I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately and I feel so sad.

“Do you think I should LiveBlog the parade? Hello? Why is no one answering me?”

“Ugh, why would you want to, nothing ever happens?! I mean I guess you can—” Chooch groaned.

“Ok I’ll do it since you want me to!”

And that’s how this Memorial Day parade LiveBlog was born.

But first, before the parade starts, SHINee’s back!!! And here is their new video!! I’m trying not to be all doom and gloom because there’s obviously no Jonghyun, which is really weird and leaves a gaping hole in the heart, but this song is really great, I mean truly superb, and I mean, Taemin. Oh for the love of Taemin.

9:46am: Chooch has summoned the neighbor kid to sit on our porch and Henry just looked out the door and said, “I hope they’re going to sit somewhere else” because neighbor kid has a very high-pitched cartoon voice and it drives Henry nuts. The parade starts at 10 but people have been set up since like 8, it’s so bizarre to me because this parade is the lamest and if I had to go any farther than my front porch to spectate…well, best believe that would never happen, so.

10:02am: Blake, Haley, and Calvin are here now (they walked really far across the front yard to get here) and we’re outside having a lovely conversation about Keds.

Calvin loves Chooch!

10:16am: Chooch kept saying this lady was walking around yelling at people. “Ha! She just yelled at Pita*!” Chooch scoffed. But then she got to our sidewalk and said, “Hey guys! Come down to the church down there after the parade! free hotdogs and a bouncy house! It’ll be a good time!”

Yeah, she really told us, Chooch!

*(Pita – Chooch’s frenemy down the street. Not his real name.)

10:18: Some lady somehow made it through the barricades and drove right into the parade. What a Janna thing to do.

10:20: Parade’s starting with a sound we know well here in Brookline – police sirens. See also: Henry’s favorite part of the parade. HE IS A COP SLUT.

“THEYRE NOT ALL BAD!” Henry yelled at me. And then under his breath, “Though, the motorcycle ones all seem to be dicks.”

10:22am: Candy’s being tossed at us but it’s getting mixed up with the glass and smashed car parts from that huge accident a few weeks ago, because NED came back yesterday to get his car which was a casualty of the accident so now all the debris beneath it is exposed. Oh Pioneer Ave.

10:24am: All these cars are parading past with In Memory of Donald James signs but we don’t know who that is. And Chooch just threw a melted Nestle Crunch at us.

10:26am: Sparky the Fire Dog came running over and Chooch got all excited until Sparky passed him up for Calvin lol.

10:34am All the little cars are my favorite part of the parade and now it’s over so what’s the point:

The only good part!

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on May 28, 2018 at 7:33am PDT

Now one of the high school bands are oozing past and I’m reminded of a Memorial Day about 6 years ago when I was working and Henry texted me to say that one of the band people threw an empty water bottle in our yard and I was like OH NO THEY DIDNT and i sent the SUPERINTENDENT an email voicing my displeasure and you best believe I received an apology from him and the band director thank you. (Also I emailed them from my work email which is a Law Firm lol.)

10:39am: Chooch has little kids bringing him candy like they’re his bread shuttles. (THATS KOREAN SLANG FOR THE KIDS BULLIES USE AS THEIR LACKEYS. My blog is so educational.)

1048am: I guess I would be zealously clapping like my neighbor is if I gave a shit about this country. Sigh.

Henry has no comment regarding the parade at this time.

10:53am: Just saw my friend Elaina walk by with the local dance studio! I like knowing people in the parade. It makes me feel like I have worth.

10:54am: The Teen Outreach Center just walked by and they all screamed RILEY!!!! and pelted Chooch with candy lol. Chooch calls the teen outreach center “the cult” and says they’re all hooligans lol.

11:03am: Ok the parade is over. I didn’t get to see any children fall this time but Chooch collected the most candy he’s ever collected probably just because Blake was there to coach him this time. He always leaves half of the candy in the street!!

Well guys, happy Memorial Day if you’re an American and happy Monday to the rest of you. We’re going to go and melt in the ninety degree sun now.

Also, P.S. I want to start my own dance studio so next year we can be in the parade sashaying down the Boulevard to Kpop and by we I mean probably just me and Janna because who else will I ever be able to wrangle?

Rue the day I learned about alliteration in elementary school, my friends. Rue the motherfucking day.

Anyway, I got caught in two crazy spring downpours this week and neither of them are that exciting, no one melted or anything, but it was still kind of fun in a carefree, forget-all-your-worries-and-pretend-you’re-a-kid kind of way. We all need a good run in the rain, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?

