry is obviously the ho.)

You know what really helps get a bitch through the day? Knowing that there’s ice cream with good friends on the other side.

We met up with Chris and Monica at Millie’s on Friday and even though it was HOT AF, we laughed a lot (even Henry, somehow) and had a good, quality hang.

We got there early and roamed the streets, looking shady as hell. Then I saw some guy I had a crush on in middle school and frantically texted Chris to HURRY because safety in numbers.

My friend Angie was all, “I doubt he remembers” but that’s just because she’s never been on the receiving end of my crushes and has no idea the lunacy and desperate aggression fueling it.

Lots of CALL-AND-HANG-UPs.

But now this lucky man-sack’s got my attention, yee haw.

When we spotted Chris and Monica, we sent Chooch off to fetch them and somehow in the span of 30 seconds, he managed to act enough of a fool for Monica to greet me with a, “Hello, just got here and I already called your son an asshole.”

I didn’t even need to ask why! The kid can get on a fucking nerve or 187, you think that you goin’ to heaven put sluga all up in that chest and hell is where you be dwelllin’….

Sorry, that was an impromptu Bone Thugs n Harmony takeover.

Anyway, the whole reason we even went to Millie’s was because I saw on Instagram that they were adding some fresh peach flavas up in that piece (Bone’s still in me, bitch please) and one of the flavors was some type of fabled peach and sweet corn?! I texted Chris and she was all, “Lemme just shove this gat down my pants and we’ll roll right on up, white girl.”

Because that’s what Wish Bone would say if he spoke on Chris’s behalf.

(I have been in some type of MOOD all evening, my apologies. I ate a brownie that Hot Naybor Chris brought over and I can’t for certain tell you that there wasn’t pot in it. Never mind that it was from some grocery store.)

Spoiler alert: the peach and sweet corn ice cream does not exist. Little punk ass bitches lied to me on Instagram. Or you know, just used awkward syntax which forced me to not understand the flavor listings.  I asked one of the young broads behind the counter and she at first looked at me like I was speaking in sweet corn tongues, but then she said, “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, sweet corn is the base of the popcorn ice cream….?” which I tried a sample of and it was just OK, sorry Rick Sebak. I saw you said on Instagram that it was a million shades of amaze, but I just wasn’t down with the endless chewing of ice cream.

So I got the brown butter peach which I thought was excellent until I reached my second choice flavor, nestled below it like the humble sleeper hit of the summer that it has proven to be: Ella’s almond butter and honey.

Fucking Hallelujah I am saved.

Monica also got that flavor and she agreed with me so now we’re talking about writing fanfic for it. I want it to be filthy basement hardcore and she’s thinking more of a sensual 18th century back door erotica. I’m sure we’ll meet in some type of BDSM middle.

Ugh, Chooch got basic vanilla as usual but this time turned Millie’s on its head by forgoing chocolate for SALTED CARAMEL, which he then spent 25 minutes complaining about, causing Chris to interrupt herself to say, “Wait a minute—-did you say that salted caramel sucks? I WILL FIGHT YOU.”

And Monica crossed all of her fingers under the table, hoping that that night’s diary entry would be titled:

Friday, August 12th, 2016 – The night Chris finally quit that asshole kid.

Ugh, he is so fucking terrible at eating ice cream, I honestly can’t stand it.

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Chris said she got a taste of what it’s like to carry my eyeball purse around Chooch, because he heard some lady tell Chris that she liked her hair and he got super jealous because god forbid someone else should get an ounce of attention in the presence of the Almighty Drama King.

After we finished our respective scoops, Chris suggested that we go for a walk about the ‘hood, so we took our show on the sidewalk. Chooch and I acted like morons while Chris pointed out all of the deadly wrought-iron fences she dreams to have ensconcing her future yard.

My Ice Cream Crew. I want to make us matching ringer tees. We need a better name first. Monica?

Accidental flash brings out my Nosferatu teeth.

