This is the last leg of the Maramures adventures and also when things began to unravel – you knew it was bound to happen!

WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT GODDAMN ICE-CAPPED MOUNTAIN BACK THERE THOUGH?? I don’t think I have ever snapped so many pictures out of a car window before in my life. But anyway, this was after we left the Barsana Monastery and stupidly said, “Eh, we’ll eat at the next stop!” when we were considering whether or not to get something from the food vendor in the monastery parking lot. Dumb dumb dumb.

The geotag on this picture tells me we were passing through Strimtura. Also, I’d like to note that lots of elderly people bike around in Romania. I was saying that you rarely see this in the States and Henry immediately referenced two old men who bike through our town of Brookline regularly and I was like, “OK HENRY, BUT ASIDE FROM THEM!!!” God.

Calinesti provided some STOP THE CAR! worthy views.

So, in an effort to keep this final Maramures recap short and short (I really want to move on to SIGHISOARA which was my favorite town in Romania!!), after leaving the monastery (maybe by the end of this post I will have learned how to spell MONASTERY on the first try and nope, that one was not it) I had thought we were headed to Budesti but Henry had looked at an incorrect version of the itinerary that Copilot had lovingly helped me craft and he was heading somewhere else which I didn’t know until we reached that somewhere else and discovered that the only road to reach it was blocked off by the electric company and a small huddle of villagers. I don’t know what was going on, but it was clear that the incident was not close to being resolved.

Henry was all, “THERE HAS GOT TO BE ANOTHER ROAD TO GET THERE” and started jabbing at the car’s navigation screen with his angry man stubs. This brought us to a DIRT ROAD that wound up a hill and into farmland and then eventually turned into a DIRT PATH which prompted Henry to scream “WE ARE ON SOMEONE’S PROPERTY I THINK THIS IS A FUCKING HORSE TRAIL” as the car was catapulting us over rocks and divots. I have some video of this – it was cracking me up, but Henry was SCARED. (Not of some farmer coming after us with a shotgun, but that he was going to bust the rental car and be in BIG TROUBLE with the Enterprise guy at the Bucharest airport who fucking haaaaaaaated us.)

It was around this point when I realized, “Hey wait, where are you even trying to get us to?” after I really – finally – looked at the map on the screen.  Henry was trying to get us to Ieud, but I wanted to go to Budesti. I still don’t know exactly at what point the miscommunication started to bake this casserole of chaos, but here we were in the middle of nowhere, Henry frantically trying not to get the car stuck or send us careening over a surprise cliff.

Green = where we started

Blue = where we were lost

Red = where we needed to be

Of course, the only way to get to Budesti from Ieud was to go all the way back to Barsana and down to Budesti. We were running out of daylight and had to check in to our guest house by no later than 8:30 that evening, so it was a frantic drive from here on out (spoiler – everything in Budesti was either closed by the time we got there or we missed some magical entrance, so basically the whole last half of our day was spent in the car, starving because we didn’t pass a single store until much later!).

I will say it wasn’t all a bust though because the scenery in Budesti was chef’s kiss. Not to mention we had another “YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS NORMAL ROAD SO WE ARE REDIRECTING YOU TO SOME RARELY USED MOUNTAIN ROAD” moment which was terrifying because the road was pockmarked with potholes and if ever we were going to break down and get mauled by bears, it would have had to have been on this portion of the drive. Especially since the sun was setting and every roiling shadow I saw on the sides of the road just SCREAMED “big bear silhouette!!! alert!!!” to me.

Honestly though, we might have missed out on whatever crafty local wares were to be had in the village of Budesti, but we got to cleanse our eyeballs with some poppin’ views.

Cernesti brings the vistas.

Driving through a town called Strimbu-Baiut – the sky was immaculate.

After stopping at a convenience store in some tiny town and stocking up on snacks* in lieu of dinner (REMMEBER WHEN I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO EAT DINNER IN BUDESTI LOLOLOL), we made it to the town of Beclean around 8:30 as expected and the owner (?) of the guest house was waiting for us. We were the only guests in the whole place and I felt so awful when I learned later from Henry that she had come out specifically to meet us and check us in. Ugh, hopefully she lives close by and didn’t have to sit there all evening watching the news (which I noticed was talking about Charlie Kirk #vom when we walked past the office to enter the house.

*(I got some delicious pastry that I grudgingly shared with Henry, and cheese curls. Both were good but not SATISFYING.)

After bringing our stuff in, we headed out to two nearby grocery stores (one was the ubiquitous Penny and the other one was a smaller shop that I didn’t write down the name of but did say that Henry majorly embarrassed me at the bakery counter by saying CHEESE? CHEESE? over and over to the confounded lady working back there until I waved him off and just pointed to the one I wanted after determining on my own that it was a fruit something or other and when I ate it in the next morning in the car, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was filled with a delicious raspberry filling) for some more sustenance and things to eat in the morning. I was obsessed with these 7 Days “croissants” that were pretty stale tasting but filled with delicious things like chocolate and various fruits. I preferred the “forest fruit” variety. It was just a cheap and super-convenient breakfast pastry to eat in the car and also something that I would never eat at home, so it was also a treat! I didn’t think they were strictly distinct to Romania only but when I googled, the website has a New Jersey contact address which made me LOL. Maybe I can find them in Wawa next time I’m out that way?? BUT WILL THEY HAVE FOREST FRUIT.

I did also see in my Internet travels that Romania specifically is “obsessed” with them. Someone asked “why” on Reddit and there is a whole thread of Romanians arguing about if they’re good or not lol. It sounds like the general consensus is that it’s a nostalgia thing – grabbing one from a convenience store on the way to school as a kid type shit.

That Candy Can sat in the car, unfinished, for a few days before I finally tossed it. It was like drinking sparkling simple syrup. My teeth were screaming.

It’s amazing how tired simply being in a car for most of the day can make you. I slept real well that night!

I took these pictures the next morning before we left (it was actually kind of creepy being the only guests there, I’m not going to lie):

We sat out here the night before, drinking a beer and I wrote some postcards – MAYBE IT WAS FOR YOU.

This was the beer we drank that night, I had to take this picture the next morning when I realized that GOD FORBID I had forgotten to check it into Untapped.

Here’s a compilation of our Maramures day – the last clip is my favorite, also I purposely recorded for nearly the entirety of Call Me Maybe because it reminded me of MY LOVING SON, CHOOCH.

Our next stop after the Memorial to the Victims of Communism was a 28 minutes drive to a town called Barsana. There is a beautiful wooden church and monastery there that I had to see. I was so nervous that it was going to be closed because we were really racing against the setting sun – there is just never enough time when you’re on vacation!

This will mostly just serve as a photo dump because nothing super memorable happened other than me and Henry admiring the wooden structures.

This was a town called Oncesti, halfway between Sighetu Marmatiel and Barsana.

We made it! It is free to enter, but we did of course stop by the gift shop on the way out for magnets. I mean, obvi.

Most of the buildings here are inaccessible to the general public because this is an active nunnery. I didn’t see any of the nuns while we were there though unless the older lady in the gift shop was one.

I actually felt like we were in Switzerland for a minute!

I love religious art so much.

The inside of the church was so beautiful! There were a handful of other visitors there at the same time and they all seemed to be actively religious people so I was trying to hang back until they were done praying and fearing God, etc.

I kept going on and on about how much I loved the color palette and Henry was like, “Ok. Cool.”

I’m not a religious person but I love going inside churches and cathedrals in other places and then I always feel like, “Wow, maybe I really am religious” until we’re in the car driving away and suddenly I’m back to hailing Satan and puking up green pea soup (FORESHADOWING lol).