The first one happened on Mother’s Day. It had stormed really hard that morning but then the afternoon had shaped up to be a beautiful, sunny May day so I suggested (lol, j/k: demanded) that we take a family walk in Highland Park to honor my shitty mom-ness. There was little push-back from the guys of the house because they know better than to fuck with me on a holiday where I start out acting like I don’t care that they did nothing for me but then a quarter of the way through it, glass is shattering.

See also: Valentine’s Day, my birthday, Halloween, the other days in between.

Highland Park is really pretty but then there is a HUGE DISGUSTING WATER RESERVOIR THING in the middle of it and even though I know it’s there, it still catches me off guard every time and then Henry starts talking about filtering systems and other gross things and I’m like, “How many hobos piss in this tho, that’s why I don’t drink tap water” and he’s all, “Oh ho ho ho where do you think your bottled water comes from then” and I’m like THE FIJI FUCKING MOUNTAINS, DICKHEAD.

J/K, I drink the filtered tap water at work but sometimes we find like, silt in there and then we report it and the facilities lady is like, “THAT IS NORMAL. JUST DRINK IT. IT WON’T KILL YOU.”

Bitch then why am I typing this from my fucking coffin.

Halfway through our walk, the sky looked like this.

FOREBODING.

But Henry was all, “Don’t worry about it. My weatherman degree tells me that the storm is going to miss hitting us. We’re at the backend of it” and then all I could think about was the storm’s butt.

DISGUSTING WATER FILTERING HOUSE THING!!!!

*GAGBURP*

And then it started raining. Like RAINING. Like the hard pelting kind of rain that actually hurts your flesh. “Run!” Henry yelled and we turned and ran back to a nearby pavilion and you guys, it was so hilarious and fun and not just the fact that we were frolicking in the rain but WATCHING HENRY RUN! Oh god, Chooch and I were dying!

There were several joggers who passed by and Chooch kept yelling, “COME HERE WITH US! BE SAFE!” but then they would see Henry’s menacing and uninviting crossed-arm stance as he leaned against a picnic table, so they would be like, “Nah, it’s all good. We’d rather just drown out here, thanks.”

God, that was a fun Mother’s Day activity! Chooch thought it was hilarious because I was wearing a white shirt, but at least I had a cami on underneath it so I wasn’t trashing up the park with my obscene fashion.

****

On Wednesday, Henry and I dragged ourselves to the school for yet another one of those dumb concerts that Chooch insists on participating in. J/K, we do enjoy watching him sing with the chorus but the band, you guys. The band.

The theme was Sock Hop or something 1950s so all the girls had to wear poodle skirts or whatever. I think a bunch of moms got together and had poodle skirt craft night and I felt so blessed to have a son who only had to wear jeans and a white t-shirt, purchased an hour before the concert, thank you very much. Chooch was already at the school when we arrived, standing out front with his friend Sharyn, passing out the programs*. I noted immediately that Chooch was already sweating through his shirt, literally 20 minutes after putting it on, so that was cool.

*(The program is how I learned that my kid is secretary of the Chorus. “Did we know this?” I whispered to Henry. “I did,” he said with what might have been mistaken for…triumph? if Henry was actually capable of showing emotions. But he’s not, so maybe he has suppressing a burp or swallowing diamonds that he needed to hide from the Albanian mob.)

We sat down in the second row which was The Big Time for us because usually we hunker down in the very back. Actually, we had no choice but to sit there because it was the only two empty seats left. While Henry critiqued the poor program-printing (he always fixates on this), I eavesdropped on the family in front of us arguing about YANNY or LAUREL. I was obsessed with the mom (she was so pretty and cool and Asian) and realized that she’s my soul mate when I found out that she heard YANNY. (Henry heard LAUREL because he’s basic.)

There seemed to be A LOT of screaming babies in that cafeteria, more than usual, and they were FEEDING off each others’ wails. The baby behind me was doing this bizarre mogwai-gurgle that I was starting to suspect it had JUST BEEN BORN that day; it sounded so fresh from the womb.

I don’t know what’s worse though: crying babies or elementary school band?

This time  the show wasn’t so bad because the usual band director couldn’t be there and he is such a pompous jerk! The chorus teacher took over and did both parts of the spring program and sorry regular band teacher, but she did a much better job.

All the songs sounded like one long, drawn-out Christmas song to me though, until the very end when they played Love Me Tender and the lady behind me shouted, “OH, I KNOW THIS ONE!” Same, lady. Same.

Henry didn’t clap for them once.

