Copping out with a repost because I’m all bogged down over here with other projects when all I want to do is sit down and pound out some nonsensical bullshit on here, you know? Especially since this dumb blog turned TEN YEARS OLD this week! Maybe we’ll celebrate once October is over. This is my busiest month, you know.
***

(Originally written November 10, 2015)

Pascal wouldn’t give Pancho money for ice cream. Mother gave him five whole dollars and said to make sure his brother got an ice cream, but Pascal spent it all on a candle for his dumb girlfriend who stunk like PSLs and was real frangible, Pascal said. She spent hours carving her face and Pancho thought she looked hideous. Pancho hated her. Peg. What a dumb name.

Pancho really wanted a motherfucking ice cream, and what made Pascal the fugleman of frosty funds? Pancho hated Pascal even more than he hated Peg and her silicon chest-gourds.

Everyone knew they were fake!

“And stop carrying that ax around everywhere. No one is scared!” Pascal sneered at Pancho. “Everyone knows it’s fake!” Just like Peg’s pepos, Pancho thought quietly to himself. “Mother bought it at the Halloween store for $8!”

Pascal was wrong though. Unlike Peg’s synthetic jugs, his ax was real.

He swapped it out with Farmer Picklepecker’s real like battle ax last week after Pascal made fun of him for carrying around a baby’s weapon. What are you gonna kill with that thing? Stink bugs? The pimples on your back? Pascal yelled across the playground one day, when Pancho was talking to his crush, Pepper.

Pepper laughed so hard, it was all Pancho could hear in his head, like sheets of metal shaking against his ears. She laughed and laughed and laughed until she was nothing more but a bad memory stuffed inside a dumpster with rotted meat and cat shit.

Pancho grudgingly followed Pascal home along the river.

It was getting late and Mother would be expecting them to set the mannequins up near the window; ever since Pa ran off with the Bulgarian gymnast coach, Mother liked the neighbors to think that the house was full of friends and livelihood, as if she wasn’t eating her weight in beer nuts and watching DVRd recordings of Family Feud, and not even the good ones with Richard Dawson, but that shitty Steve Harvey garbage.

Hearing the river whooshing below them, Pancho considered pushing Pascal into it, but Pascal caught on quickly; his rounded eye-cuts made for exceptional peripheral peering and his reflexes were on point.

“I’ll rip your stem off!” Pascal laughed.

“You’re such a dumb baby. Dear Diary, my brother wouldn’t buy me ice cream today. I am a big cry baby. I am going to stick my pacifier in my mouth now.” Pascal laughed at his own stupid joke and Pancho started to cry.

“I’m going to tell Mother on you!” Pancho whimpered.

“Oh no, please don’t tell MOTHER on me,” Pascal begged, dragging down his voice with theatrical whines.

Pascal’s mocking tone took Pancho back to a time when Mother bought him a new doll for Christmas, the kind with human heads and long flaxen hair.

The kind that Pancho would tattoo with Mother’s simmering cigarette butts.

The kind that Pancho would decapitate with Mother’s pinking shears.

And then Pancho drifted off into a sanguinary gapeseed as Pascal’s needling taunts and baby-talked derision faded away until it blended with the birds above and the blood crashing against the inside of his head.

And then—-

Static.

[Alternately titled: Bored during my lunch break when it’s raining and there’s nowhere else to go but sit at my idiotic desk.]

So since Shadows was a disappointment you shouldn’t expect much from me. So to start off, I had to go to the bathroom and there were no porta-potties to go in so I had to go to some weird bathroom with toilets that didn’t have water and it just dropped underground. Then I turned the “water” on and there was nothing and there was no SOAP, so I didn’t wash my hands at all but oh well.  The trail was uneventful because there was a HUGE group in front of us, and by huge I mean 6 people, maybe 5, but they were taking their good ol’ time and talked to EVERY. SINGLE. ACTOR. So by the time we would catch up to them, we would have to stop and wait till we can’t hear them anymore. Which is a long time, because THEY NEVER SHUT UP! Then we would get up to the spooky parts and the people wouldn’t be ready and yet mum was still fidgety. Furthermore, since we were going “too fast”, which is normal speed, and we were catching up to them, one of the actors was walking with us because we were catching up to them so he was strolling down the trail with us. That was the most that happened, OH, then a chainsaw guy chased us through a field at the end. Which happens every year, and since I knew it happened in a field, I saw a field and pushed mum back and fled the scene.

Cheeseman’s Fright Farm was, in my opinion, better this year than last year. You will find out why in the end. So we went with Blake, Haley, Janna, mum, and ME (the best) and we so spooked. During the hayride which was pretty uneventful besides the part where a chainsaw dude was putting the saw part under mum and Haley’s butt, and he touched MY FOOT! He was strange I don’t know. Then there was a strobe part and it was the part with the (creepy) chainsaw guy, and it also had some weird mannequin with a Hillary Clinton face on it, for some reason, and I think it had to do with the area we were in. Then besides that nothing else really happened on the hay ride.

During the walk-through attraction, we went through a super dark, foggy tunnel with weird guys who popped out and screamed and I did my high-pitched scream (on purpose) and kept walking. Then I was the leader because I can be and there was a knock-off Jason guy and he was wearing a low-budget hockey mask. I attempted to go around him but I brushed against hay bales and tripped and he then clapped very slowly, and mum laughed at me. Then we got in to a carnival and this guy who led us through it, tricked us into going around in a circle, but the third time we went around we noticed a flap in the wall and we walked through it.

Then, came my favorite part. The Snake Room!!!! So it was this room with a bunch of snakes obviously, and in the corner I noticed it wrote, “The Cuddle Corner,” and I said, “The Cuddle Corner???”

The girl said, “Yes the cuddle corner. Would you like to hold a snake?”

No hesitation at all I said,”YESSSSS!!!”

And that’s how I died of poisoning. Lol! Just kidding! How would I write this? This is it, the end of the post. Be sure to like, comment, and subscribe to see more of me!

It’s Chooch back with “The Adventures of Amethyst”. Sorry to make you wait like Game of Thrones because it’s been 2 years.

Drew looked down, and started to tear up.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope asked Drew concerned.

Then all of a sudden, Drew started to laugh. She was laughing hysterically, so loud that her skin started peeling off revealing a hint of steel.

Penelope saw this and started to shout, “Guys, go! I got this.”

“How do we know?” Garnet asked worried.

“JUST GO!”

Garnet started to turn and dash but realized that they were still on a log flowing rapidly down a river. She remembered about the log and waited for it to pass by. She grabbed Amethyst by the forearm and jumped to the log. Her feet skimmed the water and she lost her grip on Amethyst.

Amethyst screamed, “Help! Quick, find something to pull me out!”

