It’s been a week and I’m still in lala land. I’m currently on the way home from seeing an acoustic Emarosa show at Mahall’s and trying not to cry because it was everything I could have asked for. Because Henry needs a break from my hyper blathering, I figured I’d do some car-blogging before I get even more behind. 

My friend Amelia likes to ask questions on Facebook to spark conversation, and the other day she asked “What is you favorite sound?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. 

Music festivals. 

Specifically, Warped Tour. There is just something so beautiful, familiar, comforting about the cacophony of competing music in a parking lot of stages. It’s like an apocalyptic carnival that I can’t stop buying tickets for. 

The weather wasn’t very favorable but what can you do. This definitely wasn’t nearly as bad at the first day of Riot Fest last year, but made for some soggy TOMS. 

 This was Chooch’s third Warped Tour and he is basically a seasoned pro at this point. He s that schedule and scrutinizes the fuck out of it and knows the location of all of the stages before I do which is irritating because I hate when the student becomes the master. 

Grrrr.

Rain in b&w because I’m fancy sometimes.  

Waiting for Set It Off, much to Henry’s chagrin. Chooch changed into his newly-acquired Emarosa tank which is cut way more provocatively than anything he’d typically wear, as evidenced by his tanlines. 

Those shoes were red when we left the house. I think Chooch is telling Henry that he owes him money. He doesn’t forget about being owed money. WHO DOES. 

Merchaholic. 

I can’t find the proper words to illustrate just how happy I am that my kid goes to Warped Tour with me now. Henry’s mom was telling me that she was flipping through the latest issue of Alternative Press and was shocked he knew nearly every band there and was telling them whether or not he liked them and why. Being able to share this with him is such a beautiful part of parenting for me and I’m really honored that he wants to be involved. You know, when Henry picked up Janna and me from the Kurt Travis show last weekend and i screamed in Henry’s fave that Kurt Travis dedicated a song to me, Henry was like *smirky frown* but Chooch is the one who excitedly asked, “WHICH SONG?!”

I love that kid. 

Meanwhile, Cabbage was one of the better bands we saw that day. Their vegcore anthem “Get Slawed” was a real crowd-pleaser. 

UNTIL TOMORROW. LET THIS GOODBYE BRUSH YOU GENTLY ON YOUR EYELASHES LIKE A BUTTERFLY. 

I think I wrote this in my sleep. I’M TALENTED!

  
10:05am: After pretty much arguing all morning because Henry is insensitive to the fact that this is my favorite day of the year, I am now officially in line to get in! Henry and Chooch had to go to Will Call so Henry could get his complimentary Parent Ticket. So I’m just here alone pretending like I don’t care that I’m alone while silently stewing in a jealous pot at all the people who are here with friends. :(

Amber 2 texted me and said that Glenn hopes it rains on me today. What a jerk!

10:35: Two scene girls just walked by and yelled, “Look at that kid’s hair!” And then the one said, “You’re perfect!” And now Chooch’s face is beet red haha. 

10:45: Chooch just had a long convo with one of the guys from Koo Koo Kanga Roo about PVRIS and cats and now people in line notice us and I hate being noticed so thanks Mr. Popularity. 

  
11:12: WE’RE IN! HenrY stood in line for a schedule while Chooch and I straight sprinted across the land so he could shout SKATER MOM at the Van’s tent in exchange for free shit. Henry caught up to us and said, “I don’t think you’ll have a problem!” as he handed me the schedule but HELLO DOES HE NOT KNOW ME? Like three bands I want to see all play around the same time, FML. 

12:32: After getting woken up by Palisades, we had a dance party with Koo Koo Kanga Roo, Chooch’s new idols.  

 Now we’re waiting for Our Last Night to end and We Came As Romans to start and we’re laughing because henry lost us lol. 

  
WE SEE U HENRY. 

1:00: WCAR are on now and I’m like I know none of these songs and Chooch is all god mommy. (He likes them, not me.) Before playing a song they were like “This is about loving each other and supporting each other. Now open up that pit and FUCK EACH OTHER UP!” God I love this scene. 

1:47: NEVER SHOUT NEVER SIGHTING!

  
Henry was more excited than any of us. 

3:06: WHAT U MISSED–Henry fed us & Chooch got to sing along happily to Never Shout Never. 

  
Now we’re at the Journeys stage waiting for Hands Like Houses and Transit is playing on the stage next to us so it’s perfect. Also the sky is blue but random raindrops are keeping us cool here and there. Today is wonderful! 

4:38: Chooch is making me stand in line to meet the Warped YouTubers FML.  

5:58: watched Emarosa’s set in a straight rainstorm, totally worth it, I TOUCH BRADLEY SCOTT WALDEN fuckkkkkkk. 

6:30ish: Set It Off after Pierce the Veil and meeting Lynn Gunn from PVRIS has Chooch like: 

7:06: so live blogging wasn’t as feasible as I thought because downtime was a bare minimum this year, but I have tons of pictures to inundate you with over the next few days (weeks?) once I come down off this high. HOW IS IT OVER SO SOON?? 