Looking back at these pictures, though, I’m filled with this super cozy, sentimental feeling. It was such a beautiful afternoon, barely anyone else was there, and Henry and I were still card-carrying members of the Get Along Gang. Somehow, someway! Maybe it was all the churches we visited, infecting us with Christ-dust, but I really feel like our couple’s road trip through Romania made us like each other more or something, I don’t know, don’t make me say more.

Henry’s recap of our time at Rimetea: “I walked up a hill, I walked down a hill, I took a couple of pictures.” He is actually stunned that I have managed to take a 2 hour late morning stop and stretch it into three whole blog posts.

Hello. It’s me. Erin Appledale. Did you fucking FORGET?

We’re currently en route to Columbus, Ohio for a concert so I figured maybe we could collab on this last recap but he said, “No.”

So anyway! What had happened after the waterwheel detour was that we saw a rocky lane leading up toward the mountains so we decided to walk up that way and see some closer views.

This was the view facing back down toward the town.

  Me being me.

On the way up here, we passed a small parking lot where a group of people were preparing to head out on a hike. And across from them in a small clearing was a man laying down with another pacing around him and giving him what appeared to be a pep talk. I think the man laying down didn’t want to hike the mountain lol. He ended up joining the rest of their group though so good for him!

We weren’t dressed for a hike so we admired the mountains from here.

I actually love this picture so much because I didn’t know Henry was taking it and he caught me genuinely admiring the scenery. No fake smiles!

Ew.

Selfies from both directions, of course.

Chatted with this biggun’ on the way back down but then he found people more interesting in the hiking parking lot and strutted away from us. Typical.

Walked around some more, taking it all in. I just kept saying, “I can’t believe we’re here. Can you believe we’re here???”

Henry said “the scenery” when I asked him for two things he liked about Rimetea and he is either still thinking of a second one or forgot the question already because I never received a follow up.

We wanted to get langos before leaving but I needed to wash my hands first after petting so many dogs and cats during our leisurely strolling. There was a public restroom back by the church. I started to go up the steps to enter but it was a pay-to-pee sitch and the payment thing was broken. Some girl limbo’d under the barrier thing but I was like “no I’m not doing that in these tight jeans and bad back” and also there was an old woman there who also was like “guess I’m not peeing” At least I assume that’s what she was saying in Romanian.

Henry meanwhile was like, “what is the problem? Is this an opportunity for me to be a hero??” And so he walked up to inspect the payment thing and then realized that the turnstile could just be pulled open so he did that for me and then the old lady was like “!!!!” So she was also able to pee, thanks to Henry who earned his “Even in Romania” hero complex badge.

It was a nice little “breaking the language barrier” moment.

After stopping at a gift shop to acquire my magnet, it was finally langos time!! Of course we didn’t know this then but langos is of Hungarian origins – I just knew that it was a popular street food in parts of Romania so it was on my list. It’s fried dough – like a savory elephant ear that you’d get a fair – and the version we got had a creamy garlic sauce and the most delicious salty shredded cheese on it.

There’s a polarizing pizza place in Pittsburgh called Betos that notoriously tops their pizza with cold shredded cheese after the pizza has been baked and I fucking HATE IT. However, this works so well on langos and it gradually melted as we were eating it. Betos could NEVER.

I dream of this langos.

This was intentional – I wanted a picture of our feet on Rimetea ground lol.

Post office! Of course when I don’t need one (yet – this would eat up lots of time in Bucharest because me and my postcard habit) , we seem to bump into them constantly.

Took one last stroll to walk off the langos which we BEASTED.

Even the haystacks in Romania are adorable!!

It was on this street where we passed a house that had a dog that looked like Bambi :( I sent a video to Chooch and he was like OMG THAT DOG HATES YOU!!! because it was barking so angrily lol.

Before leaving, we stopped by the kurtos vending in the parking lot. I did know that this was a Hungarian treat (chimney cakes) but it was here that the vendor struck up a friendly conversation with us after learning we were American (ugh) and explained to us the history of Rimetea, how it was part of Hungary and that most of the people living there are Hungarian. It all made sense after that! I don’t know how I didn’t learn that in my itinerary-planning and appreciated that he took the time to tell us all of this while making us a fresh cinnamon kurtos. (See?? This is why I told Henry not to buy one from that guy in Sibiu. Now our first kurtos got to be an authentic & fresh one!)

This guy was so nice! I will never forget him. Or that kurtos. It was perfectly crispy and cinnamony on the outside, soft and pillowy (and piping hot!!) on the inside.

Mmm. Kurtos.

We left off at the part of the day where we paid to see some old-ass water wheel but here are some other pictures taken prior to that with the DSLR. It took me forever to edit these because apparently our computer is on its last leg so that’s cool. I almost took a sledgehammer to it last night. Many tantrums were had.

The Orthodox Church. For some reason I didn’t get many great pictures of it, but I do have it captured on video which I will post at some point.

I just couldn’t get over the architecture of these houses and that foreboding rocky slab looming in the background! Look, this was a very quiet commune. Yes, there were some tour groups (all seemed to be regional) milling about here and there but it was extremely serene and didn’t feel like a money grab. Well…until we got to the water wheel thing where we were told by the old man manning the grounds that we had to pau 20 LEI to see it, or at least that’s what we figured what was going on. There was no signage or anything and Henry said he felt like maybe we only had to pay because he could tell we were dumb ‘mericans BUT I read on a blog that he apparently does ask that a “pay what you can” donation be made to see his collection of vintage Romanian/Hungarian items and, had we been able to understand Romanian, he’d have taken time to give us a brief tour. I think now, in hindsight, that’s what he was attempting to do. Stupid fucking English. I wish we knew more languages. :(

Here’s the man that collected our watermill dues. Honestly, I was happy to contribute to the livelihood of this charming place and to see his collection.

Henry was like, “NO I DON’T THINK SO!!!” when I asked, “Do you think we’re allowed to climb up there?” but then the watermill guy guided me back in later on and made sure that I climbed up there!! I had to wait because there were idiot kids up there with their parents, doing idiot kid things. But then it was my turn and I got to see the water wheel thing from a different vantage and it was cool, especially because Henry didn’t get to go up there and see it for himself so I felt special.

Apparently, this traditional furniture was hand-painted by the watermill guy’s wife. It was all so beautiful!

Has to be haunted.

Corn is corn no matter where you are, I guess.

But no, come on.  Autumnal visuals on lock!

God forbid I end this post without including any pictures of my goofy mug.

One more Rimetea post coming up and then I swear we will move on to…the afternoon of Day 2. I’M SORRY, EVEN VIRTUALLY I AM A FREAKING YAPPER. I have only gotten to talk about this stuff IRL to 4 people: Sue & Margie last week at dinner, and then my therapist and dietician, LOL. So, I have a lot of words to expel!

Sibiu was our first real stop on our Transylvanian roadtrip and it was everything it was cracked up to be! And by that I mean it was just like all of the travel vlogs I watched on YouTube, lol.

Here is a map of Day 1, which shows us flying into Bucharest, staying at the Scala Boutique and then embarking by car to Sibiu. I wish the map was more detailed so you could see the crazy roads that lead us there!

And here are some quick facts about Sibiu:

• pronounced Si-BOO;
• it’s known for its Germanic architecture and most notably, the vents in the roofs look like eyeballs. I LOVED THIS, OBVI;
• it was built by the Saxons in the 12th century so it is super elderly as far as cities go.

I was really stoked to see this place with my own roof-top eyeballs!

Literally the first thing we did after finding a parking spot was go to our very first Luca! I fucked up and ordered something with ham & cheese and realized it before it was even in my hand, so I hurriedly added a pretzel-y thing to the order. I barely even got to taste it though because immediately after this, our guest house host came to get us! We were staying right across from Luca so that was how I found my way back each time, lol.

Dude, you know I’m framing this! Luca is extremely popular in Romania. They are honestly everywhere, sometimes even two on the same block. There are other similar places too – walk-up bakeries/cafes all over the place, you could never go hungry. Snacks abound, and extremely cheap! I think this pretzel thing was like $1 USD.

