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.

We spent the day in southern (?) West Virginia yesterday. I think it was southern. I don’t feel like looking at a map but I think we were at the bottom-ish of the state in Huntington. The main….attraction? was Camden Park which I’ll recap later in its own post, but afterward we had a late lunch (linner, really) at a nearby fastfood joint called Frostop. I saw it on Roadside America last week when I was scoping out the area around Camden Park and this was on there all thanks to the large, rotating mug of root beer that sits atop the snack shack like a crowned jewel of fastfood royalty.

I also saw that they have grilled cheese on the menu so it was a must-do at that point. Plus, I like root beer just fine.

Because I’m a fucking doof, I always search YouTube for videos on places that we are going to visit so I thought outloud, “I wonder if anyone made any Frostop videos?” Oh Erin, babe. Honey bunny with the half brain. Of course people have made videos about visiting Frostop. This is 21st century America. We the people have nothing better to do and there is an audience for anything. So, I found a video filmed last year and in that video, the girl working there that was being “interviewed” (ACTUALLY MIGHT HAVE BEEN OUR SERVER FROM YESTERDAY) said that the mug was not currently spinning because of some mechanical issue that was being looked at. So, that was a concern we had! I ONLY WANTED TO GO TO THIS PLACE TO SEE THE SPINNING ROOT BEER MUG! I WAS PROMISED A SPINNING ROOT BEER MUG!

As we drove down the road closer to its location, Henry spotted the mug on the horizon and HOLLERED, “It’s spinning!!!” I mean, great, but let’s not shout about it!?

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I guess Frostop is actually a brand of root beer and other “grandpa’s favorite” adjacent bevvies. For instance, I am 100% certain if I texted my dad right now and asked if he knows what Frostop is, he will fire back with an entire history of the brand alongside a picture of one of his pop machines with a row of Frostop for the taking. My dad LOVES pop, especially old-fashioned types.

But Frostop also has several “Drive-ins” in certain states, and the one in Huntington happens to be the closest one to us here in Pittsburgh so I really felt like we needed to stop here (even though Hillbilly Hot Dogs several miles away looked waaaaay cooler and actually veg options?!).

First impression: the girl who was working there yesterday was very friendly and personable and determined immediately that we were city folk who needed extra guidance. She explained that we could either stay in our car for CAR SERVICE (I didn’t realize this was a legit “drive-in”!) or we could sit at one of the umbrella’d tables and she’d be with us in a minute.

Second first impression: I LOVED THE AMBIANCE. Brown and cream is so ugly together but somehow it just works in these types of situations.

So honestly, this place could have had shitty food and I would still have enjoyed my time there. It was just my style. Add it to the list with Pal’s Sudden Service and Mr. Happy’s. 

And Mama Steve’s and Mr. Pancake.

The expressions.

I would like to note that Mush Brain struck again when the server asked what I wanted to drink and I confidently said, “Mountain Dew.”

“Sorry, we only have Coke products,” she said, and I was like, in my Mush Brain, thinking that was weird considering this was literally named for its root beer and that’s when I realized that MOUNTAIN DEW inexplicably came out of my mouth instead of root beer?!

“Oh! I meant to say root beer,” I corrected myself. “I don’t know why I said Mountain Dew,” and then I glanced at Henry who was looking at me with “are you having a stroke?” eyes. You guys, Mountain Dew was my drink of choice for pretty much all of my teens and into my early 20s until I basically quit drinking pop / soda cold turkey so I can’t even remember the last time I actually ordered a Mountain Dew at a restaurant or pulled one out of a cooler in a gas station, yet for some reason it rolled so effortlessly and familiarly off my tongue like I blinked and it was 2001 again.

Bizarre.

But yes, I know I said I never drink sodas anymore but I had to make an exception and get the root beer that they are famously named for! You can’t go to Frostop and not get a Frostop, or so I hear!

Chooch got a lemonade and we both opted to get our drinks in mugs. Henry got his in a to-go cup for some reason.

OK, HERE’S THE REVIEW: The root beer tasted like ordinary root beer to me (also, I’m glad that in the video we watched, the guys got root beer floats because prior to watching that I had grand designs to float it up but then I saw them and they are MASSIVE. It would have knocked me out for the day, and I might have had to puke at some point on the way home, not trying to be vulgar for once, just honest!!!). The grilled cheese was a big time meh. The bread was meh, it was barely “grilled,” and the cheese was soooo bad, like something you’d expect to be served up in a nursing home. Like, if my brain was cheese – mushy, but less melted. It was very strange cheese.