Oh, Henry wants me to tell you that when we were waiting for Hands Like Houses, he had to go and call work because he fucked something up, haha, and some guy moved Henry out of the way and said “GO THIS WAY” and Henry realized the guy was security and was trying to corral Vic and Jaime from Pierce the Veil to safety so they wouldn’t get mobbed. He tried to tell me as soon as he came back to the Journeys stage but I haughtily said, “YEAH I CANT HEAR YOU” because I assumed that Henry couldn’t possibly be telling me something that mattered. 

There was a rainbow when we were on our way out, with Bless the Fall playing in the background. How fucking perfect I AM CRYING.   

There was only one bad thing that happened all Warped Tour, and that was when Chooch and I missed Henry FALLING DOWN THE HILL when we were standing in line for the Warped YouTubers!! Ugh!!! Henry just now mumbled to himself, “My leg still hurts from when I fell….” 

8:19: Recuperating at King’s with some post-Warped power slaw. Chooch was yammering about, “Yeah well I touched Bradley’s arm pit!” when the waitress came over and she was like “……” 

Wow, is it time for Henry Bombs already? Are you guys tired of these yet? HENRY IS! I didn’t get very many bombs this weekend because most of Friday was spent hating each other (we were stuck in traffic for two hours en route to a stupid flea market and hated each other so bad that the option of getting married just so we could go through a nasty divorce and ruthless custody battle may have been put on the table) and then I just didn’t care much after that.

But anyway.

The “Henry Waits Four Seasons To Start Watching Teen Wolf and Then Asks ‘Who’s that?‘ and ‘Why is this happening?‘ and ‘Is she a werewolf, too?*‘ While Eating a Hot Dog Wrapped In Bread**” shot.

*No, she’s a coyote, asshole! Try to keep up!

**No, it wasn’t Hot Naybor Chris’s  charity bread. :(

The “We Just Spent An Entire Afternoon Hating Each Other And Now Henry Is Considering Thelma&Louise’ing This Car Off a Cliff, Chooch Put Your Seat Belt On” shot.

The “Getting Ready To Eat Dinner In Silence After a Shitty Day Together, Check His Pockets For Hemlock” shot.

The “Contemplating Single Life, Lamenting That He Forgot To Order Cole Slaw” shot.

The “Casual Stroll Through The Pit Stop Parking Lot, YOU’RE LUCKY I FED YOU TWO AFTER THE SHIT YOU PULLED TODAY!!!” shot. 

The “When You’re Admiring A Beautiful Tree Without Judging Its Crookedness & Then You Realize MICHAEL MYERS Is Standing Behind It, Oh Wait, Bro, That’s Just Henry Being a Goddamn Creep” shot. 

The “Happy Independence Day From Mr. Made In America,  Star Spangled Henry!” Shot. 

The “Sweeping Up the Red, White & Blue Confetti That Fell Out Of His Ass, God Bless America” shot.  

The “Forgot He Was SO OVER US & Took Us To See Jurassic World” shot.  

(At first I thought, “Ew what’s wrong with my face in this picture?” And then I realized, “Oh my face. My face is what’s wrong with my face.” Lol.)

I used to talk to this guy Jeremiah when I was in high school, and I mean that literally and not as a euphemism for movie theater hand jobs. He was kind of Thug Lyfe-ish in that he lived in kind of a rough area and sold drugs and wound up in jail later on in life (he’s probably still in jail, and I’d Google that shit but I can’t quite remember his last name). When we would talk, I would oftentimes have to put the receiver down on my bed and go about doing my homework or painting my nails, getting a snack or finishing a mix tape, because that boy would talk and talk and talk about every last detail of his day, and it would be in this reallllly sloooooow voice.

“And then……………I sold a dime bag………..to………Aunt Meg……….” 

*Puts phone down and flips the tape to Side B*

He was busted selling cocaine to an undercover cop.

I mean, great guy though! He had my back and loved to make threats to suburban boys who were bothering me,  and even tried to help me when I decided in tenth grade that I was going to join a girl gang, except that I couldn’t figure out how to take a bus to his house in Hazelwood in order to be initiated into the gang.

I still wouldn’t know how to take a bus to his house in Hazelwood, so I’m still pretty similar to 10th grade Erin.

I’m only mentioning this because when I was writing my Waldameer post on Sunday, I paused and thought to myself, “Huh. I am essentially the Jeremiah of blogging.”

And then. And then! AND THEN!

Oh well. Maybe someday I’ll be on trial for murder and I’ll need to know exactly where I was and what I did on Saturday, June 28, 2015, and through the power of an Internet blog that can be altered and fictionalized at any given juncture, I will be able to give a courtroom a play-by-play a la Jeremiah from Hazelwood.

Your Honor, I started my Saturday by waking up. I took a shower. I do not recall shaving that day, but you should ask my life partner, Henry. He might recall. I got dressed. It was chilly at first, so I put on shorts and a long-sleeved Pierce the Veil shirt that I bought at their World Tour show in February, which is my first lie because HENRY bought that shirt for me.