And then the chorus came out and they all looked so cute! Chooch got to announce “Rock Around the Clock” and he enthusiastically said “Bill Haley and the Comets” with this weird hip-swivel and a bunch of people started laughing.

That’s my son, I whispered as I sunk down in my seat.

During the concert, it began to downpour. Like, possibly harder than the one we were caught in on Sunday. Henry only brought one umbrella and no way a family of three was going to fit under it. He kept telling us to just hang back and wait it out, but I was like, “BITCH I’M HUNGRY I’M GOING HOME” because I had barely eaten anything all day since I had to fast for the dumb wellness exam at work and then didn’t have any Cream of Wheat for lunch and I know what you’re thinking CAN’T SHE GO TO A STORE why yes, yes, I can! BUT I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE IT SO I ATE RAINBOW GOLDFISH FOR LUNCH INSTEAD.

That’s the beauty of being an adult.

After a full minute of “waiting it out,” in the school lobby, Chooch & I were like SEEYA SUCKER & ran home with the only umbrella, leaving Henry there at the school umbrella-less, waiting out the rain, but joke’s on me because WHO WILL MAKE MY DINNER.

The best part is that the people at the school were probably like “Aw that’s nice, they must be coming back with the car to get their dad.” LOL NO.

We only live two-ish blocks from the school (I don’t understand how blocks work) but that rain was pelting down on us so hard that it was knocking us around! And the road was already flooding (seriously) so we were terrorized by cars flying through the road-lakes and I had white shoes on that are probably ruined now, j/k Henry will wash them haha.

The best part is that now it was Chooch’s turn to be the one in the white t-shirt.

Then Henry had the audacity to tell me to bring an umbrella up to him and I was like, “Are you kidding me? Put your big boy pants on and run home, tough guy!”

Then I told Henry to ask the vice principal for a ride home since they’re BBFs apparently (Henry had to talk to him a lot back when Chooch was the school menace in 4th grade, good riddance to THAT year) and then I got a FLOOD WARNING on my phone, so I told him to just float home like he’s on the Lazy River at Sandcastle (that’s a waterpark in Pittsburgh in case you don’t live here and think I’m getting lost in my dumb imagination again) and then Chooch and I were practically peeing our pants with laughter and it wouldn’t have mattered if we had because we were already drenched.

And then looked what washed ashore!

I was like, “ARE YOU MAD AT US” and he started to say something about how it’s just rain but I was already interrupting him to tell him to make our dinner.

And so he did. The end.

For those who are like, so over the vacation recaps, here’s a blog post chockful of happenings from last week. Tres exciting. Oui oui.

NEIGHBOR “NED”‘S BACK

So my neighbor (“Ned”) who was recently raided in a drug bust (his hearing is next month, we checked lol) and GAVE CHOOCH AND ME A FAKE NAME stopped by last Saturday to get the rest of his stuff (can’t wait to see who my next neighbors will be #help) and I was spying from my window when it occurred to me that I’m always pointing my neighbors out to my friends like “THAT’S THE ONE ON HOUSE ARREST” or “SHE MIGHT RUN A METH LAB” or whatever but I wonder if any of them are like “THAT’S THE PSYCHO WHO IS ALWAYS JOGGING IN PLACE OR DANCING TO WEIRD KOREAN MUSIC IN FRONT OF THE WINDOW.”

But holy shit, Ned came back the next day too to get the rest of his stuff and I was dying to talk to him but I held back. But then I saw him out there taking pictures of the damage that was done to his car and I just couldn’t help myself, I ran out there without any makeup on because I needed him to know what happened to his car. Henry was leaving at the same time to take Chooch to his piano lesson and I could tell he was dismayed that I went out there and involved myself.

Wow, I thought he’d brush me off but NO, he started talking to me ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED THAT DAY!

“You were there when it happened, right?” he asked, and I was like, “Hoooo boy, are we really going to talk about this right now, this is so WISTERIA LANE!” but it turns out he was only asking because he wanted to know if I remembered what time everything happened.

“I think around 6:00am,” I answered thoughtfully.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “because those guys in that house said it was about 5:30.”

As I was mulling this, he told me that the search warrant said the cops couldn’t come in before 6 and he was sure that they did, and he has an investigator on the case, and he’s going to come and talk to the other neighbors, could he come and talk to me too?

“YES, SEND HIM TO ME. I WILL TALK TO HIM,” I said firmly, dying at the chance to bring down the popo, especially after Ned told me about the racist bullshit they said to him that day.