It was drizzly when we arrived but we had umbrellas and there was no way a little rain was going to hold us back after being in a million airports, planes, and a car for 4 hours that day. If I had to recap our stay in Sibiu, it would be that we literally just strolled about with no major plans, just taking it all in. Our first taste of Romania! I kept saying, “WE ARE IN ROMANIA” to which Henry would say, “Yes, I know.” But at least he wasn’t using his annoying dad tone. I could actually tell that he was excited to be here too and even though we were incredibly exhausted and jet-lagged, we had a really great first day. (If you ignore the fact that I changed out of a skirt into jeans in the parked car because it was raining and at least 15 degrees colder than it was when we left sunny Bucharest, and in doing so, I tweaked my back GOOD. So I spent the whole first day saying things like, “Oh look at that building—OW MY BACK.”)

(Oh, don’t worry – there would be other afflictions as the trip progressed, lol.)

Dude, Romanians LOVE gelato. There were at least 5 different gelato stands in the plaza outside of our guest house. It was insane.

Dude. 👀👀👀👀👀👀

Piata Mare (Big Square) is home to restaurants and the Roman Catholic Parish Church.

We would eat dinner at one of these places later that evening!

We paid a small fee to go to the top of the Council Tower after getting scammed by a man selling magnets for 5 LEI more than another souvenir in another square, which made Henry lecture me about my kneejerk purchases. Can it, Hank.

The lady in the admission booth was on the phone and  I felt like we were interrupting something important, being pesty tourists. Turns out, this would just be the general feeling as we went through the country, lol!

There were rooms along the tower with local artisan wares for sale.

At the top of the tower, there was one other couple but they left soon after we barged in like big clunky Americunts. It was really nice having this space all to ourselves knowing how crowded Sibiu gets during the spring and summer season.

When a city is this (Si)biutiful, not even some raindrops can detract from that. I could have looked out of these windows all damn day.

I don’t want shampoo I used in the hotel in Bucharest but shooooo, did it give me a great hair day! Actually, every day was a great hair day in Romania. I don’t know what was going on over there.

Trying to get the views in the background!

Aerial view of the treacherous steps. Not as scary as the ones in Tallinn, Estonia though!

The Bridge of Lies! Per Wiki because I am lazy:

The Bridge of Lies has many legends surrounding it because of its name. The most popular one has it that the bridge will collapse when someone tells a lie while standing on it.^[1] Another legend says that the bridge was often crossed by merchants who were trying to fool their clients. The ones who were caught were tossed off the bridge. According to another legend, the bridge was a meeting place for boys attending the military academy and their girlfriends. The boys wouldn’t show up, leaving their girlfriends to wait until realizing they have been lied to. One legend also has it that the bridge was often crossed by young lovers who swore each other eternal love. The girls swore that they were virgins, which often turned out to be a lie after the couples got married. As a punishment, they were thrown off the bridge, since it was the place where they had lied to their lovers.^[2] Another legend about the bridge talks about how there may have been a large lake underneath the bridge, in which freshwater mermaids lived. They would lie to their merman husbands to meet their mortal lovers on the bridge above. Then, they would jump off into the lake when finished.

Despite all the legends, its name has a different origin. The bridge was initially called Liegenbrücke, German for lying bridge (lying as in “to lie down”), which sounds very similar to Lügenbrücke, meaning “bridge of lies”. The legends have helped the latter spread among the city’s people, which is how the bridge came to get its current name.

Can I just quickly say that I bought that Vans crossbody mini-bag because it was the perfect size for my vacation journal? That bitchin’ book came with me e v e r y w h e r e, much to Henry’s chagrin. I wrote the ink out of approx. 4 pens in a week, I wish I was exaggerating. Every time we sat down, I was hunched over it, scribbling away. I didn’t want to forget a thing, especially since I knew I wouldn’t be blogging much while there. I am a freak for documenting my life, so sorry if that annoys you. (HENRY.)

Hermannstadt is the German name of Sibiu.

Here, enjoy some more pictures:

I loved the color of this building.

If you ignored the gaggle of cars parked haphazardly all over town, you really did feel like you had stepped back into another time. Obsessed.

This is getting too long so I’ll stop here and come back to tell you about our first taste of traditional food and experiencing a Saturday night mass at one of the churches, by chance. I told Henry it was my favorite part of our time in Sibiu and he mumbled, “It wasn’t mine.” Wow, heathen.

As usual, we had to split Chooch’s move-in across two weekends because it’s just us trying to move his shit in a Kona. You’re not allowed to bring a U-Haul and we don’t have anyone to ask to help so…two trips it is.

Henry had the bright idea of “taking the slow and leisurely way” and stopping in Lancaster on the way. First of all, he still took the turnpike, so I don’t know what the point was of “slow and leisurely.” Everything was fine until we got to Lancaster. We were having a fine morning in the car, listening to the Kpop playlist I made for Lyda, railing against MAGA, talking about G-Dragon. You know, the usual things that parents of a college student talk about it in the car on their way to bring their kid the rest of his underwear, his pillow that he apparently forgot, and other sundry that will probably never be unpacked. (Although, the iced coffee maker did make it out immediately and he was practically hugging it. Priorities.)

Usually, our go-to is Dutch Haven for shoo-fly pie, but I have been following this new-ish place called Lancaster Beignet Co (so much effort went into this naming convention that I am over here mopping my brow just thinking of the exertion) on Instagram since they opened in 2022. We have actually dipped into Lancaster numerous times since then but I always forget about it. This time though, I said it out loud and not just in my head, and that’s all it takes to solidify itineraries around these parts.

We arrived around 11:30, having made pretty good time on the road. With the exception of the times we went to Lancaster for concerts at the Chameleon Club, we have never actually been DOWNTOWN Lancaster. We always just go to the Amish-y outskirts, the weirdly-named towns like INTERCOURSE and BIRD-IN-HAND, you know, those areas.

“Didn’t we go to a quilt shop here once with Jessy?” Henry asked, and I said, “Maybe, but I probably was trying to smother myself with one of the quilts and blacked that memory out.” I loved Jessy but man – we could not be ANY DIFFERENT, lol.

Anyway. We made it and it was just crowded enough to make me annoyed. It was also really small inside with very little seating and the people working there were like cardboard. Not TO BE A KAREN but to me, personality matters. The way someone interacts with me at a cafe or a restaurant is sometimes more memorable than the product. And these people were just like, potatoes. Just stood there blankly until I nudged Henry to order because I think he was waiting for them to initiate the transaction and that was clearly not going to happen.

We got an order of three beignet (the smallest order) and then sat on some glorified balcony overlooking the sidewalk and main street. Henry was mad because the guy sitting at the table next to us refused to scoot his chair in. I don’t know if these were locals or LANCASTER LOLLYGAGGERS but I got an annoying vibe from everyone in general.

And then the beignet were just mid.

Also, pro tip: don’t eat beignet around Henry if you don’t want to be:

• embarrassed
• sprayed with powdered sugar

I had to ask him in a not-nice tone to please CALM DOWN and not eat like a medieval thug tearing into a turkey leg.

I don’t know why I get like this, but this mediocre experience set the tone for the next hour and my emotions went into a free-fall. The prominent feeling was one of pouty annoyance, I would say.

Also, it could be possible that I just really care for beignet? But I was super pissed that I chose  this over shoo-fly pie, that is FOR FUCKING SURE.

But then! While we were sitting on the fake balcony, I spotted a cafe across the street and was glad that we didn’t get drinks at this dumb beignet place because now we had a reason to go here instead and it was A DELIGHT. Like, as soon as we crossed the threshold, a bro behind the counter welcomed us happily and it was so genuine, like he could not WAIT to get a refreshing drink started for us. I was charmed by his enthusiasm and immediately ordered an iced blackberry matcha, which was the seasonal spesh.