I then attempted to make cream of wheat, into which I added cinnamon, dates, blueberries, lavender honey, and chia seeds. But it TASTED WEIRD. So I left it on the sink and then made a sad, pathetic English muffin. Henry had gone to the store real quick, but I don’t remember for what now. When he returned, I yelled at him to try the cream of wheat I left on the counter by the sink and he immediately said, “Your soy milk is bad, idiot.”

I pouted about this for awhile, and then I went upstairs and changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and a kimono-thing that I bought from some vintage shop’s Instagram flash sale and then that bitch acted like she shipped it but all she actually had done was create a shipping label and then after two weeks of the tracking info not being updated, I emailed her and got NO RESPONSE, but coincidentally, the tracking info was suddenly updated two days later when she FINALLY PUT IT IN THE MAIL. I’m not trying to cast aspersions here, but Frolic Vintage is a big fat unprofessional bitch and the kimono stunk when I got it. But it’s super pretty, and now it smells normal after Henry washed it.

Buyer beware.

Caveat emptor.

Don’t buy shit from Instagram, maybe.

(Are you painting your nails yet?)

Around 10:30, I drove through a dreary, Seattle-esque rainstorm to Lisa’s house in Pleasant Hills. I was slightly early, so I drove around a little bit because I was listening to PVRIS and if you listen to PVRIS, you might understand the need to stay in the car and just listen to one more song. And then one more. And fuck it, just let the album start over. I drove past the police station and my old dentist who fucked up my teeth when I was in elementary school (Dr. LeDonne, what a fucking dental douche!), and then I drove down the street that my first stalkee, Scott Dambaugh, lived on and WOW, MEMORIES.

At 11:00, I pulled in front of Lisa’s house, where she and Gigi were waiting for me at the door. Gigi had just had a bath, so Lisa had to go and get her dressed, leaving me to sit on the couch and interact with their dog, Tucker, who wanted me to play tug of war with him. Then Lisa brought Gigi back and left to get the laundry out of the dryer so I took that as my opportunity to make Gigi take selfies with me. Because I’m such a selfless person (yet full of selfies), I’m posting this one where Gigi is smiling (I told her to smile so people would think she likes me) instead of the other one I took even though I look so much better in the other one, ugh.

Gigi is growing so fast! Her head is about the size of a cabbage now.

Then Lisa was like, “Come in the kitchen while I prepare lunch” which required her to spend 87 minutes cutting peppers because she kept getting distracted and I drank way too much coffee during this time and recounted the tragic tale of my wasted cream of wheat. Then I played Emarosa, Never Shout Never, and The Cure for Gigi, and explained to Lisa the whole Emarosa situation where they have a new singer now and how they’re even better than they were before which is really saying something because you know how obsessed I used to be with Jonny Craig….

“Who?” Lisa asked, and I thought she was kidding but she claims to honestly have never heard me mention Jonny Craig not even once in the last 7 years and I actually became disturbed by this because who doesn’t know about my (now buried) Jonny Craig obsession!?

I played her an Emarosa song and she said it reminded her of Stavesacre so she stopped cutting peppers for the 5456874th time in order to locate and then put on a Stavesacre CD and I was like, “This doesn’t remind me of Emarosa at all.”

While she had resumed chopping, I asked her if she remembered this one time back in 2002 or 2003 when we went to a coffee house to watch some guy sing.

She said no.

I said that I was pretty sure it was a friend of hers and that the coffee house was in Beaver Falls or Beaver, somewhere near the college she went to, and she was still looking at me like I was crazy.

“Yeah, and there was some guy there that you knew and it turned out that he worked at the gas station down the street from my house,” I pressed on, hoping to jog something in her decrepit memory.

“Nope,” she shrugged.

So then I texted Henry and basically asked him if he had any recollection of me going to this acoustic coffee house show with Lisa and he was like, “Sort of. I guess.”

After a good 30 minutes of this, Lisa finally remembered and then asked me why we had started talking about this in the first place.

“Because we were listening to Stavesacre in your car that night,” I replied in a “duh” tone. Why didn’t she just know this?!

She looked at me long and hard and shook her head. “Your memory is so weird.”

Lisa and I are so different in so many ways, that our friendship probably shouldn’t even work, but somehow it does. I remember every thing and she remembers nothing, so most of our conversations involve me trying to recreate our old memories with as many words and gesticulations as possible until something finally clicks, or ends with me giving up and saying, “It happened, OK? Trust me.”

Then me, Lisa, and Gigi ate lunch (eggs from Lisa’s aunt’s and uncle’s chicken, with pepper and feta) and then Gigi and I shared graham crackers and life was pretty good. After lunch, it was time for Gigi to get ready for her nap so Lisa said that she could pick out a book “and we can have storytime with Miss Erin.” I started to cheer at first but then said, “Wait…you’re reading it, right?”

“Yes,” Lisa sighed.

Gigi picked an alphabet book that featured atypical animals, like narwals and uakaris. It was OK, but I wanted more plot.

After Gigi went down for a nap, Lisa and I reminisced, and by that I mean I was one Google search away from “how to contact Mnemosyne” to come and bring back her fucking memories!

“Do you remember that one night in high school when we went to visit Jeremiah and Evan and Tony were so pissed?” I laughed.

“Who?” Lisa asked. “Jeremiah?”