Meanwhile, the broad who was living there with him is in jail! He said something about how she violated her work probation or something, all I know is that I’m sure she framed him and this was all about her all this time so I don’t care that she’s in jail.

After I wished Ned good luck, I came in the house and called Henry.

“No, it was probably around 6,” Henry said, while I was screaming about him about being. “Here, I’ll check my texts and see what time you texted me about it that morning….it was 6:03am.”

“NO, probably that’s just when I woke up and they had already been in the house for QUITE SOME TIME!” I yelled.

Then I asked Chooch when he came home from piano.

“Mmm, it was after si—-”

“NO YOU’RE WRONG, YOU IDIOT, IT WAS LIKE 5:30, GOD!!!” I cried. “I can’t wait to talk to that investigator, I’m on a fucking crusade for Ned’s innocence,” I said.

“Well, if you have to testify, they might as well just put him in jail now. You have NO control over your temper,” Henry sighed.

SPRINGTIME PLAYGROUND TRIPS

Just the other day, we drove past one of the playgrounds in Brookline and I felt kind of sad that Chooch is well past the age of playground trips, but I also felt relieved too because I always hated the inevitable small talk that would happen when a mom would sidle up beside me. UGH.

But then last Sunday, Blake asked if we wanted to walk to the playground with him, Haley, and Calvin. EFF YES WE DID! I needed steps for the walking challenge! And you know, we’re always up for hanging out with fam.

One thing that hasn’t changed — Chooch still sucks at pushing himself on a swing.

And one thing that HAS changed: Calvin can walk now!

We stopped at Las Palmas on the way back and I used this as my opportunity to snap a pic of my longtime taco cart boyfriend. Henry was just like, “Whatever.”

WALKING CHALLENGE UPDATE: WEEK ONE

The results for week one were released and I was pleasantly surprised to see that I made it in fourth place for individual walkers without even really trying, and my team made it in the Top 3! (YOU’RE WELCOME, C.E.W.L. AND THE GANG.) I won a $10 Starbucks gift card for my efforts, but I will likely not win anything in the next mini-challenge, which is “best healthy recipe.” Glenn was like, “Yeah, maybe Henry could win that one for you” but I’M NO CHEATER. So I won’t be submitting anything for that mini-challenge.

“Stop walking so much,” Ethan said to me when I passed him in the hallway, and then Sandy called out, “Professional walker!”

“I’m back!” I laughed, and you know what? IT FELT GOOD. I think sitting out during those last several Walking Challenges was a good thing because I feel less burdened.

We’ll see how I feel when the next week of results are released though, lol.

CHOOCH’S BIRTHDAY WAS THE WORSTDAY

I had the day off on April 25th because it’s my annual “nursing phantom c-section pains” and “wallowing in self-pity for having a [insert age]-year-old.” Did you know that I have horrible luck when it comes to taking off random days in the middle of the week? Well, I do. And this day was no different. I noticed that Drew was acting super weird, walking around the house and then squatting like she had to pee or poop, but nothing was coming out. She never goes to the bathroom outside of her litterbox, so that in and of itself was bizarre. Immediately, I was like DREW IS DYING and was in panic-mode until Henry came home from work and we were able to take her to the vet for an emergency appointment. At first, the vet said that it appeared Drew had a bladder blockage, which I had read on the Internet earlier because YOU CAN’T TELL ME YOU DON’T GOOGLE WORST CASE SCENARIOS TOO, but that this was very rare in a female cat which I had also read earlier, and this was the part where I was waiting for her to basically tell us this was the feline version of the Crying Game but no, Drew is still a girl and the X-rays actually revealed NOTHING, no stones or crystals which meant no surgery, and the vet was able to physically express Drew’s bladder THANK GOD so crisis averted but this still cost us so much that we had to pay out of three different accounts, oh that Paycheck-to-Paycheck lyfe, y’all! Honestly though, we were so grateful and relieved to be bringing home a healed and healthy cat that I would gladly pay that again.

Chooch: Guess I’m not getting a birthday present now.

Me: We just kept your goddamn cat alive – WE GAVE U THE GREATEST GIFT OF ALL.

Ugh! Kids! And pets!!

We weren’t home for more than ten minutes when I stepped on the edge of one of the cats’ scratch pads and rolled my ankle so far that the top of my foot was touching the floor.

WOW THAT FELT GOOD!

I honestly can’t remember the last time I was in so much pain that I was screaming out loud. I fell back onto the chaise, writhing in pain, and screaming WHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY like the Nancy Kerrigan of the Law Firm Walking Challenge, trying to find a way to blame whoever was in fifth place for Week One.