So, don’t get the grilled cheese. If you eat meat, Henry ordered BOTH the burger AND weiner and said they both good.

BUT YO.

THE ONION RINGS.

Wooooooo baby. Those were some of the BEST onion rings I’ve ever had. Also, note that I am super picky re: onion rings and onions in general. I hate when the onion is still practically raw and crunchy, and I also hate when you bite into it and the entire strand of onion is pulled out.

This was the PERFECT medium – not raw, but just crisp enough that one bite would sever the onion AND it didn’t have that slimy worm feel to it. I was so happy with these onion rings, but my stomach was NOT. Even without indulging in a root beer float, I still ended up down for the count and actually thought I was going to have to throw up before we even left the place. My bitch baby stomach just cannot handle anything greater than peanut butter toast these days, it’s so pathetic.

I did not end up puking, you’ll be pleased to know, and was able to last long enough at the table to BUY A FROSTOP SHIRT. The last 5 or so years, I have been in my commemorative diner/restaurant t-shirt or mug era. It’s so random and Henry doesn’t even hesitate anymore when I say, “I have to get a shirt.”

So, I now happily own a Frostop shirt just like the ones the employees wear!

“Aren’t you excited to inherit all of my diner and fastfood t-shirts when I die?” I asked Chooch.

“Yeah, I am so excited. I can’t wait,” he said in a monotone slick with onion ring grease.

“And my haunted house journals!” I added gleefully.

“I’m excited to burn those,” he said.

WOW.

And that was our memorable time at Frostop. SHOULD I TRY TO VISIT ALL OF THEM NOW?!

Dude OK just stop, slow down – I took these top two snaps from the car window as Chooch was taxiing us to our second lighthouse of the day. Just so serene! Was I in a surly, snurfly, sniffly mood still? Hundred percent! But even that screen of psychological disdain I was lurking behind like the silhouette of an 80s star slasher wasn’t so opaque that I couldn’t appreciate nature’s beauty!

Sometimes I think that I could be a boat person, just sitting on a pouf on whatever the deck is called, a starboard or whatever, sipping a bellini and reading some trash novel. But then I remember who I am and how I am unable to unwind and relax like a normal person and I would likely go stir crazy and freak out in the middle of a body of water which will culminate in me belly-flopping off the side of the boat and then having a nervous breakdown because I am terrified of THE THINGS in the SEA. And lakes. And rivers. And ponds. I’m not even too thrilled about public swimming pools, if we’re going all in here.

But I dunno, maybe an hour or two would be nice.

(And then I watch YouTube videos of whales flipping over boats and revert to my original anti-boat stance.)

Yes, I’ve seen beaches and oceans before but Maine just hits different, OK? (I think this was technically Penobscot Bay?)

(Penobscot is amazing to say. Love the mouthfeel.)

We had to park in a little lot and walk through a trail in order to access the lighthouse and it was a very enjoyable walk. Look at these views!

Why can’t I look as loose and cool as Chooch?

I’M ALWAYS TIGHT AND COILED INSTEAD.

Also this Hipstamatic filter makes me look like I have a skin condition.

I want to go back to Maine and just do slow tourism, which is really against everything I believe in, but being here honestly made me wish we had more time so we could just slow down and be outside at our leisure. I just don’t know how to plan trips around … “nothing.” The main purpose is always amusement parks or concerts, sometimes both.

He was super annoyed with me because there were all these little, treacherous paths that went down to the water and he wanted to go down them but I was having jelly-legs and wouldn’t let him. Jelly-legs is how I know I’m truly a mom. (YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN ME WATCHING THE OLYMPICS, THEY WERE ALL MY CHILDREN.)

I don’t know man. I just kept envisioning him tumbling down there in Instagram reel-format with Culture Club playing on 2x speed.

I realize now that we probably should have been finding people to take a picture of us with Henry too  (LOLOLOL) but I really have been so desperate to get as many photos with Chooch as possible at the risk of making him totally averse to any type of photographical situation for the rest of his life, eschewing family photos with his future family much like my own mother has for her entire adult life.

Taken from lighthousefriends.com: Owls Head Lighthouse is number one on Coastal Living magazine’s most haunted lighthouse list, and there are said to be at least two ghosts at the lighthouse. One is known as the “Little Lady” and is most frequently found in the kitchen or looking out a window. Doors slam, silverware rattles, but people say her presence brings a feeling of peace. The other is thought to be a keeper from beyond the grave.