I couldn’t believe that she had forgotten about Jeremiah! She used to get so annoyed every time he would page me! (Yes, I had a pager! I was trying to be in a gang, remember?!)

“We went there after Evan’s art show!” I offered, giving her more words to use as a crutch as she slowly limped down Memory Lane.

“Evan had an art show? Where was Evan’s art show?”

&^!!@#$%^%

“IT WAS AT CMU AND IT WAS ONE OF THE BEST NIGHTS OF MY HIGH SCHOOL LIFE!” I cried, and then she yelled at me for being too loud while Gigi was sleeping. UGH, EXCUSE ME!

I have video footage of that night, impromptu trip to Jeremiah’s house included, so I guess Henry will just have to get that transferred to DVD asap and then Lisa and I will have movie night, where she will have parts of her missing teen years pieced back together like a crude tapestry of band tees and Denny’s receipts courtesy of my compulsive videotaping.

Then I left and drove home without incident. I listened to Emarosa. Even some of the Jonny Craig Emarosa.

I came home and bitched to Henry about how I couldn’t get the Bluetooth to work in my car (MY car) but then I was distracted by a package with name on it and it was a candy heart necklace I bought from Danny Brito! I put it on right away, because #everydaysentiments.

Then I think Henry and I watched Wayward Pines and So You Think You Can Dance and I cried a couple times because those dancers and their goddamn touching stories and insurmountable odds being overcome.

I took some type of pills because I had a headache and whenever I have a headache, Henry is all, “DID YOU TAKE SOMETHING FOR IT!?”

(Are you taking your own pills right now? Sleeping pills? OR IS THIS BLOG POST DOING THE TRICK FOR YOU?)

Then we decided that Chooch needed shoes to wear during the times he’s not outside with the neighbor kids playing Lord of the Flies, so the three of us when to one of the local malls that’s in the most state of despair, but it has a Journeys and Chooch wanted TOMS. First though, I almost perished on an escalator in JC Penney’s because I just never learned how to board one of those things without clenching up, but I almost died on one in Atlantic City when I was 4 but my PAPPAP SAVED ME.

We bought Chooch red TOMS, and the saleskid at Journeys shook Henry’s hand after he handed him the bag, which made me wonder if handed him something else, too.

There was a New Years Day video playing. I said something about not recognizing Ash Costello without half of her hair being red. No one cared.

GameStop was unfortunately right next door and the guy working there told us that they were having a Buy One Get One Free Skylander special that day only, and when Chooch started screaming, the sales guy was like, “YOU’RE WELCOME!” to Henry.

Chooch got two stupid Skylanders.

I went to Wet Seal because they were having a 60% entire store sale and after .0005 seconds it was clear that they’re going out of business because their clothes are ugly as fuck. I made sure to say this loudly too, because the girls working there are clearly the designers. They cared.

Then we left the mall and I pouted on the way home because Chooch got stuff and I didn’t.

Got home and went to my room and slammed the door.

Pouted.

Henry came upstairs and stood in the doorway, laughing at me.

I screamed a lot about being hungry.

Henry made me dinner but now I can’t remember what it was.

At some point, I checked my Simpsons: Tapped Out game and argued with Chooch about whose Springfield is better (obviously mine). Then I declared that it was time for pie, so after Chooch spent 15 minutes trying to pry on his right TOM (I told him he has Barney Rubble feet and then he had to google who Barney Rubble is, good lord), the three (Your Honor, that’s me,  Henry, and Chooch, for the record) of us walked down the street to Eat n Park. It didn’t take long before Henry broke away and walked ahead of us.

Way ahead of us.

Some kid from Chooch’s grade was there with his family. Chooch was seated facing him, and he gets SO WEIRD when he sees his school friends outside of the classroom so that made for an awkward desserting experience.

I wanted cherry pie like really bad but Eat n Park doesn’t believe in damn good pie so I had to get peach instead. It was OK. Our waiter looked like Ed Sheeran. He might have been gay. That is just an observation.

I ordered my pie with ice cream, but I said, “With ice cream” and not “a la mode.” I wasn’t in a linguistically fancy mood. Not like I was 87 (give or take) paragraphs up there when I said “a la Jeremiah” like I’m some sort of brie-noshing Francophile.

Chooch got molten lava cake and Henry got grilled stickies WITH ICE CREAM and also a creamsicle milkshake, which made me do that deep-throated, “OH HO HO HO!!!” that I do when I’m emasculating his every move. Henry mumbled, “Shut up” and seemed embarrassed that I spotlighted his audacity to double-dessert, but really I just couldn’t wait to steal some slurps of his milkshake.

It was OK.

Just OK.

We had to leave soon after we finished eating because Chooch was starting to laugh so hard that he was choking and I was taking some horribly sloppy Henry Bomb photos which made the people at the booth adjacent from ours wonder if I was taking pictures of them and we kept making shifty eye contact with each other and it was just bad news all around, you know?

So Henry paid and we split.