Garnet started breathing heavily, and she looked around. Her hands started to glow, and that’s when she remembered the day her parents had died. The day was October 13, the day of misfortune, and her parents had gone to the Never-ending forest to search for the endangered species of Bloorbs. Bloorbs are a furry, fluffy kind of “Lizard” and they only come out on Friday the 13th. So Garnet had to stay back with her nana, Vrov. She was the meanest, most loudest Nan in the town of Hurghston. Before her parents had gone on the trip, they handed Garnet an amulet. That amulet had a chain around it, so she put it around her neck. Her parents had made it to the forest and gotten out of their jeep, and they got all of their equipment in hand. They had walked about a mile in the forest until they heard a crack in the leaves. They assumed it was a Bloorb because they are the only reptile/mammal around at night on the 13th because all the other animals get frightened and burrow or hide.

They said together, “Litinol!” That is the spell for light.

They tip-toed over to the spot where they had heard the noise and they saw a bit of fluff. Garnet’s mom got the net and trapped it, but it didn’t move.

The dad inferred, “Wait maybe…” He picked up the lizard and it was plastic.

They said, “Oh man, whoever did this is going to die!”

They chanted the spell that explodes the radius around them, but in the middle of it, they felt a shift in their spines. They turned around to see a warrior with a hockey mask and what had been jabbed into their backs had been a machete.

Garnet started to whimper and her eyes started to glow. That flashback had made her exasperated. She grabbed the amulet that was around her neck and closed her eyes. All of a sudden she felt an alteration in her bones. Her hand started to glow even brighter and metal started poking out of her hand. It was getting longer and it started to look like a chain. She decided to throw her hand in the direction of Amethyst and the chain shot in the air towards her. It splashed in the water and Amethyst got soaked, she didn’t care because as long as she wasn’t going to die she was fine. She grabbed on to the chain and Garnet pulled the chain back into her hand. Amethyst had landed on to the land.

Despite that, Penelope and Drew were still on the log speeding down the river. Drew had completely broken in to full animatronic now. She had two metal legs that had bolts missing in certain spots, and her chest area was missing a section completely so she was smoking. Drew had swung her arm at Penelope but she had ducked and heated up her arm in the sleeve of her hoodie. Drew had ducked and kicked Penelope’s shins. Penelope reacted very sharply and almost pushed herself off of the log. Drew laughed and went for a shove but Penelope countered it and pushed Drew back. Drew had saved herself from falling but her finger dipped in the finger slightly and it made a spark. That’s when it hit Penelope. Drew is a robot, so her weakness is water and it will screw up her programming. Penelope cupped her hands and dipped it in water.

Then she said, “Hasta Lavista, Baby,” and she splashed Drew in the spot where she was smoking. The water had steamed up that spot even more and it started flaming. With the flames and all of the sparks, it was like Fourth of July, which Penelope is scared of. She lunged at Drew and landed in the water. She came out with 3rd degree burns on her lips and her neck. Penelope was close enough to the riverbank and she pulled herself up and started coughing up water and ash. She looked back and saw Drew no where. Did she escape? Did she keep going?

To Be Continued…

Our whirlwind trip to Detroit-ish is coming to an end, and I didn’t want to liveblog our drive home because I’m too busy dancing in the passenger seat, much to Henry’s chagrin*. So instead, here is a video & some photos from our quick pit stop at Luna Pier. 

*(Apparently, I’m “the worst navigator” because I get “distracted” and become “too busy dancing.” Do it yourself then, Henry.)

Chooch wanted us to pretend like we were holding guns. Ok. 

We thought it was funny because Pretty Boy Floyd was referenced at a haunted house we went to last week. 

Then we looked for beach glass for approximately 37 seconds before losing interest and leaving. 

I think we still have 2 hours to go because we’ve stopped a million times to make up for not being able to stop hardly at all on the way to Michigan yesterday because we were on a TIGHT SCHEDULE thanks to Henry coming home from work later than intended. 

I’m excited to get home and do KpopX for three hours straight. 

Wednesday was picture day and I decided that I better take my own pre-picture because he never fails to eff up his hair between leaving home and saying “cheese!” or “organic locally-source hummus!” or whatever nutritious PC thing schools pretend to care about these days. 

There are a lot of attitudinal things I dislike about the age 11, but mostly Middle School Chooch has been pretty cool to observe. Dude is serious as fuck about his school work, has a good group of friends (and not that hoodlum DAVID SHITFER*), and is funny as fuck. 

*(NOT HIS REAL NAME.)

Here are some Chooch Tales. 

• Last week we were en route to a haunted house and out of nowhere, he blurted out with passion, “Just once in my life, I want to cut down a tree.”  His anger seemed unreasonable but I’ve never wanted to cut down a tree so who am I to say. 
• Almost every night, we take a walk around the neighbors, just us two, and have spirited conversations about grammar, the characters of Brookline, school drama — it’s so much fun and we always come home with something to tell Henry because Brookline is always poppin’ you guys. Like last night for example, a dead leaf wanted to walk with us so we all skipped down the sidewalk together, and then we overheard a super vitriolic domestic argument coming from one of the houses and it was chilling. 
• Today was parent teacher conferences and I’m proud to say that Chooch is super-loved up in that school. I always feel like I’m walking around with a celeb when I’m there with him. His Communications teacher is this older black woman who is challenging him so hard and I love her for it. She said he is one of only two people in the class who has an A because everyone else is having such a hard time adjusting to middle school. Then we ran into his Second Family who I have actually never met and the mom came over and gave me a big hug and gushed about how much they love having Chooch over and how he is the spitting image of me. The communications teacher said it too! I love when this happens because it feels like I scored a point against all the jerkbuns who say he looks like Henry. Then we chilled with the VP and talked about PVRIS because that’s what level we’re on over there. Oh! And his one teacher from last year shouted down the hall, “What’s up Riley! You going to see GWAR this weekend?” because now he’s notorious with some of the male teachers  for meeting GWAR at Warped Tour lol. 
• Hey speaking of Chooch’s celebrity status, we were on a family walk (lol) back from the local coffee joint when some broad yelled hello to Chooch from her car. Who the fuck was that, I asked. Oh, she lives across from Bob. She has two Corgis. Bob, you may remember, is the older man a few streets away who Chooch befriended because he too has a Corgi. Chooch has so many neighborhood friends. Which reminds me that I never wrote about his cookie dough sales from last month. There’s a lot of words for that one so I’ll have to get back to you. 
• In case you were wondering, Chooch still hates pretty much everything that I like. Today, he said, “ugh I just noticed that you’re using a kimchi jar as a succulent pot.” His voice was full of disgust and contempt. Two of his least-favorite things about me, colliding!
• Chooch wants to be this alligator hoop skirt thing for Halloween, thanks Wicker Man pagan procession:

(Henry just yelled THERE IS NOT ENOUGH TIME!)

• Chooch’s favorite Kpop song is GO GO by BTS. 
• He’s excited to go to South Korea because they have a raccoon cafe, it’s all he cares about. Of all the millions of awesome things there….