But then I got annoyed again because Henry came lumbering over to the counter, all indecisive (he can’t just admit that he doesn’t like coffee). There was a wheel of Pokemon and other Japanese cartoon-inspired drinks so I egged him on to spin it. He fucking spun the wheel right off the pedestal and it went careening down the counter. Ugh, he has to manhandle everything, I swear! He eventually reassembled it and spun it with less toxic masculinity the second time around and ended up getting something that I can’t even remember now. Caramel and something latte BUT HE HATES ESPRESSO.

He was nursing that motherfucker for HOURS.

Also, this was a CBD-inspired cafe so they asked us if we wanted any CBD in our drinks. I said “no” like a normal human, but Henry practically had his fingers on his NARC NARC NARC speed dial button.

My matcha was fantastic.

I had to send this  to Chooch because we have this thing where we accuse Henry of “looking” every time we pass an adult store.

Also, we never knew that there was a market house thingie in Lancaster?? We went in but it was pretty crowded and I got overwhelmed very quickly, also these places are annoying because Henry “just likes to look” and never buys anything ALSO it was adding to my beignet regrets (beigrets?) because there were tons of more appealing treats on display here! U G H. Those fucking beignets. I’m unfollowing their Instagram account. I won’t be fooled again.

Then we left and got in a fight because I wanted to go to some shop but Henry was like THE SIDEWALK IS CLOSED, THEY ARE DOING CONSTRUCTION but you could still access the shop?? So I pointed that out all huffily and he was like “OK then let’s cross the street” but I was too busy storming off and pretending to not hear him calling out, “Hey! Don’t you want to go this store? Hello?”

UM YES I DID BEFORE YOU RUINED  MY LIFE BY MANSPLAINING HOW SIDEWALKS WORK.

So we walked back to the car and he was like THAT’S IT WE ARE LEAVING AND DRIVING STRAIGHT TO PHILLY and I was like FINE GO FUCK YOURSELF ON THE WAY and then he was like PLEASE JUST LET’S GO WALK BACK DOWN THERE SO YOU CAN GO TO THAT SHOP and he was basically crying about it so I said FINE but then we went to a different store instead and it was dumb and I got boxed into a corner by the three very tall men and a middle aged couple who were chatting up the clerk and refused to fucking move. I couldn’t handle it so I fled.

I was about to write off down Lancaster after that but after we got back to the car and barely drove a block on our way our, WE SAW A SWEDISH CANDY STORE. So Henry drove in a large loop back to where we had originally parked so we could walk back to the candy store and my mood was 100% improved.

I already liked salty licorice before our Coaster Crew Norden trip, but being there and eating FRESH, AUTHENTIC SALTY LICORICE changed me. I mean, it at least changed my palate I’ll tell you that much. Sadly, the salty licorice I liked the most was salmiakki from Finland so none of that was to be found at this shop.

They did have this gourmet candied licorice that we actually did buy in Denmark and Sweden but it didn’t taste as luxurious here. I guess it loses something in the import process, but also the kind we had bought over there was a big splurge – it was the “slow crafted” variety which cost more but was SO WORTH IT. I still have the glass jar because it has MEMORIES attached to it now.

Henry got his own bag because he didn’t want his candy rubbing up against my salty licorice hahaha. Also, those Geisha candies are delicious chocolates from this company called Fazer. They had cafes and shops in Finland and we stopped there several times. I had amazing salmiakki ice cream at one on our last night in Helsinki, and we waked to a nearby Fazer cafe every morning we were there and they gave me chocolate with my coffee. I was obsessed and miss that place so much. So, all this did was make me super nostalgic and SICK because I literally ate half the bag on the drive home that night and proceeded to moan and groan in agony like any other outcome was ever an option??

We got Chooch his own bucket of candies too. <3

Then it was Dutch Haven time! A very tall man practically chased me down to and me a plate of two tiny one-bite shoo-fly pie samples, much appreciated. It is the BEST place to get shoo-fly pie. Not that I have had it from very many other places, but I trust Dutch Haven.

Uncle Idiot and his product.

(Can you believe he didn’t buy a bag????) Don’t worry, he got a soft pretzel – just one for him, didn’t even ask me if I wanted one too, so this started another fight after we got back in the car hahaha. Hoo boy was I little bitchin’ Sybil on this day. (Everyday.)

Henry ruined this picture.

(I really thought this sign was coded, like all the red letters spell something on their own but then I lost interest trying to pull EXCEPT MAGA out of it.)

We also bought a full shoo-fly pie for Chooch and his roommates. More on the Philly portion of the day later!

I need to memorialize this because ISTG, every time we are on our way home from eastern PA/NY, we can never find anywhere to stop and eat that is open or has veg options. But I found this Parisian-themed creperie in a small town called Hollidaysburg and it had an acai bowl in addition to a wide array of other vegetarian fare, so…that’s where we went. Whether Henry liked it or not.

I loved the vibe of this joint! Modern goth soundtracked by quirky and traditional Parisian tunes.

I felt rushed taking this picture because Idiot Henry was behind me.

I mean, come on, you guys. This place was so cool and such an ERK-approved vibe.

There’s also an outdoor patio which is where everyone else was sitting but  can I just say that I am crying UNCLE on allowing the summer sun to beat down on me? Our coaster roadtrip really took a toll on me and as such, I was happy to sit in the desolate upstairs dining room, alone and in the A/C.

Henry said the restroom was “basic” but I thought it was whimsical and charming.

AND THIS NUTELLA ACAI BOWL! It was exactly what I was craving. It is so easy to eat like shit when you’re on the road but this felt equal parts nutritious and decadent. Henry had a veggie crepe and that was also delicious! It was honestly tough to choose between this bowl and something savory for sure, but I also wanted something cold.

We had a really nice lunch, dissecting the Enhypen concert and me basically reminding Henry every two seconds that he is annoying and him mistaking it for FLIRTING.

Having been in the car all day, I had almost no steps and suggested that we take a post-lunch constitutional walk. I had never been to Hollidaysburg before, that I know of anyway, and wanted to scope it out.

I approved of this quaint alley.

I made Henry walk all the way to an intersection because I saw what appeared to be a small bridge which indicated that there may be WATER beneath it. It took us entirely too long to cross the street because Hollidaysburg hates pedestrians, it seems, only to find that it was just a dinky creek. Lol.

Aside from the one section where I almost died from a stench that was either HOBO BODY ODOR or MEAT, we had a nice little stroll. Hopefully this place still exists the next time we’re in yhe vicinity looking for non-gas station food.

As already detailed in my last post (IF YOU SUBSCRIBED, YOU’D KNOW), we went to Butler specifically so I could pay tribute to my old priest, but prior to that, we had lunch at a brewery in the nearby town of Renfrew. We almost didn’t do any of that though because first we went to some antique shop in Butler and I was in a foul mood right off the bat because it wasn’t true antiques but more like an offline Etsy with crap I would never buy. For example, license plate art that said LET’S GO BRANDON. I got so angry about this that I didn’t even bother with the rest of the shop, just started yapping about how I would never support a shop that sold objects of political harassment, thank u next.

Then we were going to go to this museum that was originally on the agenda when we first planned to go up to that area on a Saturday, but COME TO FIND OUT (hate that phrase but here I am feeling hateful) that it’s closed on Sundays. I was in a mood by then and said, “let’s just go home, I don’t care anymore.” Classic Erin.

Chapter 1 Erin, even.

After pouting for a bit and allowing Henry to drive past the place where we were going to eat lunch, I finally said FINE and let him turn around. Good thing, too, because we had a really nice time!

Missing Links Brewery, obviously. We split the “pizza of the day” which was some kind of fungi party on a pizza. It was really good and the perfect size.