Of course, we were there on a sunny, blue-sky day in July and nary a spirit was felt. I think in general, lighthouses at night are such a haunting, forlorn presence – ghosts or not!

I saw some old guy standing up here with his good-good camera so then, monkey see monkey do, obviously.

This flag made me mad.

Bitching about me being annoying, I’m sure.

UGH I love nature! I know everyone is like knocking each other out of the way to go to New England in the fall, but the summer!! THE GREENERY!! I loved it. Even though I was/am in such a bad place, I think it was at least a little bit healing for me. The fresh ocean air and sunshine was a lot better than being at home in shitty Brookline, I guess (Although, I missed Penelope terribly and was so concerned about her even though my mom was there because it was the first time leaving her since Drew died.)

Then we went into the gift shop and this is when Chooch gasped at the realization that a LIGHTHOUSE PASSPORT exists and that would have been good to know and a fun family activity (mmm, maybe strike “family”) if we had more time but also I think there are like 50+ lighthouses in Maine so I feel like that would have to be the actual theme of a vacation. Lighthouse Lunacy, or whatever.

I did buy some magnets and a really pretty sea glass pendant that has the Owls Head lighthouse hand painted on it by a local artist (allegedly).

Before heading to Portland, we stopped at a general store so I was able to take a picture of the adjacent, adorable Owls Head post office. Shit, this town was so presh!

This part of Saturday night was frustrating. I had a plan and as per usual Henry decided to wipe his ass with it and go rogue. We were supposed to go to Portland after Funtown, have dinner, look at the lighthouse, do fun and cool city stuff. But Henry was like WE WILL INSTEAD GO TO THAT BEACH PLACE YOU MENTIONED and like, yeah, I mentioned it but that was for Sunday night?! When it would probably be less crowded?

So, we get there and it’s crowded (surprise) and Henry was being so annoying about parking. I lost it and cried, “JUST FORGET IT, LET’S JUST GO TO THE AIRBNB” and he was like “AT 7:OOPM?? AND THEN JUST STAY THERE?!” because it was in the middle of nowhere with stuff to do. So then after he started to head toward that way, I was like FINE JUST GO BACK and so we did but it was annoying and crowded and honestly, I just didn’t like the vibes.

The actual area is called Old Orchard Beach, btw, and it is NO WILDWOOD, NJ, that I will tell you. I was hoping for Big Beach Energy but it wasn’t that. It felt like a county fair, but put it next to the beach.

We didn’t spend much time here. We had three coaster creds to scoop up – Henry opted out because we had to pay per ride and he is El Cheapo.

Thrilled.

This Orient Express was actually kind of forceful!?

I don’t know why Henry took so many pictures.

And a video:

Then we rode an SBF Visa Spinner. It was fine. Didn’t spin much and you can tell we are just so excited to be there riding a coaster model we’ve ridden 87 times.

This place was very crowded. It was like the Jersey Shore but with Maine accents and lots of French-Canadian tourists.

The main attraction was SEA VIPER:

I really enjoyed this! It was wild and not nearly as uncomfortable or janky as I had it pegged to be by scoping it out from line. And for one-train ops, the wait actually wasn’t that bad – maybe 25 minutes?

I loved this flat ride the most though!! YOU CAN TELL, BECAUSE I AM ACTUALLY SMILING!

Then we also did a realllllly lame funhouse (sorry, but Europe spoiled us with funhouses!!) and then walked down some pier thing with restaurants that had no food for vegetarians, and then we got coffee from some old woman at a snack counter. She was nice. The coffee was OK.

God, I was in such a foul mood though. I was hungry but not, I was sad but angry, I was tired but bored. Nothing was making me happy. I actually flipped out right after Henry took this picture because people were walking by and I was like HURRY UP AND TAKE THE PICTURE and then I decided NEVER MIND JUST FORGET IT and I walked away while Chooch was still sitting there, like, “I thought you wanted a picture here…?” and YOU KNOW WHAT, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WANTED.

So then we left and started to make our way to the airbnb in Westbrook, Maine which was about 20 minutes away and I cried in the passenger seat while occasionally snarling shitty remarks at Henry in the stylings of Teenage Girl Possessed by the Devil, because that is just what I do now. Where is my Olympic gold for being the GOAT at crying on the spot while verbally eviscerating Henry. This bitch can multi-task.