Somehow, I was able to walk it off, literally, but ended up walking with a slight limp for the rest of the week. That was a close call, C.E.W.L. and the Gang, but don’t worry – I’D WALK ON CRUTCHES IF I HAD TO.

We were both doing much better by the next day.

Honestly though thank god this little nutcase is back to her normal, spring-footed self.

BTS WORLD TOUR

Sometime last week, I started to see rumors that BTS was about to announce a world tour. I got excited for a split second and then felt immediately stressed and hoped that it actually was just a rumor because I wasn’t prepared for this. Not at all. Especially not after just dropping $500 on a vet bill (LOVE YOU, DREW). But then it was announced on Thursday and I was immediately thrown into psychological turmoil, thinking of all the things around the house I can sell. (ANYONE WANT A 12-YEAR-OLD WHO ENJOYS SHOVELING SNOW IN THE WINTER?!) And then the very next day, it was announced that tickets are going on sale NEXT WEEK. NEXT FUCKING WEEK! Like, give some Armys a chance to fucking scrounge up their allowances OK?! (J/K I’m not an Army but I do like BTS a lot.)

Henry jokingly said it was too bad that BTS tickets weren’t one of the Walking Challenge prizes and an image of the bloody stumps I once called “feet” flashed across my vision because bitch you best believe I would walk until I collapsed for a chance to win tickets.

“You’re going to have to start doing odd jobs around town,” I said to Henry, very matter-of-factly. “Like, surely someone needs their chimney swept or something.”

“Yes, because that’s exactly something I know how to do, sweep chimneys,” Henry said with a mouthful of sardonicism. WOW I THOUGHT HENRY COULD DO EVERYTHING. So much for the Mary Poppins role-playing I had in mind for later.

At one point Saturday night, Henry called out from the kitchen, “WHAT are you doing?” Oh, I was just laying upside down on the arm of the couch with my arm splayed across my face, thinking of how impossible my chances of getting tickets are. These fuckers are going to sell out so fast, between Armys, dumb Americans who just jumped on the bandwagon thanks to motherfucking Ellen DeGeneres and that awful Desiigner remix, but most of all THE TICKET RESALE COMPANIES. Oh, I just feel sick.

Add to that the fact that Henry heard one of their songs at the grocery store, and I had no idea they were at “grocery store sound system” levels of fame in the US so RIP any hope I had for getting even a nosebleed seat.

Send me prayers on May 5th, you guys.

UPDATE: Wendy just told me that she would help me get BTS tickets if I paint her house. I don’t think I like BTS that much, though.

IMPORTANT WORK NEWS

The new admin assistant started last week and I really like her! I’m not sure if anyone told her yet that she’s acquiring a new Work Child with her position, but she has several adult children so what’s one more, right? Glenn was like, “Hopefully she knows how to cut apples.” I mean, duh.

(I literally, as I’m writing this, woke up Henry to cut an apple for me and then I didn’t even finish it because it’s NOT SO GREAT.)

I said something to Todd about how hopefully she will start buying me presents too and he was like, “Yeah, I don’t see that happening.”

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

I mean, we walked out of work together today and I basically saved her from getting hit by a car and by that I mean we were crossing the street and there was a car way at the other end and I was closest to it, so….I pretty much blocked her.

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

Well, that’s all for now. The Korea posts will resume tomorrow, GET SOME SLEEP TONIGHT, lol.

I always say I’m not going to be surprised when the weather goes batshit, because Pittsburghers should be used to it, but good lord this last week has been infuriating. Last Friday, it was starting to finally feel like spring and I even left the house without a jacket when I met Kara for breakfast at Dorstop! And the next day actually felt like July – I went with Henry and Chooch for a walk on some bike trail thing and even though I am a Professional Walker, it was too much too soon and I felt really lethargic and sick for the rest of the day.

And then it snowed three separate days later in the week so I had to go back to wearing my winter coat and scarf. In mid-April.

We took advantage of the warmth on Saturday though and got our first Al’s of the season! I say that like we’re regulars there when I think it was only probably the third time we’ve gone. I was sad though because the only reason I wanted to go was because last time I had this SIMPLY DIVINE (lol) Mexican fried ice cream topping and I needed that so bad on Saturday for some reason.

BUT NOW THEY DON’T HAVE IT ANYMORE.

At least, I don’t think they do. Chooch freaking ordered like it was his last ice cream on earth before Henry and I even made it to the window, so then the lady was looking at all expectantly, order pad in hand (I’ve never seen an ice cream…barista?…write down orders before!) and people were behind us now and we felt RUSHED and OBLIGATED to order immediately.