Henry was so annoyed.

Chris kept saying she wanted to “see the church, the big one” but this was the only one we could find:

I wanted to break in and Henry said no.

When I finally realized what church Chris was trying to walk to, it was too late because we all had to get home and watch the Olympics. Bone Thugs have a song about that too but I can’t think of the words right now.

Something about diving into that icy blue and swim swam swum like da’ popo’s after u.

This was the perfect salvaging of a shitty day. Ice cream friends are the best friends!

I’ve mentioned it on here several times in the past but my love of clowns comes from my grandma–she had an entire room full of them in her house. Technically, that room was the stereo room, but ever since I was little, I always referred to it as at the clown room and it was hands down my favorite room in that house. Her collection was enchanting! It was always my dream to one day have my own clown room, but for now, my collection is just kind of all over the house.

I made a special birthday request for my friends to draw me clown art, because how special would that be to have a gallery wall filled with such personal pieces? Ugh, I’m so sentimental.

Anyway, here’s some of the creations I got, and I just love them all so much!

Maya, chibi doll-maker extraordinaire, made me this adorable stuffed clown which I’m going to make a frame for because I don’t want to lose it, ever! Maya is temporarily on hiatus but I really hope she returns to the crafting world soon because I’m craving more chibis for my band dude collection.

LIKE PERHAPS BRADLEY FROM EMAROSA?! OMG swoon.

When Sandy lugged this old clown string-art thing over to my desk last week, I was like, “OMFG YES!” while everyone was like, “OMFG NO!!” I keep forgetting to ask her where she found it, and I really hope it’s haunted, like maybe it was a mental institution arts and craft project. I temporarily have it leaning against the fireplace at home and when Chooch’s dumb cat Drew noticed it for the first time, her eyes got saucer-like and she literally sprung backward and ran away. It was the best!

Wendy abhors clowns so for her to suck it up and draw this for me was like, it was just huge, OK? “It’s so cute!” I cried and that offended her because it was supposed to be creepy. “See, it has a bug in its mouth,” Wendy pointed out. SO ADORABLE.

And Sandy’s kids got in on the action too! I finally have Zoe and Elena originals, so blessed! Sandy wants me to assign art projects more often, but not too often.

BRB going to find some picture frames!

During our travels on Saturday, we pulled up to Antique Emporium in Beaver Falls at the exact moment they closed. I wailed about this and of course blamed Henry who took it in stride because this is normal life for him. Had I softly said, “Shucks, oh well. That’s life. Perhaps another time we can come back and try again, but for now, let’s go home and I’ll cook you a nice big supper, dear heart” he probably would have tried to rip my face off to reveal the corrupt robot underneath.

The next day, I declared that we were going to go back to the antique place, because I had a Good Feeling about it. Sometimes, when you know you know, you know?

But first we had to feed our Child-Thing, so we stopped at Hank’s, which is some walk-up snack shack in New Brighton that specializes in custard and Mexican food. Obviously. I already ate before we left the house because I was pouting and doing that defiant thing I do where I slam shit around so that everyone is aware that LOOK, ERIN IS DOING THINGS FOR HERSELF MAYBE I SHOULD OFFER TO HELP but of course no one offered to help so I had some dumb microwavable foodstuff because there is not much more I can handle.

Henry claims that we went to Hank’s once a long time ago but I allegedly “threw a fit” in the parking lot which doesn’t sound like a thing that I would do.

At all.

I wish I had known that we were going to be stopping here, because I took one or 8 giant bites of Chooch’s bean burrito and it was divine, just the way I want my American knock-off Mexican food to be!

.

Here is a picture of Chooch, still being a vegetarian.

Ugh I want to go back there and get my own burrito. :(

After Hank’s, we finally made it back to Antique Emporium and I gave Chooch the stern “DON’T TOUCH A THING” lecture before we crossed the threshold and it always reminds me of the time my grandma was doing the same thing to me in Italy (Assisi, I think?) when we were in some BREAKABLES! shop and then guess who knocked over a bunch of glass shit with her PURSE? Not this girl—I was wearing a fucking fanny pack.