I guess that’s it for now. We’re currently en route to Royal Oak, Michigan and I need to talk Henry’s ear off. 

PEACE OUT GIRL SCOUT. 

There was this cute cafe down the street from my work that I liked – Umbrella Cafe. I mean, technically I was only there twice, but the one time I had some kind of vegetarian goulash that made me feel like I was making out with a Romanian. It was wonderful and rustic!

Anyway, like most good things, it closed up around the beginning of summer and I was so sad. “You act like you ate there everyday,” Henry scoffed. (I guess I do this a lot.)

Shortly after, a large piece of paper went over the window that said “Bae Bae’s Kitchen coming soon” with a cute little outline of a house. For some reason, I thought that maybe it was going to be Southern comfort food? I kept picturing someone’s adorable grandmother who goes by the name Bae Bae, pulling out some fucking delicious corn bread from an oven and setting it down next to a platter of fried okra.

Months went by without an update, until one day a few weeks ago, there was a new sign next to the door, kind of not easy to see unless you’re actively searching for clues, which I was (I have little going on in my life, you guys, please let me have some thrills). On this new sign, I saw my favorite word in the whole entire world: KOREAN.

A FREAKING KOREAN RESTAURANT WAS GOING IN DOWNTOWN!

Immediately though, I wondered if it was going to be some kind of American-Korean bastardization because it seems like all of the “hip” American restaurants lately have some kind of twist to Korean cuisine on the menu. And Pittsburgh has very few traditional Korean restaurants. So I wondered.

Finally, it opened, but of course it was the week I was off work. Several people texted me about it and I was like HELLO I HAVE BEEN ALL OVER THIS. Lori said she would go with me, because she was with me one of the two whole times I went to the Umbrella Cafe, so it seemed fitting to ask her. But then she wasn’t at work on Monday or Tuesday and I wasn’t sure of her whereabouts and didn’t even consider to check the department calendar. I figured I would just wait it out. I’d make it there sooner or later.

But then! I walked past it yesterday on my break and my heartstrings were all sorts of tugged and tangled. I started to keep walking but then something in my gut stopped me and I backpedaled my ass straight into Bae’s Bae’s Kitchen, where I was greeted by a friendly Korean girl wearing a bandanna in her hair, and I was immediately so happy, why am I this way.

This is one of those joints where you order at the counter, so I walked up with a purpose and when the guy behind it said hello to me, I blurted out, “I HAVE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE” and he was like, “OK! Let me help you…” He started explaining to me what various menu items were and I was trying so hard not to be a Hallyu know-it-all, so I just kept nodding and let him finish. I asked if the kimbap (I pronounced it the correct way, thanks) had meat in it, and he showed me that there was also a vegan version.

“Are you vegan?” he asked, and I said I was just vegetarian.

“I just pretend like I don’t know that kimchi is made with anchovies,” I laughed.

“I’m pescatarian, myself,” he said, and I savored this beautiful moment of camaraderie. I WAS HOME. Then he started to explain to me what japchae is and I was like, “Dude, I have like four bags of that in my house right now” except that I just smiled giddily instead.  You guys, you should have seen me. I was literally bouncing from foot to foot with my hands clasped under my chin.

I had already eaten my daily oatmeal lunch (I’m a sad person), so I decided to just get something light for that day. I opted for a take-out container of vegan kimbap, kimchi, and milk tea.

“Do you want boba in that?” he asked me, and when I exclaimed, “Yes!” he gave me a smile of approval.

“You get to pick a straw!” he said, offering me a selection of fat, neon straws. I picked pink, of course. And then he handed me my receipt with both hands!!!!!!

While I waited for him to finish making my milk tea, I gushed about how excited I was that they opened up downtown, and he thanked me. I wanted to be like, “I AM GOING TO SOUTH KOREA NEXT MARCH!” and also “DO YOU LIKE RUNNING MAN?!!?!?” but I took deep breaths and forced myself to bring it down a notch.

“There are utensils over there,” he said, pointing across the restaurant and in my head I was like, “LOL, OK, I have chopsticks in my desk, but thanks.”

I wanted to take some pictures of the interior and the menu, but I was the only one in there (it was after 2pm, so kind of an off-hour) and felt like everyone working there was paying attention to me. So I left with my food and immediately called Henry.

“Was he Korean?” he asked me after I told him about my exchange with the guy at the counter. Like I said, we weren’t sure if this was going to be some Americanized joint, so it was a valid question.

“Yes, they all were,” I answered.

“Did you just say ‘we all were’?!” Henry asked incredulously.

“No, I said they all were…” I said, but to be honest, I was a bit unsure and kept trying to play it back in my head.

“You totally said ‘we.’ Wow, what a Freudian slip,” Henry laughed. Fuck off Henry.

***

I was still on a Bae Bae’s high today and was telling some of my co-workers about it.

“You could have just checked the calendar!” Lori said when I told her I went without her because I didn’t know when she was going to be back in the office. “We could have went today!” And then later, I accidentally left her off of a department-wide email, so I’m losing points with her left and right. Now she will never make me another Special Event countdown calendar!

Meanwhile, I had talked such a good game that Todd was totally geared up to check this place out today for lunch.

“Where is it, again?” he asked.

“It’s down by where my favorite homeless person sits,” I said matter-of-factly, and Todd knew exactly where I meant because I have dragged everyone down into my crazed abyss. Unfortunately, Todd was on late shift today so he got to Bae Bae’s at 4 and apparently they were only serving drinks at that time because they were preparing to open back up for dinner at 5.

Lauren said she could appreciate that, but Todd was all, “I walked so far out of my normal radius for that!” But then Amber suggested that maybe our next group team building exercise could be lunch at Bae Bae’s. SHE IS THE BEST!

(Would it be embarrassing if I ask them if they’re named after a BIGBANG song?)

Friday, October 13, 2017 we went to Dark View in Toronto, Ohio with Janna and it was sweet.

In this picture I’m biting my nails because I’m “spooked”.

It was chilly while we were there and of course, like most haunted houses, there was smoke so it smelled like (smoke?).

We were waiting for some one else to get in line so we weren’t the first people because that would be really annoying and we would be the first targets and we would be the first people the guys terrorize.

I guess it was a bad idea to wait because we were the second people but we had to wait for like three more groups because of FREAKING V.I.P! V.IP always ruins everything. The host dude thing guy was telling us a (fake? true?) story, it was debatable.

It was normal and it was definitely a fake story because it was like “Pretty Boy Floyd was killed by my Grandfather. Don’t believe that the government killed him.”

Then it took a dark turn and it kind of sounded true because you wouldn’t make stuff up like this, and in the rural Trump-lovin’ area we were in, it was definitely true. Then since our groups were switched because V.I.P took half of our group we were left with these three pre-adults and they were cool, not annoying at all. (no for real, not sarcasm).