OH I WAS ALSO PISSED BECAUSE MY BLOG WAS BROKEN AND I WAS TRYING TO LIVE BLOG AND WHY IS EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE BREAKING/DYING/LEAVING/ETC.

Look at these beautiful memories I’ve been making this summer.

Good evening. I’m going to apologize in advance to those who read this because there will probably be several posts this week about The Cure and I know it can be annoying AF when I drag shit out but…this is just how it is. Go to your room if you don’t like it.

I know I mentioned at the bare minimum twice that I got Henry and myself tickets to see The Cure for their current US tour and while I have been very excited for the day to arrive, I have also been extremely anxious because I know the effect their concerts have on me AND IT AIN’T ALWAYS PRETTY. I get emotional at concerts as it is but it’s next level with The Cure, man. Some people are able to go, drink a bunch of fucking beer, carry on like assholes and then forget about it the next day, but I will usually wallow in sadness, grief, and other emotions that the Germans probably have words for, but we do not here in America.

That being said, I woke up early on Sunday morning and found my temper COILED TIGHTLY, READY TO SPRING. Nerves, people. Nerves. I started a fight with Henry I M M E D I A T E L Y because he slept an entire hour longer than I did (I have no logic). He had to sit me down on the couch and say TAKE IT EASY but in a nicer way because he is an Erin-whisperer.

Cool story, girl.

We left for the Blossom Music Center-ish area around 10AM that day because (1) we wanted to get lunch and (2) we wanted to do the early parking option that the venue was offering because I was being an utter spaz about merch. (SPOILER: this is a thing that actually worked in our favor, thank the lord.)

We had chosen a place to eat in Akron called NOMZ because it had options for both of us even though it had quite an unfortunate name that was reminiscent of this weird ass girl (not in a good way, because we all know weird is often good!) that I knew from LJ who I would invite to my parties because I was convinced that she would someday grow on me even though she was like a smashburger of Daria and I Can Haz Cheezburger and all of my friends begged me to give it up.

Then it turned out she was racist so, bye bye.

This was inside an industrial-ish shared space on the ground floor of an apartment building. The whole place was called The Market I think, which, wow, how long did it take them to think that one up in the boardroom, right? We placed our order with a really nice young guy working the counter and let me tell you – he was one of the few things this establishment had going for it. First of all, Henry ordered the roast beef but they were out of Horsie sauce. He mulled it over but ultimately stuck with his choice and just got it with mayo instead. I  ordered the chipotle fake chicken sandwich and added fake bacon to it.

Then we sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. I’m not exaggerating when I say it took at least 30-45 minutes for our food to arrive, and this was after watching table after table get the wrong stuff sent to them. So my confidence was at grim levels. Not only that, but the barista / bartender at the bar behind Henry was consistently fucking up drinks and losing orders.

When our food did arrive, delivered by the recipient of The Market’s 2023 Employee with the Most Non-Existent Personality Award, I knew STRAIGHT AWAY mine was wrong. I mean, at the very least, it was still fake chicken, which was good because HELLO, but it was 120% not the chipotle sandwich. First of all, there was zero chipotle taste. Then it had cheese which mine wasn’t supposed to. Rounded out by the fact that it was on Texas toast (EXTREMELY GREASY TEXAS TOAST, at that – the napkins I went through was absurd) when it was supposed to be on a ciabatta roll. OH, AND WHERE WAS MY $4 UPCHARGE HOUSEMADE VEGAN BACON?!

First, because the world revolves around Henry, he had to take care of his own lunch mishap, which was the fact that the bland server delivered his potato salad side with no utensils. She mumbled something about getting him a fork and spoon, but when she dropped them on the table, the spoon had something on it! UGH.

Then he went back and told the NICE GUY about my order blunder and the guy came over and was like I AM SO SORRY but I don’t think it was his fault! He wasn’t the one making the food and our receipt had the correct shit on it. I had already started eating my fake-chipotle sandwich and decided it was a keeper mostly because I didn’t want to wait another 30 minutes for the right one to be made, but I did want the bacon.

#NotChipotle

OMG though, that vegan bacon was actually to die for. It tasted so good that I started to panic that it was real. Henry tried it and determined that it definitely wasn’t real bacon but “pretty close.” So, that definitely got them back some points.