And then my Pappap had to pay for all the shit my GRANDMA broke.

So every time I preemptively yell at Chooch about these things, I can’t help but worry that I’m jinxing myself.

Luckily, the proprietors of this establishment are super chill and instead of giving Chooch the hairy eyeball, they gave us a run-down of the shop, including where to pour ourselves some COMPLIMENTARY WINE, and the fact that they offer LAYAWAY.

Henry wishes he could rewind time and slap a hand over her mouth before she had the chance to say it.

We weren’t in the place for more than 30 seconds when I found an old arcade game topper from the early 90s that I knew I had to have.

“For what?!” Henry asked incredulously.

“We’ll take down Chooch’s picture from above the fireplace mantel, throw it in a closet, and put this in its place!” I cooed, hands folded adoringly across my heart. 

Henry wouldn’t commit right away (shocking) so we continued exploring the three floors of the shop and even Chooch was into it, I think because it wasn’t your typical stuffy antique shop. It had loads of historical items and lots of medieval-looking furniture that I want to fill Gillcrest with.

I had a strange conversation with the man-proprietor of the shop, when I thought he was asking me if I found my phone case there, and we both kept repeating ourselves at the same time and it was a complete fuckarow which ended with us having a conversation about unicorn tears (my phone case is a big floppy pink cup that says Unicorn Tears, and has a straw). Henry told me later that what the man was really asking me was if I found anything there, which is the point where I all but THRUST my phone at him so he could get a better look at my case.

This is why I try not to leave the house too often.

But anyway — yes I did find something there, actually!

A FUCKING WHEELCHAIR!

ON SALE!

AND THEY HAVE LAYAWAY.

Turns out Henry had already seen the wheelchair and was hoping I would miss it, but like come on man – my wheelchair senses were firing off from two rooms over.

We did a lot of hissing back and forth and Henry left me standing there alone, my tears mixing with the unicorn’s, but I knew it wasn’t over yet. IT’S NEVER OVER UNTIL I SAY IT IS.

Henry told the man that we were going to take the arcade game piece and believe me, I was extremely happy about this but who knows how safe that wheelchair was?! Anyone could have come in and snatched it! So we resumed our hush-hush domestic financial hissing until Henry finally conceding and told the man that we would also be putting the wheelchair on layaway (THANK YOU LAYAWAY) and then to me he growled, “You fucking owe me” when the man was out of earshot.

Look at this beautiful baby! This puts my wheelchair count up to three so I can almost comfortably call it a collection. I need at least three more though!

My love for old wheelchairs is indescribable and I can’t even believe Henry panders to it.

And this guy!!! Henry said he’s pretty sure it can be rewired or whatever so that it will light up again.

I woke Henry up from a nap later to have him hoist it up against the fireplace wall so I could see how magical it looked. That’s when I realized that the wall needs to be painted for. Probably hot pink. I haven’t decided yet.

Because I’m a materialistic brat, this was a great ending to my dumb birthday weekend! Yay – more stuff that makes no sense to most people’s interior aesthetic but looks perfectly at home in my house!

On our way home from FOREVER FAR ICE CREAM on my birthday (a/k/a Forbush’s), I fell down a 1980s girl-pop rabbit hole, as previously mentioned. I was peeping the related artists for either Stacey Q or Lisa Lisa, who can remember, when I stumbled across a name that my heart swell.

Stevie B.

If you were friends with me in high school and are reading this right now, you’re probably starting to twitch, recalling the aural trauma you endured every time you got in a car with me and I popped in my mix tape of a radio-requested “Because I Love You,” not just once but 8 different radio recordings, all starting with my angelic voice manically blurting out, “This is Susie….from Clairton….” like anyone from school would have honestly been listening to Lite FM, but you never know, so I always used an alias. Usually the recordings would get cut off, or I would miss the beginning. But that tape was all I had.