Chooch and I made it about a quarter of a block before the sugar set in and we ran the rest of the way home, leaving Henry in the wake of our echoing giggles. Once home, we tried to hide from him behind a lilac bush that I always thought was a giant weed until someone once was like, “That’s a lilac bush. Haven’t you ever seen the lilacs on it?” and I was like, “Yes, but I just thought, ‘Wow, that large weed is growing lilacs.'”

Henry claims he knew we were there, then tried to lock us out, THEN lectured us on why screaming “CALL THE COPS!” is a bad thing to scream in our neighborhood.

I honestly have no recollection of what I did after that, but it likely didn’t involve murder, which I imagine is what I’m on imaginary-trial for. 

(Oh wait, I remember! I was making Henry and Chooch watch some guy’s homemade video from Glastonbury 1985 on YouTube while I spouted off about how wonderful music was in 1985 and how desperately I wanted to dive through the TV and land with a perfect somersault onto the grounds of Glastonbury just in time to have some goth boi help me obtain perfect Siouxsie cat eyes before The Cure’s set. Chooch was like, “All these people look weird. I’m going on the computer.” I can’t remember what Henry was doing, but it probably wasn’t googling ‘my girlfriend stabbed me in my spleen and I’m bleeding out. What should I do?’)

At some point I went to bed, probably fell asleep pouting.

(Are you still there? Hello?)

Here is a thing you should know about me in case you’re ever trying to really butter me up (or poison me) by sending me baked goods: I LOVE LAVENDER-FLAVORED FOODS. A few springs ago, Caribou Coffee used to have a lavender latte and it was fucking dreamy but then it went away and I got bug-eyed looks from baristas every time I asked for it after that. (Thank god for Monin syrups and Henry’s basic kitchen knowledge, because he has been known to whip me up some lavender simple syrup when he’s trying to keep me from leaving him for someone more age-appropriate.)

My friend Kara alerted me a few weeks ago to the Destiny Hill Farm’s lavender festival in Washington, PA. I forwarded this news along to Henry who didn’t even question it because he knew that taking me to this was essential to my existence. So that’s what we did yesterday and Chooch was PISSED because it required being in the car for like, 45 minutes, god forbid. But he’s really into the Smashing Pumpkins now so listening to Mellon Collie and reading the lyrics kept him quiet.

I know: a lavender festival seems like such a plebeian event for me to attend, right? But you know how I am with things: I either REALLY LIKE THINGS to the point of restraining orders or REALLY HATE THINGS to the point of cease & desist letters.

I started screaming when I saw this sign and Henry was like, “OK ERIN.”

We got to ride a school bus! I LOVE SHUTTLING TO FESTIVALS!

I will try to make this short and sweet: I tasted lots of delicious things infused with lavender (and bought it all too), only hated one person (some overly-inquisitive broad who cut in front of me at the honey stand when all I wanted was a sample of the lavender honey but had to stand there and listen to her ask 87 questions about raw honey and I was like “I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS NOT A LECTURE HALL DO YOU WANT A SAMPLE OR NOT?), ruined a pair of TOMS in the soggy farmgrounds, and managed to apply TEAMWORK with Chooch in order to cut our own lavender without the assistance of Henry (we wandered off without him and then he couldn’t find us and was pissed because OH LOOK WHO’S LOST NOW!), and basically felt like I was floating on a giant lavender-stuff satchel. It was a dreamy kind of day.

I ATE THIS! HONEY LAVENDER GELATO! My god, it was like the Garden of Eden was melting upon my sinful tongue. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. Lavender makes my brain shut down.

This was the exact moment that Chooch saw two girls around his age, giggling and wearing crowns of lavender. He looked at me and mumbled, “Shut up.”

“OMG LAVENDER.”

Chooch was fine until he ate a sample of lavender fudge that burned his throat, so then he spent a good portion of the time there wearing his thespian cap. He was miraculously cured when we found a baby donkey to pet, though. But then later, we were sampling balsamic vinegar and when the lady gave Chooch a sample cup of it, he threw it back like a shot before we had a chance to stop him. So that was A Scene.

Stoked for lavender.

We left the festival with Lavender sparkling wine, lavender fudge, lavender honey, lavender balsamic vinegar, bellies full of lavender lemonade & cookies, freshly cut lavender sprigs, and a purple beaded necklace! In addition to all of this, Henry also left with a headache spawned from all the times I screamed IT’S INTOXICATING! while shoving my lavender bundle in his face, and a newfound hatred of Kara.

I DRANK THIS LAST NIGHT. Not the whole bottle, even though I wanted to.

The only downside to the festival, other than ruining my TOMS, was that there was no lavender coffee! There was definitely a coffee vendor there, but it seemed to be offering just the usual suspects. Unless I missed it, but that seems unlikely since I’m never wrong.

Chooch had so much fun* at the lavender festival, that his hair turned lavender, too.

*(That might be a slight exaggeration.)

******

Today we are spending Father’s Day at Waldameer Park with our Henry who hates amusement! Happy Father’s Day to any dad who might be reading this dump.

Henry has been  in a terrible mood all weekend which is hard to believe considering he spends so much time hanging out with Chooch and me. That just made procuring Henry Bombs even more fun! 