Then the three guys had to get marked to get in, but before that he had to give someone his flashlight and walking stick so he gave them to mum and she was like super excited. (I was forced to write this. Lol). Then the guy drew a butt on one of their wrists and then on the other was a spaghetti factory throwing up or something.

Then those three guys didn’t hear the story so the man was like, “I will tell you guys the history of this house.”

Then I said, “Ugh!”

He glanced at me and said, “OK, you don’t have to hear it.”

So he told the story and I stood there and waited, then we were finally going to go but the guy, let’s call him Sal, grabbed me by the shoulder and said, “You’re going first.”

I said, “Umm, No thank you.” And I walked back to our group.

He pulled me back and said, “You’re going first.

”

So I went with it and walked in the shed which we had to go in before we did the attractions.

I sat at the end of one of the benches that were in there but the guy tapped me on the shoulder again and said, “No, you sit here,” as he pointed to the middle of the bench.

I asked, “Why?”

He walked away and closed the door, then the lights shut off and some dragon thing started moving and talking, it was just going over the rules like ,”Don’t touch anything, and nothing will touch you,” Boring… *Snore*

One part in the house we went into some ritual room to keep the ghosts away, and we had to do a chant (I don’t remember it, I think it was German or Russian or Gibberish) but at one point we had to form a circle and hold each others hand but when it came to daddy and one of the kids to hold each others hand, he refused. Which made the kid sad. (He cried, go to his Go Fund Me page and donate money to cure him of his depression) Comment #CureThatKid if you made it this far!

Then there was a trail and there a tree dude and I said, “Groot!” but he ignored me. );

But there was also a leaf guy and I said, “Groot’s brother!” but he also ignored me. )’:

That was the end of my sadness but then it was my joy because Michael Myers was there and I could say that mum loves him and he can follow her, which he did.

Finally we made it to a circus and it was AMAZING.

There was the main clown who lead us through the whole time and we met him at the Kissing Booth and he asked, “Does anyone want to kiss?

”

He looked at daddy and said, “How ’bout you, you Big Beautiful Bearded Man, wanna give me a kiss?”

But yet again Henry made another person sad, because he likes to spread his hate all over.

So the clown led us and then this fat guy peeked over the fence and started talking to us.

“Who’s excited to see The Fat Man?? I have eyes and a smile on my belly!”

Then the main clown was like, “No one does, go away,”

Then some conversation was going on but I forget most of it.

Then we went through a maze and I lead because I’m a beautiful Corgi, and I hit a dead end then I turned around and pulled another flap and saw a guy in a hat standing there, but I squeezed passed him and exited.

Then we ended up with the fat man guy, but before that there was a gymnast who was saying, “If you liked it clap twice, and if you don’t like it clap twice because he will beat me,” and he pointed at the main clown.

He ended up doing *pretty* bad but with all gave him like fifteen claps.

The fat man didn’t really do anything except make the face on his belly talk, and then he told us to go through this cushioned tunnel and tell the guys at the end that Fatso sent us.

We got to the end and of course I was leading so I got jump-scared by an air-horn. I guess it was the end because we were getting our picture taken.

When we were standing there, there was a cannon going down and I guess going to shoot but when it hit zero we all flinched, it took our picture, and it splashed us with water. That was very unexpected but I knew something was going to happen, I’m sure everyone else did too.

Overall, it was amazing. My favorite part was when “Groot” came out because he was so cool. But since I want to get to 1000 words, I’m going to write a few more. If I had to pick another part I would say the maze because I like leading! Bye guys and gals!

Me: This song makes me feel so sad. Like cripplingly sad. Like full-body sadness. 

Henry: Then why do you listen to it?

Me: Because I love it…?

God he asks stupid fucking questions. 

Anyway, I’m certain I’ve posted this video before but oh well it’s too good not to share again. It wasn’t really feeling like October to me (maybe the 80 degree weather?) but then I put this on the other day and yeah, there’s October. I was ready to pumpkin the FUCK out of this month after that. 

I’ve been home all week, maybe I mentioned it earlier but I can’t remember. It’s been a long week you guys. I don’t do the whole “relaxing” thing. I can’t binge-watch shows in my PJs. Instead I’ve just been acting like I’m on speed all week yet I feel like I’ve accomplished NOTHING. It’s been a weird week. I can’t explain it but I feel disoriented and not myself at all. 

Also, this week has taught me that I really don’t like being alone. Here are two pictures of me forcing Peenlop to hang out with me. Ugh. 

I’m going to a haunted house now. Bye. 

September was a decent month. I really can’t complain. We went to Chicago; I saw Taeyang and Emarosa; BTS released a new album and it’s jam-packed with, well, jams. And Blake and Haley moved super close to us!

We took Blake and Calvin to Parker’s for breakfast last Saturday. There was a nice morning bustle happening there and it pleased me greatly to see this place getting some action. Blake was impressed by the aesthetics. It’s something that Brookline was in desperate need of, you guys. Something cool.

Chooch was stoked because he finally found someone to play games with (Parker’s has several shelves of games) and this is also how we learned that Chooch sucks at Guess Who. Like, maybe he’s trying to abolish gender norms but he never asks, “Is it a boy or girl?” which is like the standard #1 question to ask when playing this game. But he’s like, “Is it a ginger?” “Does it have brown eyes?” “Is it kind of fat but not?”

My favorite part was when one of the moms from Chooch’s old school rolled in and was going to sit next to us until she saw me and then awkwardly said, “OK let’s sit over here,” and moved to a different table. LOL ALL THE WAY TO HELL.

Ooh, then I found this great comforter just when we were in need of a new one! Henry only said no because “it’s too expensive” and not because it’s Bigbang. I can only imagine the bitchfest this would cause from some people. “OMG she doesn’t let him sleep ever, but when she does, it’s under a bunch of Asian boys!” Yes, Henry’s life clearly sucks so hard.

My favorite part about this is that G-Dragon is in the middle and that’s pretty much where I sleep.

We went to the first haunt of the season! You can read Chooch’s review here. (He really put a lot of effort into it because he knew he was earning $5 worth of Robux whatever that even is, I don’t ask.) I’m worried that we won’t get very many haunted houses in this season because our weekends are jacked but I’m off all next week so I’m going to try to squeeze some in during the week! Some of them are open on Wednesdays and Thursdays, which benefits me and we all know it’s all about me. My co-workers remind themselves about this all the time.

Obligatory truck stop bathroom selfie. You guys, we originally stopped at a Sheetz and it was the first time ever that I encountered a filthy, unusable restroom in a Sheetz. Every toilet was packed with poop and there were wads of wet, soiled toilet paper everywhere (hold on…..I’m burping up vomit). I WAS SO ANGRY. It was out in a rural area too so as we left the store, I loudly said, “FUCKING REDNECKS PROBABLY SIT ON THE TOILET, CHEERING FOR TRUMP WHILE SHITTING OUT THEIR BEEF JERKY EVERYWHERE” and Chooch started choking because he was laughing so hard, and Henry was like, “Please don’t make these truckers and hunters converge on us, thanks.” We drove for a little bit and I used the bathroom at an actual truck stop and it was so clean and wonderful. SHEETZ, YOU’RE GETTING A LETTER FROM ME. HOW YOU DARE. 