So we both got twists with crunchies as a topping.

Thanks, Chooch.

I mean, that’s probably what we would have ordered anyway, but still.

THANKS, CHOOCH.

Speaking of Chooch, his cat is a fucking nutcase. She started jumping on him and perching on his shoulders like a parrot several months ago (in fact, moments before I took this picture, she had jumped straight on top of his head and stood there with all four paws touching like an elephant standing on a ball). But now, she does this to Henry and me, too! It stresses me out so much because she only does this when we’re standing, and every morning before work, I stand in front of the TV and jog in place* while watching kpop stuff so I’m a prime piece of furniture for her now, apparently. The other day, I caught her started to pounce and I moved out of the way just in time and thank god because I was wearing a silk shirt! God, that would have hurt.

So that’s a thing that happens in my house now.

*(Side note: Another walking challenge started at work last Monday and I originally wasn’t going to do it but then Carrie asked me to be on a team with her and Lou, and I was like “Ugh, Lou, but OK fine” and then we roped in Wendy, so Lou named our team C.E.W.L. and the Gang even though I think 3 Girls and a Lou-ser is better. I’ve been averaging 22,000 steps a day without trying too hard because my lifestyle is way different now than it was back in the days of the original walking challenges, and I think I have been pretty calm about it. I haven’t berated my teammates and I don’t feel like flagellating myself if I don’t get 71234807230847 steps now. I mean, not like I was super militant about it in the past or anything.)

Oh, you want more work tales? Well, we had a huge cake the other day because two of our peoples are leaving us :( The next day, I was on late shift and was asked to:

1. take some cake home
2. cover the leftovers in plastic wrap and put it back in the fridge

A simple request, you’re thinking. If so, wow, how novel it must be to be so FUNCTIONING!!! Because I, on the other hand, was freaking out. The plastic wrap was so jacked on the roll that I couldn’t pull any out and the sheath of it that was already covering part of the cake from the day before had icing all over it and I didn’t want to touch it, ughhh. So I’m standing there holding this degenerate roll of plastic wrap, staring at this cake that has been butchered by too many cakecutters in the kitchen (Carrie should have just been on stand-by all day with the knife because her cake-cutting skills are legit! My cake-cutting method involves only my hands and zero skill.)

I didn’t feel comfortable asking any of the other people in the office on late shift because I’m not very close to them so they don’t know my neurotic levels of incompetency, so I did what I had to do…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

Yes sir, I texted Henry, who was already on his way to pick me up and said “Sue asked me to put the cake away before she left can you help” and his response was “how much cake is there” so I said “a lot” because I didn’t know how to measure and hahaha he came in to help me and immediately was like, “REALLY ERIN THIS CAKE IS ALREADY MOSTLY COVERED?!” but there were pieces that were already cut and on plates that weren’t covered, and also a peninsula off the east coast of the main cake that wasn’t covered by the original piece of plastic wrap because I didn’t want to touch it long enough to stretch it over.

See also: IT HAD ICING ON IT.

So Henry’s solution was to just take that piece home but that would have been EVEN WORSE FOR ME TO DO ON MY OWN thank god I made him come up. And then he carried the huge box into the kitchen, where I opened the fridge door for him and yelled Team Work which made him glare at me.

Then since he was there and I still had a few more minutes left of work, I gave him a bunch of stuff of Halloween decorations I found while cleaning out my desk for my move and said, “Here take this down to the car with you.”

Get yourself a multi-purpose Henry!

In other weird weather week news, Chooch casually mentioned over the weekend that he missed Korean food and I said, “SON, SPEAK NO LOUDER I HEAR YOU” and that’s how we ended up at Korea Garden on Sunday for lunch and it was grand but not as grand as, you know, actually being in Korea which I still cry about every day. Chooch had bibimbap and I’m so proud that he actually reaches for the gochujang now. People really can change!

Our favorite Korean restaurant in Pgh is Nak Won Garden, but Korea Garden has a nice atmosphere too. Both of those restaurants are always filled with Korean people every time we go, so that’s how you know a Korean restaurant is legit! I didn’t want to write about this because it still makes me so angry, but the day after we got home from Korea, Chooch went back to school but Henry and I still had one more day off so I suggested that we get Korean food for lunch. We went to this place called the Golden Pig and this review sadly has nothing to do about the people running it or the quality of the food, but moreso the experience we had with the so-called “regulars” who made us feel like shit for being there.