I can’t even remember how it started – summer before junior year, probably. I just happened to hear it once on the radio (Spanish One Hit Wonder night?). My heart skipped a beat and my inherent obsessiveness sunk its claws into me and demanded me to grind this song into the ground.

The problem — or challenge — of the 90s was that you couldn’t just hop online and download a song. I had to physically walk into a record store and look for a Stevie B. CD. Maybe you’re shocked, but none of the local record stores carried it, nor did they even know who the fuck Stevie B. even was.

According to Wiki, Stevie B. was influential in the Hi-NRG dance music scene in the late 80s, so go fuck yourself National Record Mart, and probably Camelot, too. AND MUSIC OASIS.

I was going to have to be content with my mixtape full of radio recordings, I thought. Until I mentioned it one day to my Aunt Sharon.

The thing you need to know about my Aunt Sharon is that she was relentless when it came to obtaining something. She loved writing letters to companies, making calls to customer service hotlines, and in this case, flipping through the Yellow Pages and calling every last record store in Pittsburgh, until she was finally able to get one of them to order my Stevie B Holy Grail.

All the other things she could have been doing, but she stopped everything until she made damn well sure that I was going to have a motherfucking Stevie B CD to play a million times on repeat.

That story has a much happier ending than the time Sharon went to the mall to buy me Da Brat’s debut CD only to refuse after discovering it had A PARENTAL ADVISORY sticker on it. (My mom ended up buying it for me later because let’s be real, she didn’t give a shit about that.)

***

I found “Because I Love You” on Spotify that day, because it’s 2016 and if you can’t find something on the Internet then it probably only existed in your dreams. OR THE GOVT IS HIDING IT FROM YOU.

With much anticipation from Henry and Chooch, I pushed play; even with a large nostalgia cloud to the head, I still couldn’t help but notice that something about it was off.

“Like right there, when he says ‘Come on in’ — he’s adding a syllable to it and THAT’S NOT IN THE RADIO EDIT!” I cried. And then toward the end, he swaps out an “I” for a “STEVIE B.”

What the hell.

“This is all wrong,” I said with panicked desperation, scrolling through Spotify in search of the actual album version and not all these “REMASTERED” bastardized versions of the original classic.

“Ugh, they all sound the same!” Chooch groaned from the backseat after I played the third one.

“NO, THERE’S A VERY DISTINCT DIFFERENCE AND I CAN’T LIKE THESE MODERN VERSIONS, I NEED THE 1990 MASTERPIECE,” I angrily yelled, turning to YouTube for assistance. Go home, Spotify.

And of course YouTube pulled through for me.

“Do you hear the difference!?” I shouted.

“Nope,” Henry mumbled, praying that this Stevie B marathon would not surpass 4 plays.

Oh my heart soared! Hearing this song again, remembering the time I serenaded everyone in the parking lot of Dell’s Ice Cream in Munhall on a humid summer night, remembering Sharon giving me the actual CD after it arrived in the mail, remembering the excitement of getting my hands on something so elusive—it was bittersweet.

And it also inspired me to full-body pantomime my emotions along with all the good parts while Henry was “TRYING TO DRIVE!!!!”

I’m positive I thanked you for this back in 1996, but hey Sharon? If you’re reading this, thanks again. <3

Even if there was only one band that I even remotely, slightly cared about on this year’s Warped Tour, I would still go and here’s why: there has never not been a time when I haven’t left there with at least one new band to love, or an old band to have newfound respect for.

If you like music at all, no matter what your age is, you could probably find at least one band that piqued your interest. Probably. I don’t know. (Even Henry usually likes one band, and that’s a guy who likes Ted Nugent, you know? If there’s hope for him there’s hope for all.) The festival is very well-rounded in that regard and if people hate on it, it’s probably because they’ve either reached that crotchety “THINGS WERE BETTER IN THE 90s” phase in their life, or they just have some preconceived notion that it’s literally a field overrun with feral scene kids and bros.