I don’t know, that place was just weird. I was having regertz about not ordering an iced latte but after seeing how many people kept going back to the bar and asking for their orders to be corrected (or, you know, made in the first place since she seemed to be flat out misplacing entire drink orders), it was probably for the best.

Also? None of the 5 TV screens were unmuted, and no house music was playing so all we could hear the whole time was other diners mercilessly scraping their stools off the concrete floor. SHIVERS. I got to watch Novak win the French Open on mute, but at least there were captions.

I really hate how good my sandwich was though because I wanted to another reason to be mad at NOMZ.

God, I hate that name so much.

Bathroom selfie because I asked Henry to take a picture of me at the table because I liked my top and he of course made me look like a mongoloid.

We strolled around the shops inside the Market and bought cookies from various vendors. I was excited to get a large funfetti cookie which we ate as we took a walk around the parking lot and it was very dry/stale. But then I think I ended up really liking it after all? The other one was like a peanut butter cup cookie and it was fat and MOIST but also kind of unsatisfying. I think maybe that was just me in general, MAYBE I’M JUST LIKE PRINCE’S MOTHER.

Idiot Dumbo Man.

I legit cannot pose, I don’t even know why I try.

Anyway, right behind us was a train station for some Cuyahoga Railroad thing and Henry excitedly talked to the guy in the ticket booth who was kind of creepy but also charming somehow? Sure, I walked away mid-conversation because I lost interest but at the same time I kind of want to go back and come on ride the train and ride it.

And that was Akron.

We needed somewhere to eat dinner when we were en route to Tennessee on Friday and of course Henry put the burden on me. I hate that!! I can’t understand maps first of all, so I always end up finding a cool place, getting my heart set on it, only for Henry to say, “THAT IS NOT ON THE EXIT” like I know what that means.

I really hate him sometimes.

There was this cafe that was also a used book shop that had lots of vegan options and sounded like something I would love and I put all my eggs in that basket. Then of course, Henry was like THAT IS IN CHARLESTON, WV AND WE ARE NOT GOING THAT WAY but hello, he’s the one who was like, “Look for Rt. BunchaNumbers on the map and go from there.”  THAT IS WHAT I DID??

Anyway, I found a place in Davidson (? I think ?) WV called The Dish and it seemed appealing because they had housemade veggie burgers as well as brownies made with avocado. This seemed much better than going to a diner and getting stuck with either grilled cheese or a Gardenburger – not knocking either of these, and you know I love that greasy spoon ambiance, but I also wanted something healthy-ish.

Chooch was playing some dumb game on his phone called Bitlife all weekend and it was really embarrassing when he would say things like, “Now my mission is to become a pornographer” and the waitress would be lingering on the periphery. Or, “Great, 7 of my kids have measles and one just died.”

Henry and I are actually broken up but here is one of the last pictures we took together.

I had major regertz after seeing Chooch’s PB&J on a waffle that he ordered from the kid’s menu because he “just wasn’t that hungry” all of a sudden, but then was “starving” by the time we got to the hotel in Virginia an hour later. (I think we stayed in Virginia?? Yes, we did. I just had a flashback of passing the billboard for Dolly’s Diner and then going through the tunnel, and I think then Virginia happens.)

Oh you guys, my veggie burger was delectable. It came on a pita which was a nice departure from a typical bun! (Although the bun on ex-boyfriend Henry’s burger looked bangin’ so I kind of had double-regertz over that one.) There was avocado on this and a nice sauce that I enjoyed immensely. The only downside was that I ordered the veggie of the day – Brussels sprouts, which I love –  after confirming with the server that they weren’t going to be cooked in MEAT since nearly all eating establishments like to sully the sprouts in that way, making us veg-types the most sad. However, they gave me a baby portion! Literally like half of a palmful. I will say that they were cooked nicely and not all butter-logged and soggy. But still. I wanted more!

And then we split a warm brownie made with avocadoes, which Chooch frowned upon because he couldn’t wrap his head around this healthy ingredient substitute, but I thought it was just right.

Anyway, the whole reason I’m even writing this is because one day in the future, someone is going to ask, “What was that restaurant we ate at that one time…” and all I will have to do is check my dumb blog (if it even still exists) and scream out, “THE DISH! I WIN!” And also because I wouldn’t mind returning to this place the next time we’re driving out that way because it was delicious and didn’t make me feel shit afterward!

If you have any restaurant/diner recs that are on the route from Pittsburgh to Gatlinburg, let me know. I hate relying on Yelp, even though this time it worked in my favor!