 
The “Dropping Off The Kids At the Sold Out Sleeping With Sirens Show, Speeding Off Into the Sunset For a Night Of Peaceful Grocery Shopping” shot. It was the happiest he’s ever been. If he could have gotten away with grocery shopping in his underwear, he probably would have suffered a hernia of happiness. 

(Forever cutting off the top of my head because I’m a selfie dunce.)

The “Professional Driver Henry Doesn’t Need The Rear Camera Thing To Back Out Of a Parking Lot” shot. “I WILL USE THE MIRRORS AS THEY WERE INTENDED!”

  
The “Henry Will Go Into Any Convenience Store, Even Those Of Ill Repute, In Order To Score Beverage” shot. #beveragerenegade

The “DONT TOUCH MY GLASSES!” shot. 

The “Using His Belly As a Plate” shot. 

The “Weekend’s Only Just Begun & Henry Already Hates Everything Even Though ‘Broken Wings’ is playing at Valliant Diner” shot.   

The “Dutifully Washing Dishes So Chooch & I Will Have More To Dirty” shot.    

The “Channeling His Mental Colorwheel In Order To Assemble the Most Aethestically-Pleasing Serial Killer Greeting Card But Always Double-Checking With Me First” shot. 

OK that’s all. I have to go finish watching this thing about Ted Bundy because it’s my life and I do what I want.  

So, I guess Henry’s 50th birthday was OK! I mean, he seemed OK. But you know Henry — he is impervious to emotion. After waking up early to do laundry and wash the car, coming home and making us breakfast, and then taking three naps, we all went succulent shopping.

“But First We Have to Get Gas!” shot.

We bought plants and went to Goodwill. Henry bought me this weird Mary thing! It was $2 and very heavy! Thanks, Henry Warbucks!

Then we came home and sat there. And then….Hold on a second. Writing about this boring day is making me give birth to yawn triplets. I know, it’s shocking that Henry’s birthday wasn’t more action-packed. Don’t fret, Henrylovers: he probably just waited until I fell asleep before folding laundry and watching home videos of Hot Naybor Chris cutting the grass.

Henry couldn’t decide where he wanted to have his birthday dinner and I was getting hungry so I made some cream of wheat for a snack and he got all bent out of shape. “OH I GUESS WE’RE NOT GOING OUT TO DINNER NOW!” And I was like:

a) YOU WON’T MAKE UP YOUR MIND

b) IT IS JUST CREAM OF WHEAT, WTF WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME FEEL FAT?!

Conveniently, he decided where he wanted to go while I was eating my cream of wheat: Tom’s Diner.

Whomp whomp.

I mean, Tom’s is fine for a cheap lunch or greasy omelettes after a rough night at the Vasta (totally shady bar next door to Tom’s), but I was like, “This is your 5oth birthday bro.” Selfishly, I really wanted Italian food and was trying to psychically sway his decision more toward TILLIE’S but I am really trying to be more mindful of other people instead of (allegedly) making it all about myself. Forcing Chooch to go to a Mexican restaurant for his birthday lunch doesn’t count because I gave birth to him, so….

Needless to say, it was a real struggle for me not to shout bitchily, “TOM’S!? SRSLY!? UGH.”

“It’s cheap and we can walk there so I can have some beers,” Henry rationalized and I was just like, “Fucking fine.”

Trying to be good children and let Henry enjoy his day. It literally gave me a stomachache.

Like, bro. The least you can do is smile.

The “Henry Cut His Finger On His Birthday But I Don’t Know How Because I’m Too Self-Centered To Ask” shot. Also, maybe that’s a smile? Sort of?

The “Reading the Placemat Ads Because You Never Know When You’ll Need Your Chimney Cleaned” shot.

CHIMNEY CLEANED. That’s what they called in THE SERVICE.

Tom’s updated their menu since I was last there but the vegetarian options are still the same: grilled cheese. “moonshine cake” was written on the specials board and I was really excited when the waitress started by telling me it was lemon cake, but then I choked back bile when she got to the “dunked in moonshine” part. I just can’t with moonshine, sorry Appalachians. :(

The “Henry Bought Us Presents On His Birthday” shot.

(Obviously I have that Cure album, but this is the remastered version on vinyl, which I did not previously have. BUT NOW I DO BECAUSE HENRY HAD A BIRTHDAY!)

Then after Henry took his fourth nap, we went to some questionable ice cream place in McKees Rocks where it took us forever to order because some asshole couple who arrived 2 seconds before us ordered DINNER FOR LIKE 7 PEOPLE plus freezes and we were just like, “GO THE FUCK TO MCDONALD’S NEXT TIME, FUCCCCCCKKKKKKK.” They were walking through the parking lot right when we pulled in and Chooch suggested that we run them over and Henry was all, “Haha, they’re not going to take that long.”

FAMOUS LAST WORDS. Shoulda mowed those townies over.

The “Yelling At Chooch For Pretending To Be a Stripper On Some Pole In the Parking Lot of the Ice Cream Shop and Getting White Powdered Paint All Over His Pants and Hands and ‘You Can Just Ride Home In the Trunk, Boy!'” shot.

***

I just asked Henry how his birthday was and he said, “Fine…?”

And napping was his favorite part. “I would say peacefully except someone kept taking pictures of me.”