Please – my tolerance for kids is pretty non-existent so if I can float through an entire day on a cloud of bliss and ignorance, then you know it can’t be all that bad!

They don’t even make me feel old! And let’s be real, I’ll be 37 by the time I finally get off my ass and finish writing this idiotic post, so this isn’t exactly my demographic.

THAT BEING SAID, here are the bands I saw at this year’s Warped Tour. Bands that are in bold are the ones I have deemed worthy of expanding upon and you know how much I love expanding. Have you seen my waistline?

• In Heart’s Wake (If I hadn’t been going through a personal life crisis, I would have probably REALLY ENJOYED this set; these guys are on my radar now at least. But right now all I associate them with is Chooch literally pacing in circles begging me for my phone so he could play Pokemon Go and I JUST CAN’T WITH POKEMON GO.)
• Assuming We Survive (Chooch said he didn’t care about them but then inexplicably wanted to meet them until he saw the line)
• Real Friends (I got as far as waiting for them to come out before freaking out for the 2nd time that morning and walking toward the exit)
• I See Stars (some – I really want to like them more than I do; th)
• Ballyhoo! (some)
• Issues
• Knuckle Puck
• Bad Seed Rising
• Hail the Sun (Chooch fucking pissed me off and I ended up storming off because he kept trying to TALK TO ME while I was attempting to ENJOY A BAND THAT I LOVE. Rude. I was right in front of the stage too when I stormed off, ensuring that there were ample witnesses. But fuck, those two songs were tight as fuck, yo. I LOVE YOU HTS. I will see you in October with Dance Gavin Dance! Chooch, you’re lucky that I’ve seen them a million times.)

• Young Guns (they were playing in the background when I had another freak out and then Henry was all, “THAT’S IT WE’RE LEAVING FOR REAL THIS TIME, FUCK THIS NOISE” and Chooch and I were like “Haha, have fun leaving, we’re gonna go down here and wait for Emarosa” and then Henry was only bluffing anyway – we saw him hiding behind a thing.)
• Sykes (they were playing on the other side of the stage while we waited for Emarosa and I liked them just fine, but hurry up because Emarosa.)
• EMAROSA!!!!!!! (They got their own post.)
• Ghost Town (Chooch and Henry went to see coldrain during this. WHATEVER BITCHES.)
• Set It Off
• Oceans Ate Alaska (LOVE this band. They can melt my face any fucking day. Chooch and Henry ditched me during this because they can’t handle it.)

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• State Champs (I 100% do not remember watching their set but I have video and a picture….?? And I like Stamp Champs too so this is completely confusing and terrifying all at once.)

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• With Confidence 
• Secrets (Henry fell asleep during them and they were pretty scream-y, so there goes Henry showing off his God-given talent of BLOCKING IT ALL OUT.
• Waterparks
• Chunk! No, Captain Chunk

Issues: I wouldn’t even say I’m a casual fan of Issues, because Tyler Carter has always kind of rubbed me the wrong way and I will forever associate him with Jonny Craig (like when they had a fight and Jonny demanded that Tyler remove the “4L” from his name because JONNY STARTED THAT?!) But everyone in the stupid Warped Tour videos I love to watch kept saying “OMG Issues is a can’t-miss this year” and I figured, nothing else was playing at that time, so why not give them a second chance. The only other time I’ve seen them was when they opened for Dance Gavin Dance in 2013 – so they’re actually the first band that Chooch has even seen live. He liked them then and now he REALLY LIKES THEM because they’re marketing geniuses and worked the Pokemon theme into their merch AND played that dumb Pokemon song when they first came out. One thing that you can say for certain about Issues is that they are genre-bending. They even have a quasi-country jam with some country singer who I don’t care about and Chooch really likes that song for some reason which concerns me because is this the GATEWAY INTO COUNTRY MUSIC FANDOM for him?! I can already see him pissing in the parking lot of a Kenny Chesney concert just to defy me and perfectly curated standards.