I am in so deep on this Johnnie Guilbert (I ALMOST TYPED CRAIG) kick. Even Henry likes him, so there.

I haven’t missed my scene kid days much over these last several years but this has made me absolutely ache for it. 2007-2016 Warped Tours were so sick. The last two were mid but still glad that they happened. We did not get tickets for this year’s Warped revival because I didn’t like that it wasn’t a full summer tour across the country. It just feels like they’re trying to compete with the other “one weekend / one city” festivals out there and I’m not here for that. I want old Warped Tour, not to have to travel to either DC, Long Beach, or Orlando. (Although…Orlando is tempting.)

HOWEVER. I do have a bit of regertz because Johnnie Guilbert is performing at this year’s Warped Tour, but only the Long Beach & Orlando ones.

(You guys, I got it so bad. I told Henry the other day, “Ugh I think I’m obsessed” and he was like “No shit.”)

Um…anyway. We had pizza and flights!

I am definitely an American IPA bitch.

I liked all of the beers that I had in my flight! One was a pineapple jalapeno wheat that was delightful, made me wish I was sitting on a patio with the gals chirping about….Bridgerton? Real Housewives of an Undisclosed Location? Look, I don’t know what gals chirp about. I don’t have any friends, remember? lol.

(Babe, wake up – she’s self-deprecating again!)

I also want to add that we had a wonderful server who reminded me of my therapist sort of and I love my therapist, and Henry was like, “YOU KNOW WHAT, DADDY’S GON’ TREAT HIMSELF” and got the “beer”amisu which was JUST MADE and he got the first slice. It was delectable.

Then we walked off pizza and beer at the aforementioned cemetery.

Afterward, I wanted coffee so we stopped at a cafe next to this salon and Henry thought he was so funny by saying it was a salon for me so I had to remind him that we LITERALLY just visited the grave of my dead priest?!!!

(No j/k I am a total big-boned heathen over here.)

Hilltop Cafe was very cute, but my maple iced coffee was very watery. Henry’s pistachio cold brew was decent though so I stole it.

There were two (real) antique/junk stores right up the street. The first one was one small room and full of very strange old men and vintage porn. There was this large clown photograph that was REALLY speaking to me but Henry made me question life with one twerk of his moustache as usual.

We were about to leave when Henry pointed out the pinball backglass hanging on the wall. It was for a game called Blackout and I really wanted it. But we decided to go next door to the other antique store first.

That one was much larger and felt more like a legit antique shop. There was an old gumball machine (stand included!) that I wanted to get because that’s been on my list for a few years. But for some reason, I ENDED UP GETTING NOTHING. Not the pinball glass, nary a clown pic, neither a gumball machine. I don’t know what I was thinking.

I hated this wall so much. So much so that I had to send a picture of it to Chooch to ruin his day as well.

Literal junk resided in the back room and I felt like I was hiding from Leatherface back there.

The best part of this place was when some older man actually EXCLAIMED, “Oh! I have been looking for one of these for years!!!!” and when I turned to look, he was EMBRACING some kind of taxidermied….rabbit? I don’t know what it was but the juxtaposition of this preserved animal corpse being hugged by a man who looked like he drove a pick-up and loves root beer in frosted glass bottles was so cutely funny to me??

“….it’s your lucky day,” I said in my fake high-pitched, “Look at me functioning in society” lilt. We saw him a few other times throughout the store and he was still hugging the rabbit (OMG WAIT WAS IT A JACKALOPE MAYBE??) protectively against his broad farmer chest.

Ugh, honestly though I know how great it feels to find your personal treasure in an antique store though, I get it, brother!

Then we listened to Johnnie Guilbert the whole way home.

After the highway museum (which I’m still so geeked about, to be quite honest – PIE AND POSTCARDS. ‘Nuff said), we drove a few minutes away for lunch at Unity Brewing in Latrobe.

Right off the bat, the Crosby art was giving good vibes.

I got a:

• LEMON CREME COOKIE something. I don’t know what kind of beer it was – a wheat maybe? Whatever it was, it was my favorite. Subtle lemony sweetness without tasting like Pine-sol!
• Another Dimension IPA – just a solid, refreshing IPA that I liked very much
• Peach Ring Sour – remember when we went to that brewery in Youngstown last month and I was like, “I guess I don’t like sours after all?” Nope, wrong, scratch that. This was my redemption sour. It was SO DELICIOUS and fun.
• Vanilla Bean Blonde – apparently this is touted as the “undisputed pub favorite” and I can see why! It was so nice.

I legit loved everything. If I wasn’t a lightweight, I’d have probably gone back to the bar and asked for a full pour of….the lemon creme, I think. Any of them really!

Henry got the Maibock (a German spring lager), the Here’s the Dill! Pickle sour (LOVED THIS, so refreshing! I could have probably had a full pour of this if we were sitting outside with friends or something), the River Goat! West Coast IPA (decent) and….the Willie’s Reserve which I ordered for him and since I have bad eyesight I couldn’t see the smaller words on the menu which said that it was cannabis inspired. Hoo boy, was it ever. Henry and I aren’t like, NARCs or anything but we are both pretty averse to pot – I can’t stand the smell of it and haven’t smoked it since probably my late teens/early 20s because I have so many mental problems that it has the complete opposite affect on me and it AIN’T A GOOD ONE. So this was not our fave. You could smell the skunkiness without even holding it up to your nose.

MY FAULT though – I would not have  told him to get that if my eyes worked better, lol.

We were seriously having such a great time here, I can’t explain it (don’t worry, it was the calm before the storm, lol).

I had whatever “sweet flats” is – OK, I’ll tell you what it is: roasted rounds of sweet potatoes topped with black bean, corn, and two dollops of goat cheese. It was exceptional!! Filling without making me feel like sick, we love to see it.

Chooch called Heny’s phone when Henry was at the bar ordering our food, so I answered and without even letting me say hello, Chooch immediately demanded, “Dunkin.” That’s the only time he ever calls Henry, when he wants him to order (a/k/a “pay for”) his Dunkin lol.

Anyway, I was like, “Wow, hello, we’re at lunch.”

“With who?” he asked.

“No one…just us.”

“WOW. I didn’t know you people did that,” Chooch said, mind blown that his parents do date-like activities together I guess.

The post-lunch plan was to go down the street a bit to Ligonier so we could walk around and not have to be in the car for 60+ minutes after eating lunch. First, we used the gross “outside, needs a key” restroom at the local GetGo gas station. I liked my outfit that day so I took this picture but I did not feel cute that day at all, to be fully transparent. I am in a very low, low, low self-esteem cycle currently.

We took these dumb pictures of each other. Chooch said we were “Wow so cool” when I sent them to him later haha.

Anyway, Ligonier just pissed me off. I hated everyone there, it wasn’t my vibe, I rejected every store we passed, I got outrageously babyish at a cafe over a chai latte that was made with whole milk because I forgot to ask for almond milk and declined their offer to remake it and said, “No this is fine” in a monotone because at that point I was trying to be difficult while pretending like LOOK HOW EASY I AM BEING. As soon as we walked out, I thrust the latte at Henry and said IT’S ALL YOURS and he was like, “?????” because now he was double-fisting iced lattes. I don’t know, I was feeling uncomfortable in my skin, it was kind of hot out but I refused to take off my sweater because I didn’t want to show my arms, Henry was NOT LISTENING TO ME AS USUAL. It was a perfect storm. The last time we were in Ligonier together was before Chooch was born it was also a really bad day. Henry has declared a travel ban on Ligonier and I can’t say I’m going to argue with him on that one.

We drove home (in a big traffic jam) in silence, me listening to Johnnie Guilbert and scowling out the window while also silently crying and wanting to die. It gets easier until it doesn’t. I just don’t know. The day was so great and then….that. Can’t even blame it on hanger because it was after lunch. Luckily, once we got home everything was fine. I exercised. Ate dinner. It was a normal Saturday night.