Henry and I were pretending like we’ve been involved in Chooch’s schoolwork this whole time by rifling through all of the end of the year bullshit he brought home. One of those things was a composition book that he apparently had to write in regularly. I read this one entry from 4/9 and declared that this was going on my blog so now Chooch is hounding me for payment.      

Oh and let’s not forget about that time Chooch went to a funeral. 

(He’s never been to a funeral, btw.)

One of the things I vowed to do for Henry’s birthday was….let him nap. Ugh it pains me to even just TYPE that! And of course that weirdo got up at 6am on his own accord to do LAUNDRY and WASH THE CAR. On his BIRTHDAY. What a goddamn freak. So, nap #1 went down around 9:30am (after he made us all breakfast, haha).

He woke up long enough to stretch out and then fell asleep while I was making him watch KymNonstop videos on YouTube. (What, she makes a kale and plantain salad that I wanted him to see!)

#3 went down around noon, and I was trying to take a picture of it but he was snoring SO LOUD and that is a sound that I just can’t stand even though I snore too it just sounds worse when Henry does it. So I snapped and screamed “OMG IF YOU’RE GOING TO SNORE THEN GO UPSTAIRS I DON’T CARE IF IT’S YOUR BDAY YOU’RE DISGUSTING.”

So I drew a picture and I promise this is what he looked like. 

#4 happened after dinner. He had TWO BEERS and then walked a few blocks so he was really tuckered out. That’s what happens when you’re a senior citizen. 

I think it’s safe to post this now. It’s after 10pm so if he falls asleep again, it’s probably going to be more than a nap. Um, hopefully not death though. 

For today’s Henry Is A Hero post, I am posting an old tale from Henry’s LiveJournal, “mehoover.” This post is in “his own words” and recounts the time he was a Real American Parking Lot Heroe [sic]. I think it is really important to shed light on these old stories so that Henry’s heroism can be experienced by new generations. (Ruby was my LiveJournal nickname in case you didn’t know.)

April 16, 2007

oh shit u guyz where to even start!!!!!!!!!!! u will never ever beleive what happened yesterday. I can bearly beleive it my self.

ok so me and RUBY and that baby was in the car. we was drivin thru TARGET parking lot cuz i be doing all my shoppin there. (like underroos. i do not ware tightie whities no more now i ware boxer breefs in difrint colors!) now u have to kno that it was rilly WINDY and RAINY. real fishermen weather , right?

SO we are drivin real slow so I can find a rilly good space because I am the man of the car and that is we men do, when SUDDENLY a rogue (ruBY taught me that word!) shopping car come barrling out of NOWHERE and it was like everythin went in slo motion as it banged into a parked car!!!! THEN, and this is when it gets rilly serious, it cut in front of the car that was going in the opposite direction from us!!!!!!!!

that car had to STOP so it would not drive into the cart, and then the cart started to come toward us!!!!!!! RUby was screaming “help us help!” because shopping carts are dangerous like deer!

what happens next will make you all think diffrintly about me i promise u that.

i looked at rUby and snarled, “I WILL BE RITE BACK” as i threwed the car into PARK. THEN!!!!! Then I LEAPED out of teh car into the cold hard rain and I grabbed the cart like i was lassoing a BULL!!!!!!!!!! then I shoved the cart into the cart Return thing and looked around to see if anyone was clapping or crying like chicks do when tehy is watching a movie and the big powerfull man saves the day. I could not tell but ONLY because all the cars had rain drops on the windows.

So i got back in the car and that lady who could not go anywhere was now able to leave since there was no dangerous shopping cart in her way no more and as she drived past us, i noticed she was on her cellie and you know what i bet she was telling whoever she talked to about ME and how I rescued her and saved her LIFE!!!!!!

I mean, even ruBY was like “hay u are the shit for real now lets forget im a veggie eater and give me your slab of bacon, big guy!” but rilly she did not say that cuz she was to busy laffin at me for being a HEROE. i am not stupid i know that this is how some people react when they is jelis.

i just could not wait to go home and tell my mommie about it.

maybe tommorrow i will drawr you all a picture of how it happened!!! yes or no?
***************
ok guyz i tryed real hard to draw you a diegram of what happened at TarGet. it was hard cuz i am not to good at drawring.

now u can see there i am standing big and proud, thrusting out my arms to rassle with the shopping kart and the lady in the red car, she could not go no where until i freed her from the karts intrapment. so u can see her with hearts popping out of her face cuz she is so lovey about me now for saving her.

and then you can see ruBy sitting on her lard ass in are car. she did not lift a finger as usual. i did not drawr the baby cuz he just looks like a blob anyway.

and then lookie at what ruBY made me to celebrayt!

i was very touched when she gave it to me. i think i am gonna get it made itnto a patch and so it onto my jean jacket.

Here is another weekend’s worth of Henry Bombs! I wish I had managed to get a “your tattoo cost HOW much?!” shot but I told him via text after I had already paid for it, haha. Sorry, Henry, next time I’ll just get my cell mate to do it for cheaper. 

The “Henry With A Mouthful of Pretzels, Yelling At Chooch For God Knows What” shot.   