The only video I had of their set was through Snapchat so that shit is gone baby gone but here is a video for COMA which has been stuck in my head ever since and will probably go down in history as the one Issues song I actually REALLY LOVE, because I want to be all you think about, anything and everything you dream about. (Fuck, you got me. I like this song a lot too.)

Henry’s review: Eh, they weren’t…I don’t know. They just didn’t do it for me. They opened up good but then….I wouldn’t see them again.

(SOMEONE GET THIS DICK A JOB AT PITCHFORK.)

Knuckle Puck: in full pop-punk disclosure, I am what you would call a CASUAL FAN of this band. I know their album’s name is Copacetic because I love that word and would never forget something like that, but damn I couldn’t name one song for you. However, I have been wanting to see them live and we missed them at Bled Fest (we saw The Beautiful Gorgeous’s last show ever instead), so we clomped our way down into the pavilion and this is where Chooch kept talking to be able it French fries and I was like I DONT CARE DO WHAT YOU WANT so he had Henry go and get us French fries (US! He said he was going to SHARE them) and I stupidly assumed that Henry knew to get them with that weird cheese sauce that First Niagara Pavilion slings, but he came back with just ketchup and I was like WHAT KIND OF INJUSTICE ARE YOU SERVING ME RIGHT NOW? That just made me snap out again (the ground was made of egg shells at this point) and I left the two of them standing there, watching a band they couldn’t give a shit about.

See ya another time  when I’m not being a moody asshole, Knuckle Puck. :(

Henry’s review: We didn’t stay there very long, did we? I can’t remember when that was, so I can’t say yes or not.

(To be fair, he was off buying french fries that were all wrong.)

https://www.instagram.com/p/BIeNNIAAVPA/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

With Confidence: Oh man, I will be honest and say that I was only waiting for them because it was the closest stage to where we were standing and nothing else was happening during this time, but good god damn am I happy for this accident because they were fucking SWEETHEARTS! And also, FROM AUSTRALIA!!! God, I love Australian bands. I also love how many non-American bands were on Warped Tour this year.

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That guy wore a With Confidence shirt to a With Confidence show.

Henry’s review: Was that on the little stage? I”m trying to think what band that was.

Ghost Town: I saw them by myself because Henry and Chooch were somewhere else and I’m not their keeper so GO I DON’T CARE. Anyway, this band is so reminiscent of mid-2000s nu-emo, kind of like that wave of candy-coated quasi post-hardcore that rode the wave in with Pierce the Veil, the kind of bands with fluorescent merch and scene queens loitering by the bus after every show. I’d say this kind of music is my guilty pleasure, but I KNOW NO GUILT. I derive unabashed, wanton pleasure from synthy-scene jams. Plus, they have upright coffins on stage with them, so of course that caters to my interests.

They make me want to start living my life with a dramatic side-part and raccoon eyes again, you guys. Where did I put all of those old hair bows….

https://www.instagram.com/p/BIeNW83A_ms/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Henry’s review: I would see them, yeah.

Set It Off: This was only my second time seeing them and I think they’re fun watch but if we’re being honest, there’s really only ONE SONG that I l-l-l-love and that’s The Haunting. So we wandered off right after they played that one and it’s fine because I’m not a true fan. I don’t make that diamond symbol with my hands like all the girls do.

We were there though when Cody launched into this full-fledged self-help motivational speech about reaching for the stars, etc blah blah, it’s never too late, don’t let anyone stop you, and Henry gave me multiple shoulder squeezes that translated into “Yeah, Erin, it’s never too late to make your dreams a reality!” and I was just like, “It is when you’re dead inside.”