Grow up, Erin.

(Henry tried to blame it on me revisiting my emo roots but I have been this bad if not worse for over a year now, not to mention since I was born. So.)

You guys will never believe this but while we were on the way to the brewery last Saturday, we drove past the Butler Institute of American Art and I caught a sign that said FREE ADMISSION. So, while we were at lunch, I suggested that we stop there before driving home since we had been drinking, so that we could sober up, etc.

(This makes it sound like we were blitzed but we really weren’t. It’s just that it was over an hour drive home and who wants to be in the car that long after eating and drinking?)

Meanwhile, Mrs. It’s Not That We Were Drunk said, “Take a picture of me with this bitch” and then as I was backing up to get closer, I didn’t notice that there was a small step, so I tripped BACKWARD and landed right on my butt in front of “this bitch.”

The perfect display of “I meant to that do.”

Henry hardly EVER laughs at anything I do or say but this got a BIG BELLY LAUGH from the old man.

I used to smoke those 

Dude don’t worry. We truly weren’t THOSE PEOPLE inside the museum. I promise. We were quiet, normal, and respectful. Henry even asked one of the docents a question. OK, it was just “Where is the restroom?” but then later he asked another one a real question about whether or not the paintings in the section we were in had been restored at all. The docent was like, “Well….some of them have, yeah. Like this one for example—-” and then pointed to the one we were standing near and we were like, “OK cool good to know” but then he continued standing there, staring at it dreamily long after we turned a corner. It was kind of creepy but also made me think to myself: “Aw.”

Anyway, it was crazy actually looking at art with Henry???!!! We never do stuff like this together! He hates the Mattress Factory, for example, although that is a totally different beast, to be fair.

They should put this outside in front of that bitch.

OMG obviously I loved this wing of the museum the most.

Figuring out how to install this in our living room.

Speaking of Mattress Factory, though, Yayoi Kusama has a permanent exhibit there (the infamous mannequin room!).

There were hardly any other art-peepers there that afternoon, so we really enjoyed the quiet and time we got to spend in each wing.

There’s one of these in the Mattress Factory too and I do not get it.

I loved this part of the museum because we had to walk across a pedestrian bridge to A CHURCH. I guess the actual church part is still used for you know, church things, but there were more exhibits upstairs. This room was a loft that overlooked the church below and I was obsessed!

Yes!!

I was so excited to see this! I have something similar-ish from my Pappap’s house!!!

We were in a race against the clock toward the end there though as an announcement came on warning patrons that the joint was closing in 30 minutes.

“We can come back again, you know,” Henry huffed as I raced past him to see what was in a basement corridor (CLOWN SHIT!!! I ALMOST MISSED IT!). But in the end, we managed to make it through every part of the place and you know what? It was so much fun and Henry actually agreed. AND IT COST NOTHING! What a great way to spend an afternoon. We didn’t even argue!!?

Afterward, we stopped at nearby Pressed Coffee Bar for some after-art caffeine and sugar.

I got a strawberry white chocolate latte and it was alright. The sugar cookie we split was VERY HARD but still good. It was a sugar, after all, and sometimes any sugar is better than no sugar.

We rounded off our random Saturday Day Date with a stroll through some Youngstown cemetery that made me feel uncomfortable but it was fine.

It’s been decided that we will now try to do something like once a month or so. We’ll see how long that lasts, lol.

A big reason why I wasn’t too torn up over that Easter Lane thing being lame is that we had planned a little mini daytrip around it by scoping out some places in nearby Youngstown, Ohio for lunch. We settled on this brewery called Noble Creature because “Viking” was thrown around in descriptions of the vibe and that seemed like something for me. I was really HUNGY (r removed purposely, OK, I learned this from Chooch) by the time we got there but luckily not to HANGRY proportions yet.

I really liked the atmosphere of this joint, even from just the outside!

BIG YES to that welcome disclaimer.

Right off the bat, I felt good here. The bartender was super down to earth and helpful. I’m not trying to act like someone who is knowledgeable about beer and have no qualms being an open n00b about it, and he was patient and happy to answer my questions. (“IS ANYTHING HERE COMPARABLE TO A BELGIAN?” is usually my only inquiry, lol. Sadly, not really but he did steer me toward an ESB called Basement Darts and complimented me on my OLD WORLD tastes hahahaha.

I had no idea what an ESB was (Extra Special Bitter allegedly??) and it was OK. English. I was able to finish my little glass of it but would probably never get it again.

Henry got two tasters of the only IPAs they had and I was pissed because I don’t like ordering the same thing as him, so to finish my flight, I chose a sour called Jelly because I used to like sours way back when I didn’t like beer and I haven’t really been drinking those anymore. I also got a Flemish Red which I thought was going to be like an Irish Red. Nope, not even close. Hated this one so much. So sour, like way sour-er than the actual sour. I never want to even think about this one again.

Lastly, I got my first Gose after mths of asking Henry, “What is a Gose? Do you think I’d like it?” Turns out, nope, no I do not like Gose. Not even when it has a cool name like Mother Shover.

Full disclosure, I have to admit that the only reason I wanted to like it is because Seventeen, one of my favorite Kpop groups AS YOU MIGHT KNOW, have a show called Going Seventeen but it’s shortened to GoSe so I associate that beer with it. Bummed that is not for me.

(Reading about Mother Shover on Untapped now – because why would I do this before ordering – and apparently it has table salt in it too??)

Henry’s IPAs were both really good :(

Basement Darts. Since it was English, it made me think of the band Basement. I used to really like that band!

A really good mushroom and black bean burger! With asparagus! That burger was really good. The portions were on the small side so I was still hungry when we left but it was for the best because usually I get so full that I become sick when I eat out these days.

So-so sour. No, it was fine. I could never drink a full pour of this but let’s be real, there aren’t many beers I could drink a full pour of!

Mother Shover.

Before leaving, we decided to split one of the seltzers, called CASUAL CORSAGE. We were eyeing it up because it was billed as “a purple seltzer with juniper, lemon, elderberry, butterfly pea flower, and honey simple syrup.

ALL THINGS I LOVE.

And before you ask, yes, even butterfly pea flower – I love it when cafes have butterfly pea matcha.

Oh, damn, did I strike out across the board here! It just tasted like sour nothingness! I thought it would be crisp and sparkling?? Semi-sweet?! It was not any of these things. I truly can’t describe it but it did not inspire me to go wading barefoot in a bubbling brook, which is what ALL OF THOSE INGREDIENTS FEEL LIKE THEY WERE MADE TO ACCOMPANY?!

It was a struggle for us to finish this, especially since Henry had to chug the last dregs of my FLEMISH RED, brotha ew is all I can say to that one. It felt like a sinister, ancient and sacred religious ceremony in a candle lit cellar playing out on my tongue. Just…old and scary and like some possessed monk’s liquified sour breath rolling around in my mouth, daring me to swallow it while my gag reflexes where in overdrive.

I know, it sounds like this was a terrible time but I really enjoyed our visit! I chalked it up to a learning experience because I still am figuring out what I like and don’t like, but also it was just really nice to be in a different “city” on a day-date thing while texting Chooch annoying pictures of ourselves.

DON’T WORRY THOUGH BECAUSE OUR DATE DIDN’T END THERE.

The other day in work group chat, one of my co-workers was telling my friend Wendi about something in her part of the world (she lives in a very small town a good hour or so outside of Pittsburgh) called KRAYNAK and said something about it being something that people in her area liked to do for Easter. For some reason, my brain went STRAIGHT to Krampus so I thought this must be the alternate Easter narrative of Volant, PA, the symbol being a rabid bunny or something? It just sounded ominous.