What else…Henry and I watched “Lavender” Sunday night, some horror movie with Abbie Cornish and my takeaway from that is that she’s a pretty terrible actor. The movie was more sad than anything, but there were some creepy parts. I’m not sure that I would go out of my way to recommend it though.

I also spent some time trying to teach Henry all the members of BTS because previously he just thought everyone was Jimin, because that’s a 52-year-old white American man for you I guess. Like, he came home one day last week and said, “I saw Jimin’s dog died” because he gets notifications from AllKpop and complains about it YET DOES NOTHING ABOUT IT. And I was like “Ok but it was actually Jin’s dog, nice try.” Anyway, now my friend Lizz (the only other kpop-loving friend I have!) and I are certain this means Jimin is Henry’s secret bias. 

And now I’m going to go and get ready to show my friends Maya and Scott around Pittsburgh because they’re visiting for the first time from Tennessee! And tomorrow is the pie party! #stress

One evening last week, Blake was like, “Hey can you guys watch Calvin while I do laundry” and of course we were like um fuck yes. These are things that happen now that Blake and Haley live literally a five-minute walk away. It’s pretty awesome, if we’re being frank up in here.

BUT. When Blake got here, he set down Calvin in his carrier and said, “OK, I’m taking this guy with me to help with laundry” and there was this split second when I thought he meant he was taking Henry and my heart almost jettisoned out of my chest because DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH A BABY, OMG HELP SOS.

Thank god he was talking about taking Chooch with him, not Henry. Then I was all, “Oh ha ha ha, I knew that’s what you meant, lol.”

But I mean, fucking phew, amirite.

These pictures are really terrible quality. I think my phone is dying or something.

Henry was in the middle of making dinner when Blake dropped off Calvin, so I got to chill with him a bit and make sure he didn’t stick his fingers in any sockets or whatnot. We got along pretty well! He seemed interested in my dumb face, and we watched kpop videos together and he smiled a lot, but you know, could have just been gas.

I even held him for approximately one minute!

That was when I finally found a name for Calvin to call me: NOONA! In Korean, it’s what boys call their big sisters and older girls in general. Blake and Haley approved it, so there.

Penelope is scared to death of strangers but she was super interested in the small babe, surprisingly.

Henry is a pretty good grandfather, I guess. He makes dumb baby noises though and I’m just like, “Please stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Calvin’s new friends, Leatherface and Pennywise.

Calvin doesn’t stay still long enough to not be a blur. It’s like taking a picture of someone who’s just watched that video in “The Ring.”

And this was after our breakfast at Parker’s on Saturday! I love this. And Chooch loves having Blake within walking distance. (Not sure how Haley feels about that though. J/K, I have a pretty good idea!

)

I went from “I’m not decorating at work this year” to “I just spent an hour on the floor cutting out branches.” 

Please enjoy this video while I soak my arthritic hands in… whatever you soak arthritic hands in.  I kind of want henry to break up with me briefly so I can sing to him. 

Some snaps were snatched last weekend and here they are. 

Blake and Haley moved down the street from us so Chooch has waved the white flag, cried uncle, “if you can’t beat ’em join ’em”d and finally acknowledged his nephew Calvin. It was pretty adorable. I think they’re going to get along just fine. <3

(Also, Chooch, Blake and Haley went outside & Calvin started crying so while Henry was holding him I showed him the BTS “Go Go” comeback stage and he was ENRAPTURED. Haley came back in and sighed, “Are you showing him kpop?” Just called me Mary Kpoppins. OMG DID I JUST COME UP WITH MY KOREAN ROLLER DERBY NAME?)

The cats did cat things. 

And Amber1 had a bridal shower! 

Summer and Wendy were also in attendance. I am trying desperately to win Summer’s affection (or just plain attention at this point).

We made slight progress. She’s fine as long as I don’t look at her or talk to her. 

The table settings were so pretty and perfectly Amber!

There was a quiz to see who knows the bride best; I didn’t win but I had a higher score than Wendy so that’s all that matters. 

All parties should have a mimosa bar, you know? 

I’m really excited for Amber and Brian! Thy deserve all the happiness in the world!

“Stand there and pretend like I didn’t tell you to stand there.” We stopped at some healthy beverage establishment right before the Emarosa show and this is Chooch drinking some plant-based chocolate smoothie that I thought he was going to hate because it cost like $8 but he loved it and said he wants to drink one everyday and I was like “NOT AT THAT PRICE.”

Oh, you saw I mentioned Emarosa? Yeah we saw them. It was OK. SIKE IT WAS FUCKING FANTASTIC. I will write a full recap in a minute but probably tomorrow. Or Sunday. I’m the worst. 

Not pictured: the woman who made the sign of the cross on herself and the man so fucked up that he fell over as soon he walked inside CVS. I was standing outside with them waiting for the store to open last Saturday morning and we all walked in together. After the man fell, the manager turned around and looked at us like we were a family and I had to make an urgent IM NOT WITH THEM face at him. 

https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1E4TSmVnbeHE4z?si=XGyRbVGw

Spotify’s time capsule feature is so accurate, I’m actually scared a little. Every song (the exception being only Warrant because no) either has special meaning or was just a jam that I liked at some point as a kid. How, Spotify, how? They even threw in a track from the Bram Stoker’s Dracula soundtrack and you KNOW I had that soundtrack. 

AND MICK SMILEY’S MAGIC. 

I’m shook. 

OMG now I need to see Henry’s. 

I’m not over here blowing on my fingertips or anything, but I am basically the (un)official Pittsburgh haunted house tip line, OK? Of all the things to be an expert of….Anyway, I decided to repost this thing I wrote a few years ago since it’s the beginning of the haunted house season and people* are already asking me questions about which places to take their kids to, etc. Even though some of the things in this are dated (some of the referenced haunts aren’t around anymore), it’s still PRETTY HELPFUL — so read it, don’t read it, print it out and send me your heavily red-lined copy of it — it’s a free country. Also, if you live in Pittsburgh and want to go to a haunted house with me and Chooch, WHY YES WE WOULD LOVE TO.

*(Real ones, too! Not imaginary ones like usually.)

****

Every Halloween season, I get pretty nostalgic about the “old days.” Way back in the age of flowing flannels and Contempo Casuals (where I would buy all of my slutty “I’m a slut who has money” slut uniforms), it was possible to go to two, sometimes even THREE haunted houses in one night for under $20. True story! It seemed like every last VFW, YMCA and Boy Scout Troop had hoarded enough black garbage bags over the course of a year and used their dues to stock up on slipshod Halloween masks from K-Mart to pull off a “haunted house.” And it may have been hokey and rudimentary, full of blacklit Jason Voorhees masks and “accidental” boob-brushes, but fuck if it wasn’t fun.