Golden Pig is very, very, very small. It has a counter that seats maybe 5 people, and then two or three (but I think two) tall tables with three chairs each. We arrived right on the heels of two white men who very clearly are regulars of the place, so they sat at the counter and immediately started talking to the, I assume, husband and wife owners who were in the kitchen. As soon as we sat down at a table, I turned and looked out the window just in time to see a literal procession of cars pulling into the parking lot. Within 5 minutes, every seat was taken and there were groups of people waiting outside.

This isn’t some trendy restaurant in the heart of hipster Pittsburgh, you guys. It’s out kind of far in a place called Cecil and not in an urban setting at all. But it turns out that most of these people were coming from the same company, I guess, because the restaurant was filled with, “HEY FRED I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COME HERE TOO” and things of that cordial work-bro nature. That was mildly uncomfortable only because it made Henry and me feel like outsiders and we were crashing a party, and people definitely kept looking at us.  I didn’t like it.

All blue-collared white people. This fact is important.

Then these ladies who were sitting at the counter knew the guys at the table next to us so they kept turning around and talking to them about what they liked to order there and THEY WOULDN’T EVEN USE THE PROPER KOREAN NAMES and the one lady was like, “Oh, what are things we like? The sushi roll things” and she was poring over the menu while Henry was mouthing, “DON’T” to me because I was bouncing in my seat in anguish, the pure desire to shout out, “KIMBAP!” made me have actual shakes.

But this isn’t the worst part. It came later, after our food was served, and I had this dolsot pot of bubbling hot kimchi jjigae in front of me which, have you ever had anytime of jjigae / Korean stew? It is SCALDING HOT. You absolutely cannot eat this right away. So I’m sorry, but when I ordered it, I didn’t know that there would be a mass of hungry Cecil-ites congregating inside and outside of this tiny, tiny, tiny restaurant, coveting my table.

Oh, but there was!

Particularly, this one bitch and her husband (I guess? She put her head on his chest at one point). I didn’t see them at first because they were standing inside the doorway out of my view, but Henry said that they were staring at him the whole time, watching him eat. I didn’t notice them until the moved farther into the restaurant to get something to drink out of the cooler behind Henry. Then they just stood there, so now I was the one facing them. I didn’t much much attention to them at first, but after a few minutes I had this paranoid feeling that they were talking about me, and every time I looked up, the bitch was looking right at me.

But it wasn’t until I caught her MOCKING ME BLOWING ON MY SPOON that I went from mild-paranoia to table-flipping urgency within seconds.

“THOSE PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY TALKING ABOUT ME!” I said to Henry, LOUDLY in the tone that he just loves because it means I just stepped into my PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE BITCH jumpsuit and I’m ready to take flight in my rocket TO PETTYVILLE.

“I know,” he said quietly. “They’ve been staring at us since they got here. Fuck them,” and continued to eat his whatever chicken because he has way more patience and integrity than me, who was ready to launch my whole dolsot pot into her face, BE STRONG, ERIN.

As soon as I said that to him, she got all bristled and turned her back toward to me and put her face in her husband’s chest and I gave him a disgusted, “WHY DO YOU SUPPORT HER BEHAVIOR?!” grimace. So then he hurriedly looked away too.

But really? Of all the people there, you need to have OUR TABLE? You can’t wait for your turn like everyone else, or perhaps focus on the two guys who arrived before us and were already finished eating but still sitting at the counter and talking? OR MAYBE GO SOMEWHERE ELSE? I know I can be hateful but I cannot imagine ever walking into a place and being such a cunt to a total stranger. I wish you guys could have seen the way she imitated me, for no reason, just because I was sitting at a table and she wasn’t!?

And then!!! The ladies at the counter were all, “Oh  my god, do you guys want to sit down?” and moved over so they could have room at the counter and I was like, “WHY ARE YOU BEING NICE TO THEM!?” and then they were talking about their favorite dishes there and the CUNT said in her gravelly redneck  Yinzer throat scrape, “My favorite is the sweet potato noodle, I get it all the time.”

WELL THEN CALL IT JAPCHAE, YOU DUMB BITCH!!!!!!!

Anyway, my whole point to this story is that we had just spent 10 days in another country, being the token foreigners in most of the restaurants we ate at, and not once were we EVER made to feel like we didn’t belong  there. In fact, no one ever even gave us a second glance. Yet, here we are back in Trump’s America, getting low-key harassed by some entitled cunt who feels like she belongs in a restaurant more than we do.