Anyway, a few days later some girl tweeted that her two favorite singers sang together and it was CODY AND BRADLEY FROM EMAROSA?! So I asked her if she had a video and she sent it to me on Twitter it I don’t think I can save it and I am so pained. BUT FUCK YES I WAS ABLE TO EMBED IT HERE!!!  THANK YOU TWITTER USER RACHELBEE!! I have watched this so many times while making Pudding Face.

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Henry’s review: I don’t mind them. I would see them again….?

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These coppers were thoroughly enjoying all of Cody’s crotch grabs. So was Henry.

Bad Seed Rising: Oh shit you guys, I saw them accidentally after I ran away from Henry and Chooch while wearing my crown of Drama Queen thorns. I was planning on continuing my angry stomp across the grounds when I heard the singer unleash a gutteral scream and that’s when I realized it was this tiny girl. YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION. This was actually the only time all day that I almost got caught in the hardcore-dancing crossfire. I wish that I would have gotten punched because that could have been another thing for me to cry about that day. Boo hoo.

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And she can SANG too y’all. So picky with chicks, especially ones that think that they can scream, but this one got my seal of approval.

I’m secretly happy that Henry missed this because I got to say, “Man, you have no idea how amazing it was” at least 67 times so far and he acts like he doesn’t care but he cares.

Henry’s review—OH WAIT HAHAHA HE WASN’T THERE.

Waterparks: I wasn’t sure what to expect with these guys, because Alt Press seems to be hyping them in the same way they hyped 5SOS and I just can’t get behind that media-choreographed hysteria, you know? Waterparks opened for Never Shout Never last winter, but Chooch and I got there after they played. When we walked into Mr. Smalls, the singer flat out interrupted the girl who was talking to him just so he could tell Chooch he liked his hair (it was still kind of pink back then). So that’s a definite stand-out impression for me.

Guys, my preconceived notions about this band were incorrect! They were fun and entertaining, and the singer Awsten’s stage banter was hilarious and smart. Funnily enough, he had a weirdness about him that definitely reminded me of Christofer Drew from Never Shout Never. This is all to say that I fell in some serious like with Waterparks on this evening and I will be looking out for them to come back to Pittsburgh so that I can go see them, by myself probably,

I would ask Henry what he thought of them, but he slept through their whole entire set, so…..

(I posted this video on Chooch’s Instagram because I figured all of my friends are OVER IT by now, haha.)

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Chunk! No Captain Chunk: I feel like these guys got made fun of a lot when they were new, but now it seems like more people have accepted the fact that France has produced a pop-punk band. I personally enjoy them on a casual level, arms-length if you will, but for some reason Chooch was adamant that we watch them. This made Henry groan because they were the last band to play on the Cyclops stage, right as Warped Tour was winding down, which meant there was no chance of Henry escaping early like we have been able to do in past years when there were no bands left that we cared about.

Chooch’s favorite things about their set was when the singer would pronounce Pittsburgh like “PEETS-burgh” and the fact that they covered Smash Mouth’s “All Star” — I didn’t realize he was such a fan of that song?! Chooch was disappointed that I didn’t get a video it and I was like, “Why would I, though?”.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BH9qWt6jQfe/?taken-by=butt_jam

Henry’s review: Um…I didn’t mind them. I don’t know. I would see them again…?

Anyway, it was a nice FEEL-GOOD note to end Warped Tour on this year. Sorry I was such an asshole for the first half of the day.

And that wraps up this year’s edition of bands we saw at Warped Tour, some of us were clearly more into it than others. The line-up was exceptional this year and I wish I could have multiplied myself to be at every stage at the same time, except for when Falling In Reverse, Reel Big Fish, or Motionless In White were playing because I go out of my way to avoid those ones! (I don’t like supporting women-beaters, ska bands, or cheesy metal.)

I’m already counting down for next year! I could use a massive do-over and I’ll be sure not to answer my phone this time if it rings. Le sigh.