In high school, I would scour the newspaper for haunted house ads and then my friend Lisa and I would stuff her parents minivan with our ragamuffin group of friends and proceeded to exercise our god-given vocal prowess. We were Those Kids that everyone else hated standing in line with. And I was That Girl who flirted obnoxiously with Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers, hoping to make my crush Evan jealous. (HE NEVER EVEN NOTICED.) There was the Bethel Park Haunted Yard, Clairton’s Haunted Pool, the Glassport Haunted Fire Station, and then all of the Haunted Schools: Castle Shannon, Victory, the Tri-City Jaycees one that I lost my keys in and then it burnt down (no correlation to my keys). Before there was Hundred Acres Manor, there was Phantoms in the Park and Terrors By the Lake. Before Kennywood had their Fright Nights, Station Square transformed into Station Scare and offered carnival rides just in case all of the fog machines, hyper-jealous boyfriends and diet pills* didn’t get you nauseated enough.

*(What? My weight issues go waaaay back.)

But then the behemoth, corporate haunted houses started popping up and taking over. The ones that pay to have haunted house listings and the Travel Channel call them the #1 Haunted Attraction. The ones that make you wait in line for upwards of 3 hours because OMG WE ARE THE BEST IN THE BIZ SO STAND AND WAIT, JAGOFFS. They pour loads of money into their advertising, production and animatronics, but they lack the true Halloween spirit and moxie that the smaller haunted joints have. Money can’t buy moxie, you guys. I’d rather walk through a haunted trail lit by flaming jugs of moonshine in some hick’s backyard than give those corporate bastards my money, if we’re being totally frank here.

People are usually shocked when I start waxing contrary about the city’s most popular haunted attractions, so I have compiled a list to offer some insight into what makes a “good” haunted house.

Here is the official Oh Honestly Erin Haunted House Criteria:

1. Will There Be Chainsaws?

It doesn’t matter how many times Henry exasperatedly assures me that there are no chains on the chainsaws, the moment I hear that whirring, no matter how far away it is, I am suddenly in booty shorts at Camp Crystal Lake and Jason Voorhees is mad as fuck because I just had sex on a hammock, and where the hell did this adrenaline come from? I don’t know, but look! I can scale the backs of the people in front of me!

Even when I’m standing in line chanting, “I hope there are no chainsaws. I hope there are no chainsaws” the truth is that there better be at least one fucking chainsaw guy who takes his position really fucking seriously because I just gave you $15 to scare the shit out of me, so please, do just that. Henry does my laundry, so what do I care.

*THIS SEASON’S UNOFFICIAL WINNER*: Chainsaw Guy at Cheeseman Fright Farm. It was really cold that night on that bale of hay, and your persistent wielding provided warmth to my shivering extremities. Also, you didn’t give up even when I used my 7-year-old son as a shield. Good for you, Ambitious Non-Hockey Mask-Wearing Chainsaw Guy. You were way better than the apathetic Voorhees-wannabe at Freddy’s Haunts who whir-whir-whirred for approximately 10 seconds before walking away.

2. Will There Be the Possibility of Simulated Horror Porn by Michael Myers?

So, maybe it’s just me, but when I’m singled out in a crowd by some dude who looks like his face got violently bear-hugged by bologna slices and green olives, maybe even corners me and snorts and snarls in my ear, I am REALLY FUCKING EXCITED to be there at that haunted attraction. Especially if it’s a particularly sexy-savage Michael Myers. And for those 30 seconds you’re towering over me with your fake machete and vacant eyes, I promise to pretend that you’re not actually some pizza-faced 17-year-old band nerd. NO, YOU ARE A FUCKING HOT PSYCHOPATH WHOSE EVERY PRIMAL INSTINCT IS TELLING YOU TO KILL ME, BUT WAIT! WHAT’S THAT!? YOU ARE FALLING IN LOVE WITH THIS CHUBBY MOM-BROAD WHO IS SCREAMING HER FACE OFF!

And then I’ll go home and write about it in my haunted house journal and it goes something like this: Holy fuck, I am so hot for Michael Myers! I bet he doesn’t pay that much attention to anyone else in that wing of the haunted maze! When we made eye contact, I think he winked at me but it was hard to see over the strobe lights. AND SPEAKING OF HARD! I’m not sure if that was Michael’s tumescent cock-machete or the Pizza-Faced-Kid-Dressed-As-Him’s satchel of dork dice, but I’m totally probably maybe pregnant now, you guys, right?

Just to really illustrate my alarming Michael Myers crush, my kid wouldn’t exist today if I hadn’t thought his dumb dad looked like Michael Myers when he would wear his stupid blue Weiss Meats coveralls back when we were co-workers in 2001. THAT IS WHAT MADE ME WANT TO SLEEP WITH HIM, OK?

Anyway…

*THIS SEASON’S UNOFFICIAL WINNER*: Rich’s Fright Farm Michael Myers. You smashed your fist into the wall in front of me every time I tried to escape and at one point BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES while Janna stood off to the side, staring at her imaginary watch. I could feel your hot murderous breath on my neck and it was, well, fucking hot. Now your demon seed is sprouting inside my womb. Womb, womb, womb.

3. Will Someone Please Entertain the Fuck Out of Me?

Hi. I just dropped the cost of a concert ticket* down on your haunted establishment, so please prove to me that I didn’t make a mistake. *(What? I like underground bands, you guys.) If you’re charging me approx. $18 for 30 minutes, then I better come out the other end feeling like I just came. I mean, feeling entertained. Ridicule my blondness with your biting wit! Tickle my eyeballs with your macabre decor! Make me follow directions! Engage me! (No really—do you want to get engaged? Because Henry apparently doesn’t.) Pay attention to me, to me, to me!

*THIS SEASON’S UNOFFICIAL WINNER*: Castle Blood, duh. You still never fail to call me out for being a dum-dum. (Remembering three talisman is trying. IT’S HARD FOR ME TO PAY ATTENTION, OK!?) You still make me believe I’m going to be poisoned in Professor Scrye’s lab and turned into mortal mana pua by some convincingly realistic witch. (I don’t know why I picked a Hawaiian food that I have never eaten.)

But let me tell you something about this sanguine estate—if you came looking for chainsaws and robotic corpses hemorrhaging on toilets, queue the Sad Tuba soundbite. This is half past Saw, more toward Nosferatu. Castle Blood’s tagline is “Halloween the way it oughta be” and they mean it. It’s elegant and unique, it’s intelligent and interactive, it’s humble and passionate about the season. I’ve been going to Castle Blood since the late 90s and it’s still just as refreshing and inspiring as it was when I was a teenager. We’ve been taking Chooch since he was a baby (first to the no-scare matinees; he’s since graduated to the nighttime tours) and he loves it because it’s magical while still maintaining a high creep-factor—-plus, sometimes Henry gets presented with a death certificate.