Now, the only reason she was directing to just Wendi is because Wendi has a baby and she was giving her suggestions of things to do, I guess. That chat topic died out quickly but I was over on Google frantically looking up KRAYNAK.

It’s….just a gardening center in Hermitage, PA.

BUT!! They do this thing called EASTER LANE where they have several Easter-themed displays set up and you can, you know, walk down the “lane” to gawk at it. The pictures of past Easter Lanes looked just tacky & accidentally creepy enough to pique my interest. So I texted Henry and said, “We’re going to Kraynak’s this weekend” and he was like “OK.”

Right away, I will say these two things:

• it was an hour and 18 minutes away by car, which was annoying;
• it was right on a busy road in the middle of Hermitage which kind of subtracted from the ambiance, you know? I was expecting it to be tucked away in some rural knoll, actually, I don’t know what I was expecting, but this just immediately felt too commercial.

I immediately turned around to take a picture of the sign and almost got hit by some eager KRAYNAK shopper trying to park in the spot I was standing next to. Sheesh.

People were looking at me, too, with the unspoken inquiry of “why is this lady taking pictures of the sign?” woven into their frowns. I wanted to cry out, “WE’RE FROM THE BIG CITY, OK?” God, stop looking at me.

This place was pretty packed. But, it’s huge. It’s like a weird, stinky amalgamation of some boring ass hobby shop, plant nursery, and….off brand toy store? OK that’s not fair, they did have some name brand stuff but it was just bizarre shit like toys you’d expect to find in the same shop that sells model train accessories.

And random aisles of not-great candy scattered all around. No rhyme or reason. It was just one section after the next of strange FUCK YEAH AMERIKKKA yard ornaments and mini-travel games for kids. And Cow Tails. And these things were at the ends of every aisle, it felt like:

We did grab some stuff for Chooch’s Easter basket because we’re going to visit him next weekend. Then we got in line to creep down the Easter Lane:

I mean…it wasn’t as Sid&Mary Kroft as I’d have liked, but it was cute.

I liked this one because there were squirrels. Those muppet kids tho….

And then the last several exhibits were patriotic and religious. Of-fucking-course. :/

At the very least, they could have had a ghost Jesus floating here?!

After this, we continued to browse for a bit but I gotta tell you, I started to feel more and more uncomfy here. We were 100% in Trump Territory and I started profiling dads as hunters and moms as homophobes and then someone waked past me and either farted or just generally stank of shit and I cried uncle. I lasted a good 30 minutes there though!

My takeaway:

• this was not worth the drive (luckily, I had planned for this and found some other things for us to afterward in that general area so all was not lost)
• maybe it would be better with a kid?
• waaaaaaay too many shrieking babies and I did at one point ‘accidentally’ say out loud that I wanted to punch one of them
• Easter Lane could be better
• the line for pictures with the Easter Bunny was extremely long and the queue serpentined a few times, but the Easter Bunny himself was mid if you ask me. I am very picky when it comes to photogenic Easter Bunnies

I MIGHT (MIGHT!!!) be convinced to go back in December to check out the CHRISTMAS LANE. Tbd.

Henry, first thing this morning in the hotel: Are you watching the videos you took from last night?

Me: ofc

——

Roadtrip food interlude! I would remiss to not give the vegetarian restaurant we ate at this morning a shout-out in its own post. Henry found this place when he was looking for nearby H-Marts in the Detroit area (we are still trying to build up a k-beer stock for Chingumas, so annoying like a treasure hunt).

Even the name – Spacecat V-stro – is fun!

Full transparency, I originally found myself hovering above the DANGER ZONE which is where I am hyper-focusing on stupid shit – did I gain weight, do I look ugly, should I start a fight, should I punish myself? Why am I like this. I came so close to being like, “just forget the original plan, let’s just go home.”

But I fought with myself quietly behind the scenes (i.e. in my head) and just kept my big mouth shut so that we could just for once have a good morning. I know I’m difficult. I can’t always control it but if I can, I will. OK?? Leave me alone.

Spacecat can be found on a really cool, Pride flag-prominent street in Ferndale, also in good company with cozy-looking bars that probably have beers I can actually enjoy unlike Harry’s, indie gift shops, and a plant store that I would have popped into if it was open.

We also had a pleasant encounter on the sidewalk with a doctor (HE WAS WEARING A DOCTOR COAT; maybe he was a doctor for Halloween and really grew attached to the jacket but I really feel like he was a legit doctor guys, so stop asking me questions about it) regarding the hours of street parking while Henry was trying to download the parking app. I tried to point out that it said right on the parking kiosk that parking was 11am-12am or something but no one listened to me and it was just like the time Henry and I went to this haunted adventure trail where we ended up losing because Henry and some other cis white male ignored me and my correct solutions to the quests but it’s not like that happened in 2003 and I still dwell on it 21 years later because that wouldn’t be like me at all.

Anyway, it was 8:45am when we eventually went inside while Henry was still fussing with the parking app. There was only one person there – presumably the owner – and she greeted us so casually yet warmly as though expecting us, and I immediately knew it was going to be a good experience.

She told us to have a seat anywhere and then asked with a friendly eye brow raise, “You ready for some coffee?”

BET.

Most of the artwork was CATS. Fully my style. And the soundtrack was a great retro punk mix.

When the Spacecat lady came over with coffee and menus, she noticed Henry struggling with the parking app and said, “oh you don’t need to worry about that until 11!”

Mmmmmmm. YA DONT SAY, HENRY.

Now, about that menu! It’s almost predominately vegan but they DO bill themselves as a vegetarian restaurant because some of the things do have eggs/dairy. Others are naturally vegan, and then the rest have the option to swap out dairy cheese with vegan cheese.

I like their transparency!

I also like that all of their protein is made in-house, so no Impossible or Beyond products being used there. I appreciated this because I feel like it’s a cop-out to just add some toppings to an Impossible patty and then charge $20. Granted, I think Impossible burgers are delicious but I almost never order them while out because they kill my stomach and make me feel overstuffed.

Even the chik’n here was housemade with tofu, similar to how Zenith makes their tofishy sandwiches. I came so close to getting one of the chicken sandwiches (yes, it was 9am but who cares) but ultimately Henry ordered the chk’n and waffles so I just stole some off his plate – it was DIVINE. Henry, an avid disliker of tofu, fully approved of how the tofu had transformed into fried chicken.

And as for me, I was torn between several items on the brunch menu and the weekly grilled cheese special, but ultimately asked our Spacecat tour guide what their favorite of the two veggie burgers was. She steered me toward the Red Dwarf because it has “more going on” as opposed to the other burger option which was a more traditional patty melt. I also opted for the vegan cheese.

It was HEAVENLY. SPACEY even. The party was made from beets (and quinoa I think) and carrot “bacon” and the most deliciously tangy homemade sauce. I got it with a side of warm garlic kale and I could not have been more satisfied. It left me feeling full but not gross and bloated.

This food is made with love (they’re actually closed on Mondays and Tuesdays to make all of the food for the week) and even though it was nutritious, it still had that “restaurant cheat meal” edge to it.

Even Henry was raving about how much he enjoyed it.

And again, while I would have given this place a solid thumbs up regardless, the way the owner (?) was so down to earth and genuinely interested in where we were from, what brought us to Detroit, what the veg scene is like in Pgh – it just made it so much more memorable. I’m sure we will be back at some point to visit Jessi and Bill and when that happens, I am making them go there with us!

This just really set the tone for the day, in the most positive way possible. Literally the rest of the day – hunting for Korean beer at HMart, stopping at Biggby for coffee, and just being in the car together as we made our way back home – was so enjoyable and pleasant. No complaints. I can’t say that every often!

I didn’t feel like liveblogging and also Henry and I were listening to an audiobook like the lamest empty nesters who ever emptied their nest BUT we just stopped for lunch at a cute vegan spot called ROOTED VEGAN in a small Indiana town called ANGOLA. Props to me for finding it – Henry continues to do fuck all on the food finding front.