Now I’m irate all over again. So many people experience that condescending and denigrating attitude EVERY DAY OF THEIR LIVES in this damn country. So many people. I’m not saying that I felt like a victim by any means here because fuck that white trash bitch, but it was just like a big fat WELCOME HOME slap to the face, you know? The way some people treat each other here is sickening.

AND THAT’S THE END OF THIS DUMB POST.

At approx 7pm Sunday night, I was just sitting on the couch, minding my own, drooling over watching The Bride of the Water God….

…when I heard a series of otherworldly, apocalyptic BOOMS.

My first inclination was to think that a plane crashed in my front yard and was now milliseconds away from sliding into my house. Chooch thought our neighbor who is always working on his car dropped something because yes, the last time I checked, a wrench hitting the ground of a garage sounds exactly like 7349823 tons of metal being crushed and accordioned in our front yard.

But no – just some broad who totaled not one but FIVE cars parked along our street before coming to a stop right next to “Ned’s” abandoned car.

Henry, with his constant need to insert himself into everyone’s 911 narrative, practically swan dove out the front door mid-dinner prep, Ziploc bag of chicken still in hand, and was FIRST ON SCENE THANK THE FUCKING LORD. You know what you have, you fucking Cub Scout? A goddamn hero complex. Don’t deny it, Hank.

(Actually, Chooch and I didn’t know that Henry was out there, chicken-in-hand, until 30 minutes later when he finally left things in the hands of the TRAINED PROFESSIONALS, and he was heroically marching to the house, bag of marinated chicken swinging joyfully at his side.

“OMG YOU HAD THAT IN YOUR HAND THAT WHOLE TIME YOU ARE SO EMBARRASING!” I screamed, while Chooch was on the phone with his friend from down the street saying “YEAH SHE HIT LIKE FIVE CARS DIDNT YOU HEAR IT?!” There was a lot going on.)

HNC’s wife was second on scene, tied with some other lady down the street who was all concerned about the well-being of whoever was behind the wheel because she didn’t know yet that her BRAND NEW BMW was one of the victims of the side-swiping. Anyway, HNC’s wife called 911 while Henry and the Italian guy in the next house over talked to the broad-perp, convincing her to stay in the car.  Henry, who knows everything, wrote in his (I Wish I Was The) police report that her side airbags went off but not the drivers one. Fascinating.

Eventually, a healthy crowd had congregated. The Italian guy’s daughter at some point realized that her car was also victimized and she was out there crying (apparently it was her birthday too which I deduced from the 6 times her dad sarcastically said “Happy Birthday” to her) then Chooch’s nemesis Larry came out with his dog and he was HAMMERED (Larry, maybe the dog too) and Chooch’s other nemesis The Witch emerged at some point because we live on a street of fucking vigilantes.

I guess the lady is ok, or as ok as one can be after annihilating a block of cars. She didn’t leave with the ambulance.

Now they’re looking for “Ned” and I’m like “oh hello his house was raided last month and he moved out and left his car. Don’t think he’ll mind that one whole entire side has even ripped off, probably the least of his concerns right now.” It’s kind of ironic though because every day since we’ve been home from My Kingdom a/k/a Korea, I’ve been mindlessly asking no one in particular, “What’s going to happen to ‘Ned’s’ car?”

The tow truck guy came over and was talking to me and Henry almost booted me backward into the basement so he could do the talking but the tow truck driver wasn’t interested in talking to Henry because he doesn’t have boobs.

“Why didn’t you tell the cops about ‘Ned’ when they were knocking on his door?” Henry asked.

“Because they didn’t ask me and I hate cops and won’t initiate conversation with them,” I said haughtily because how does he not know this? I’ll talk to the cute tow truck driver though. HE ASKED ME IF I WAS OK what a Prince!!!

Look at her car! The one front wheel is UNDERNEATH IT. She is so lucky that she is ok and that the only damage that incurred was to a bunch of parked cars and no human beings or worse — ANIMALS. Our sidewalk is heavy with pedestrian traffic and dog walkers so thank god no one was out there at that exact moment.

[Chooch’s review: It was spooky.]

When I first moved to the street in 1999 (ugh, I’m a townie at this point), the people living next door at the time gave me the sagest advice ever: DO NOT PARK ON THE STREET. The amount of accidents we’ve seen is super disturbing (like the hit & literal run from a few summers ago when Henry got to put on his cape once again). The first rule of living on Pioneer Ave is don’t park on Pioneer Ave, guys.

UPDATE: It’s been two hours since the commotion and everyone has long since cleared out, but now there is an ambulance that just arrived and I’m like, “Are they late!?” but they’re here for something else because why not.