4. Will You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman Teenager Again?

As previously mentioned, I long for the old-school haunts of yore. The ones in vacant buildings that charge $12 and under and probably meet the safety standards of a treehouse in 1954. The ones that aren’t mentioned in the obligatory WHAT TO DO THIS OCTOBER newspaper write-up or any of the haunted house listings online. The small haunted house put together by members of a local community and advertise by tacking up flyers in Spirit Halloween stores or sticking bright orange signs in the ground next to the highway. I like giving these people my monies! They know how to crack me up while also making me pee my pants. (I had a longstanding reputation at the now-defunct Victory Haunted School, and every year, from the moment I set foot inside, the “monsters” would start chanting, “Erin’s here! Erin peed her pants!” So fucking obnoxious but I loved every second of it.

If I’m in such pitch-blackness that I need to walk with outstretched arms while simultaneously screaming to no one and everyone that I AM SO FUCKING SCARED OMG WAS THAT A BREAST I JUST TOUCHED, then this haunted house rules. If I’m told, “GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES AND CRAWL THROUGH THE TUNNEL OF LOVE…OR DEATH!” and I literally find myself scrambling on my hands and knees over top of what I really really really hope are pieces of a CLEAN mattress and I start screaming about how I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE TO DO THIS! I AM SO SCARED! OW I JUST HURT MYSELF! then this haunted house rules. If the volunteers are so over-the-top with their theatrical lines and fake gunfire that I am literally doing pee-squats from laughing so hard, then this haunted house rules. If I tell the guide that my name is Erin and he decides that “Smellvin” is a better name even though that would only make sense if my name was Melvin, but everyone else thinks it’s hilarious, then this haunted house rules. If some kid pops out of nowhere and freaking feeds me a mouthful of Silly String and even HENRY laughs, then this haunted house rules.

*THIS SEASON’S UNOFFICIAL WINNER*: Ohmygod it’s a tie! Teen Quest’s Scaremare in Mon City and the haunted basement of the Sewickley United Methodist Church. Can we please admire the irony here, that two of this heathen’s favorite haunted houses are Christian-based? IDGAF, these two haunts made me laugh until I almost peed. (ALMOST, I swear!) It was like being in high school again, faced with the threat of falling down a staircase and inhaling asbestos. And the volunteers at these two places had way more enthusiasm than any of the ones anywhere else, especially Terror Town, who apparently pays their actors and that is just ridiculous because for the last two years, their “employees” were relatively ineffective and I’m officially done giving them Henry’s hard-earned Faygo money. Especially after seeing one of those “actors” on Facebook turn her nose up at people who, god forbid, volunteer their time to play zombies. The people at Scaremare and the church in Sewickley had HEART. The church even had a babydoll displayed in a very horrific, decidedly un-Christian way! I applaud them for that, for being able to recognize that it’s OK to be outrageous and controversial in the name of Halloween, and for being so balls-to-the-wall. I actually wish I had the time to revisit both of these places this month. Even if it’s just essentially dropping money into a collection plate. I’m OK with that.

5. Do You Have a Worthy Haunted House Companion?

Chances are, during this season you are going to sometimes be driving great distances and are probably going to get lost at least twice (are you going to a hayride on some jackass’s farm? Yeah, good luck trusting your GPS with that), so you better make sure you don’t bring some douchebag along with you who is going to drive you so insane that you need to buy your first pack of Camel Wides in 7 years at some sketchy gas station in the middle of downtown Sharon, PA. (True story.) And then once you’ve arrived at the haunt, you might be standing in line for an hour at least. DON’T BRING A DUD OR YOU ARE FU-HAHAHAHA-UCKED. I was lucky this year and have gone to haunted houses with quality peeps (and Henry), but I have been pretty unfortunate in the past. Your company can make or break the haunted house experience, especially if you are so fucking over-the-top annoyed at who’s ripping your shirt in faux-fear that you forget about the actual haunted house itself. Did you like it? WHO EVEN FUCKING KNOWS?!

*THIS SEASON’S UNOFFICIAL WINNER*: And the award goes to my good friend Janna. No one handles being pushed and shoved into chainsaw guys with quite the panache as she, nor can anyone tolerate my extreme giddiness with such a steely veil of patience. Except Henry, but he hates going to haunted houses. I like to believe that every time I scream, and I mean SCREAM, “JANNNNNNAAAA LOOOOOOK OUTTTTT!” that I’m actually saving her life for real. And she just kind of chuckles a little at first, but by the end of the night, I sometimes detect some eye-rolling and sighing.

________________________

Those are my unofficial winners because I still have at least four more haunts to attend before Christmas starts shitting all over my fun. And remember, all of this is subjective. The things that I look for in a haunted house might not be the same things that make you scream like Laurie Strode or make popular local radio DJs jack off into each others’ cupped hands. If your haunt isn’t going to be gonzo enough to scare the FUCK out of me, at least entertain me. Make me laugh, make me push Janna into a chainsaw guy, have a hot Michael Myers, make me have some F-U-N if I’m giving you twenty goddamn dollars out of Poor Henry’s wallet.

(And let me just tell you, now that Chooch is brave enough to go to every haunted house with me, October is officially waaaaay more costly than December.)

Some extra tips:

• Look for coupons! Sometimes haunted houses will offer them on their website. Hundred Acres Manor usually offers $3 off coupons at Eat n Park or Burger King. (They’re only good on Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday nights, I believe.) And you know, check Groupon and Living Social or have a boss that forwards every single haunted house deal to you like I do. Maybe stop in your local corner pub and gather up enough barflies to qualify for a group rate. Just trying to save you some bucks, OK?
• Go on off-nights! If a haunted house is open on a Sunday or Wednesday night—GO THEN! You will beat the crowds and probably have a better victim:monster ratio. Have you ever gone through a haunted house with just the one person you arrived with? SCARY AS FUCK. Real talk.
• Try to remember that no haunt is perfect and “bad nights” can be expected. Maybe I went to Cheeseman’s Fright Farm last weekend and had a blast, but you went earlier in the month on a night where they happened to have a lot of volunteer no-shows. Shit happens, ya’ll, and most of it is behind the scenes. This is why I try not to do too much bashing. (And believe me, I’ve been to a few duds this year.)
• If you go to a haunted trail after it’s been raining all day, you’re PROBABLY GOING TO GET MUDDY. Don’t be that dickhead who complains about it. Maybe you should have stayed home and watched a Duck Dynasty marathon instead.
• Bitching about standing in line isn’t going to make the line move any faster and pro tip: NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR YOUR STUPID YINZER MONOLOGUE ABOUT IT, EITHER.
• Pretend that you are actually running for your life. BECAUSE YOU JUST NEVER KNOW.