Ok first of all, the woman behind the counter was friendly and patient while Henry squinted at the menu behind her and bristled his moustache like it’s a facial Magic 8 Ball ready to choose his food for him.

I got the bakn chikn wrap and Henry got the Nashville chikn wrap – I fucking BEASTED mine. It was just what I wanted and now I’m full but not painfully so, and will probably be able to skip dinner so yay for that because I always panic about eating before a concert!!

We also got a lemon crinkle cookie and a chocolate cookie sandwich straight PUMPED with pumpkin frosting. Hoooooboy it was rich and decadent and that nearly pushed me over the edge but then we went for a stroll around the cutie courtyard/square area before getting back in the car so that helped.

Dude, that car/truck thing.

This place was so cutie!

After I took this picture of Sojouner Truth, some young guy in a BURNT UMBER hoodie and disheveled ginger hair stopped by and said, “That guy was a pedo.” He was pointing to another statue, and I felt like I needed to take a picture of it so as I walked over, he followed me and said, “Yeah he was gay but it was the 1800s so he couldn’t really do anything about it you know.”

I said something along the lines of “ya don’t say” but like, less 1950s and more modern times.

The Angola Pedo.

Then he continued along his way, stopping at each business and handing out a paper of unknown subject matter.

“Wow, I basically got a tour,” I said and Henry laughed REALLY HARD which disgusted me because it wasn’t funny at all.

IT’S BEEN REAL, ANGOLA.

P.S. I just went back and looked at that statue and that dude died in 1790-something so that guy gave me FAKE NEWS.

Can you tell that I am desperado to pack in as much as possible before Chooch leaves for college? I really hate how the vibe of the summer shifted so harshly and how I spent so much of it being emotionally catatonic. I am trying, you guys.

Last weekend, we did a small day trip to Huntingdon, WV to collect the whopping 3 coaster creds at Camden Park. We had tossed around the idea of going here for the past several years but honestly, it is so out of the way and (sorry locals) not really worth the trip unless you’re on the way somewhere better. But in this case, we were looking for something that we could knock out in less than a day, and Camden Park finally fit the bill.

We knew that this park was going to be kind of a dump (SORRY AGAIN LOCALS) but I honestly didn’t care and was stoked to see the infamous clown signage in person finally. You know I love me some clown shit. This didn’t disappoint!

We were there on a hot ass Saturday in August. Probably every other amusement park in America was poppin’ off but Camden Park was…meandering.

My IMMEDIATE first impression was that it was like Conneaut Park in PA (RIP) but make it a bit livelier (and you know, open). There really wasn’t much to write home about aesthetically or anything, but we knew this going in. Somehow the vibes were actually worse than I expected though. Not to say we had a terrible time, but it felt strange being there. We are not what you would consider cosmopolitan or uppity people by any stretch of the imagination, and I am not trying to be stereotypin’ the peeps here, but let’s just say we definitely stood out as interloping city folk.

Henry must have been feeling at home though because he was nicer than I have EVER witnessed him being to staff and ride ops. It was NUTS. “YOU HAVE A NICE DAY!” he kept shouting at everyone and it was very disconcerting, like we had been sent to a different dimension and Henry was over-acting some weird version of himself without fear of consequence. I can’t explain it but it was on par with how jarring it was to hear him say, “YOU AS WELL” in response (OK I typed “respondence” at first, I need to be put on the Billy Madison track) to cashiers, etc. telling him to have a good day.

I was really excited to ride this and expected to leave with spine damage, but holy shit it was good! I mean, not worth going out of your way for unless you’re a thoosie or someone who keeps a spreadsheet of coaster credits, and it is janky AF to be honest. But there was an intense of pop of airtime after the first drop that was completely unexpected, and I felt like I was going to be catapulted out of my seat. It made me scream and laugh my face off. Those are elements of a good and memorable coaster experience, if you ask me.

The ride ops were exactly what you’d expect from a park of this ilk – basically the maintenance crew, honestly. Which isn’t a bad thing but holy shit, the grizzliness was in full effect here. Basically, throw down some carnival rides but make it permanent and keep the carnies on staff. They released the lap bars with no announcement (at least, none that I heard!) so the bar slammed down HARD on my wrists. I was being v. vocal about the pain I was in but Chooch accused me of exaggerating. I was not! That lap bar was heavy!

Don’t worry, I didn’t sue or anything. BUT 10-YEAR-OLD ERIN PROBABLY WOULD HAVE TRIED TO.

Camden Park also has a dark ride with a very original name. HAUNTED HOUSE. You don’t say.

Haunted House selfie. LOL my unruly gray hairs.

This guy was like if Jonny Craig had joined the carnival junket instead of pursuing music.

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Anyway, I liked it just fine but it also seemed very short? I feel like it was definitely shorter than, say, The Whacky Shack at Waldameer and maybe even the Devil’s Den from the aforementioned Conneaut.

I was so pissed that this FAFSA billboard was haunting us while we were trying to enjoy a leisurely jaunt on the rickety carousel. (Henry had some weird rapport going on with the elderly operator, btw. He was yukking it up with so many blue collareds on this day, you guys. Maybe Henry will move to Huntingdon when he retires. Or maybe he can just move there now and join the Camden maintenance crew?!

I just want to remember that we got along the whole time we were here – which, in all fairness, was only about 2 hours, lol. But if you knew my state of mind not even just over these last few months but really for almost the whole last year, you would know that getting through an afternoon together as a family without me flipping my already unhinged lid…well, it’s an accomplishment to remember.

Wow, two carouselfie versions to choose from for the wall. I made Henry move up to a different horse and take a new shot because I wanted my mint horse to be in it. God, I make such a simple, benign tradition into such a miserable process sometimes haha. (Chooch’s voice is echoing into the void: “you mean ‘always.'”)

This is that Hipstamatic filter that essentially puts age spots on skin. I need to stop using this on pictures of people lol. Anyway, this was in line for the Whip, which was also being operated by an effervescent elder.

EW WHY IS MY TOOTH CAUGHT ON MY LIP. Jesus Christ, maybe I’m the one who should retire to Huntingdon.

This amount of pictures of the Whip is uncalled for, really.

I loved this old man operator so much that I had to walk back around and get him in a picture. This place was something else.

Get a load of this sketchy-ass sky ride. That’s a no for me, Paula.

The Little Dipper was actually pretty fun for a baby coaster! The ride attendant didn’t even check our restraints LOL.

We were the first people in line and I was all set to get the last row but one of the kids behind us asked, “Are you going to take the backseat?” and I said, “Maybe, why? Do you want it?” AND WHAT THE HELL CAME OVER ME, I ACTUALLY GAVE THESE KIDS THE BACK SEAT. We took the front row so it wasn’t all that bad. I’m just really scared that I did something nice for a child.

I have looked like hell all year. My hair doesn’t even grow anymore. Anyway, this was on the Tilt a Whirl.

Conversely, I didn’t want the front row on this one but there was a group of tween girls behind us and I didn’t like how they were acting – I can picture them being bullies in the halls of some shitty West Virginia middle school and that didn’t sit well with me so when I heard them going on and on about wanting the front row, I abandoned my dreams of being a back row bitch and ran to claim the front row out from under their snobby little noses.

Then before we left, I bought some swag in the gift shop which actually offered way better merch than a park of this caliber had ANY right to. I got a shirt, a magnet, a coffee cup, and a shot glass with a clown inside of it. I also could have bought a Camden Park photo album to hold all of our precious photographical memories from the day but apathy took over and I put it back on the shelf.

And yeah, that concludes our day trip to Camden Park, where Henry turned into a local yokel and we made it out without tetanus or a fentanyl addiction. Bleak, sorry.