Hey! Why don’t you leave me a comment and tell me about your best (or…worst) haunted house experience?

You know how some people love doing nothing on their days off? I’m not one of them BUT HENRY IS.

Shocking, I know.

We kept our Riot Fest days off (Thursday-Monday) and figured we’d just use the time to get stuff done around the house.

NOTHING GOT DONE AROUND THE HOUSE.

Here are some bulletpoints to illustrate just how boring my time off of work was. (I even threatened to go back to work on Monday because Henry was just flat out entertaining me.)

• I renewed my drivers license! Yeah, staycation was off to a great start. Usually I’m alone when this occurs but this time Henry had the pleasure of accompanying me to AAA and watching in mild disdain as I sat, holding my #10 ticket, feet tapping maniacally out of rampant nerves. Every time the next number would get called, I’d moan, “OH MY GOD, IT’S SO CLOSE TO MY TURN. OH, MY STOMACH HURTS. OH, I’M GOING TO PUKE. OH, I’M GOING TO PASS OUT.” Henry was like, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?” I just hate having my picture taken, especially a state-mandated photo. It just feels so mug-shottish to me (not that I would know what that feels like—I’ve never gone to jail. Yet, anyway.) And the guy who was calling the numbers just seemed so mean and official. Yet, when #10 was called and I walked over with my head down, like I was walking to stand before the firing squad, I blurted out, “I AM SO NERVOUS YOU GUYS LIKE I AM AT THE DENTIST” to the man and the women sitting at the desks behind him. They looked at me with these twisted faces of confusion and then just the man asked, “What, why?” My anxiety sometimes trumps my social filter and I suddenly become giddily & inexplicably chatty. I explained that I just hate having my picture taken, and then I tried to get the guy and one of the photo-takers to feel my clammy hands, but they declined. Then when my license was printed and laminated or whatever it is they do back there in secret, the guy who I thought was going to be super stern and impenetrable poked his head out and in a sweetly chiding sing-song tone called out, “Oh, Erin!” and everyone around us chuckled because, well, oh Erin.
  • I hate my new picture. I have never really hated any of my licenses, but I hate this one because they changed the format and now it’s even more of a close-up so now my license is like ALL ERIN. SO MUCH ERIN. And also I was bullied by the photo lady to pick the second picture she took because my smile looked “more real” in that one which just means I look like a fucking doof because my smile is terrible! (And not because of my teeth—because of my stupidly crooked/chubby face.
• Hey, speaking of dentists and teeth! Guess what else I did? I made an appointment with a new dentist. Wait, let me back up. A few weeks ago, I called my dentist to make a long overdue appointment. So what happened was, my dentist moved into an office with some other dentist and severely cut back her hours, and on top of that the other dentist’s receptionist is like, the worst. She was so hard to work with that all of my calls would end up with me frustrated and saying I would just call back. So three years went by and in the meantime, I started to feel like my teeth were shifting and then I was having nightmares about losing teeth (YES I KNOW THAT MEANS A THING, SHUT IT) and finally I reasoned with myself that my mom had spent a shit ton of money on my teeth (I’m not kidding — I had braces for like 8 years and my orthodontists actually tried something new on me which was a success and then got to use my x-rays, etc at Orthodontics conventions for years after that) so I should probably get myself in that chair before it was all done in vain. And when I called, that awful receptionist said to me in her nasally whine, “Oh, the doctor is actually retiring in two weeks.” So this is the point in the phone call where my voice started to escalate in volume and my heart was beating rapidly and the whole script I had mentally prepared flew out the window along with 30 years of (mostly fond) dental memories. SHE WAS THE BEST DENTIST EVER. And she was practically the only dentist I had ever known too: I started going to her in 5th grade after my original dentist DR. LEDONNE THE SADIST completely fucked up my teeth (hence the 8 years of braces I endured, god bless the Good Brothers for fixing that asshole’s mess). Anyway, the only appointment she had available did not work for me at all so I screeched, “I WILL HAVE TO CALL BACK” and what I did instead was call Henry and continue screeching, “DR AMMONS IS RETIRED WHAT THE FUCK” and Henry was all, “Are you fucking kidding me” and I was like “I KNOW RIGHT” and he was like, “No, I’m talking about your reaction. You need to calm down. We’ll find you a new dentist.” I cried about how she is the only dentist I’ve ever known and Henry snidely said, “Well, you better get to know a new one.” But you don’t understand. Dr. Ammons was patient with me. She pandered to my neuroses. Her hygenists loved to kid around with me and when I would walk into the hallway of exam rooms they would jokingly say, “Erin’s here!” And before you even SUGGEST that I just start going to the dentist whose office Dr. Ammons was sharing, let me just say that I went to him once out of desperation and he had entirely too much football memorabilia in his exam room and I shouldn’t have to look at that shit while I’m already enduring so much trauma.
  • I hadn’t even set my purse down yet at my desk before I was practically wailing about my latest dilemma to everyone at work. Glenn was just like, “So find a new dentist.” OH WOW WHAT A GREAT SOLUTION, GENIUS. I mean, my hysterics even drove people out of their offices to see what the hell was going on and by people I just mean Lori because really no one else in the offices on our side of the floor give a shit about my tragedies because apparently they’re not “tragedy”-y enough I guess. But thankfully Lori and Lauren cared and were trying to stroke my nervous breakdown back to sleep. “I just went to the dentist yesterday,” Glenn said. OK GREAT JOB GOOD FOR YOU GLENN! God! So I asked him where his dentist is and he casually said “North Hills” and I live in the South Hills! If you’re not from Pittsburgh, you wouldn’t understand, but residents of the two Hills hate when they have to to go to the other Hills. So this was not helpful to me at all!! In the middle of all this, Amber had been quietly listening to this play out from her desk a few rows back, and she sent me an email that simply said “Dentist Recommendation” in the subject line. Amber to the rescue as always! Some of you might remember that she is also the one who found me an eye doctor two years ago when my eyes were hurting me so bad that I was basically crying at my desk and walking into walls, and then she MADE ME CALL AND MAKE AN APPOINTMENT. Amber could be a life coach, you guys. She really could.
    • So back to my original bullet up there: I called Amber’s dentist and made an appointment and then I called my soon-to-be old dentist and suffered through the last conversation I’ll ever have with that awful receptionist and within an hour, I was picking up my records and now I’m all set for my appointment in two weeks and OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I HAVE A DENTIST APPOINTMENT AND NOW MY STOMACH HURTS.

There were some nice moments too which I’ll write about later, but mostly it was just all of the above and a lot of me saying, “I’M SO BORED LET’S DO SOMETHING” and then Henry would say, “We are doing something, it’s called ‘not working.'” Wow, I never realized how much I depend on my job for socialization and entertainment. I’ll have to remind myself of that the next time I fantasize of being a housewife. (And also probably remind myself of the cooking and cleaning that comes along with being a housewife.)