The “Henry Treated Himself to a Snickerdoodle & I’m Going to Steal It” shot.  

The “10 Minutes Early Picking Up Chooch From Piano TIME FOR A QUICK NAP” selfie.    

The “Hand It Over, Henry Warbucks” shot.   

The “Nap #2 With a Bowl & His Phone” shot.   

The “Henry Oversees the Jewelry Party” guest shot by Monica!   The “Henry Listens To Wendy’s Sales Pitch” shot. 

The “Just One of the Girls” shot (Wendy moved at the last minute).    

The “Blocking Henry From Getting Stoked” shot. 

The “Henry Returns A Thing At Lowe’s” shot. 

The “THERE HAS TO BE A SPECIAL MIX FOR SUCCULENTS BUT WHERE IS IT I WILL NOT ASK” shot. 

The “Henry Waits For Someone Else To Ask For Succulent Dirt & Then Follows Them To It” shot.    

The “Concerned That His Green Tea Froyo Tastes Carbonated” shot. (He later asked the Froyo purveyors if it was supposed to taste like that and they admitted that they have never tried the green tea but that it is supposed to be slightly tart which hello, I am no stranger to the Froyo  industry but I know the difference between purposely tart and SPOILED so hopefully we survive the impending digestive backlash and then own our own Sincerely Yogurt franchise.)

(Asian Froyo joints are better.)

  
The “Henry Is Potting My Plants Because Ew Dirt” shot. 

BONUS: #thingsinhenrysbeard

And that was Henry’s weekend. Actually these are all from Sunday. 

You guys. I am stunned. My Marcy tribute tattoo is so fucking majestic, just like Marcy was, and I am in tears. SHE WOULD BE SO FUCKING PISSED IF SHE SAW THIS! Ha!

Erin Hosfield at Kyklops just made my dreams come true. I am so glad I chose her to do this because she gets it. She is a phenomenal artist!

Here is the picture she took, in much better lighting:

I knew for some time that when Marcy passed, I would get a tribute tattoo, and it was definitely the best decision. I waited less than a week after her death before getting the ball rolling, and even that part of the process helped me get through the first few rough weeks. Now that I have it, I can honestly say that it provides a solace I have been searching for since March 31st, and I’m left with a sense of peace. She meant the world to me and I’m not being dramatic when I say that losing her was right up there with my death of my Pappap in 1996—they were two major players in my world. 

 I am so happy that I can carry Marcy around with me for the rest of my life. SHE IS JUDGING ALL OF YOU SO HARD!

Kurt Travis posted this SERIOUS INQUIRY on Instagram last night and I begged Henry all night to help me find a place since my house is a rental and way too small so I was like *LIGHTBULB* THE FAYGO WAREHOUSE! And as I was about to comment on the picture, Henry was like DON’T YOU DARE!

So then I was like “can I at least offer our house up if he needs a place to stay?” And Henry said no before I even finished asking but I’m going to do it anyway. 

This morning I was thinking about it some more and DONT PANIC IVE GOT A PLAN. I’m on my way to work right now and I’m going to ask Glenn for his home address and then give it to Kurt. 

I’ll check back in and let you know how it goes, Internet Diary. CROSS YOUR FINGERS FOR ME!! 

EDIT: I am at work now and asked Glenn, “SRS QUESTION.” And then I started having a laughaleptic seizure. 

Glenn said, “You can’t ask that and then LAUGH.”

“What’s your home address?” I asked after I composed myself. 

While Todd laughed in the background, Glenn smartly answered, “I don’t have one. I’m homeless.”

But then I explained what was going on and he asked, “Can he push a lawnmower?”

I THINK THAT’S A YES. 

Except he still hasn’t given me his address.

EDIT 2: 

Glenn just asked me if Kurt Travis is a COUNTRY SINGER. I yelled, “NO! He was the second singer of Dance Gavin Dance and NOW HE IS IN A LOT LIKE BIRDS.” 

“The one that kept getting kicked out?” Todd innocently asked. 

“THAT WAS JONNY CRAIG!” I cried in disgust. 

My lord, try to keep up.

Then Glenn googled me and asked if “Brain Lord” was one of Kurt’s songs and I said yes but I don’t think he actually listened to it. 

I can’t believe it’s been 7 years since I took these pictures of Blake and my friend Sarah! Dusting them off in the name of Throwback Thursday. (See also: When you feel like blogging but…words. Ugh.)

The first three photos make me want to start using my Holga and Diana again.

The Goldbricker.

Blake and Sarah, I think we need to update these! Kind of like some idiot Buzzfeed “Where R They Now?!” type bullshit.

Sultry Stances.

WELL THAT WAS FUN. Now I’m going to attempt to go to bed even though I drank 87 gallons of coffee today and just watched a particularly upsetting episode of The Following (I’M A WEEK BEHIND OK) and when I was crying, Henry snapped, “WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHO DIES, IT WAS CANCELED ANYWAY.”

YOU’RE CANCELED, HENRY.

Sorry. I’ve got a one-track post-hardcore mind and seeing Dance Gavin Dance on Sunday only made it worse. These pictures have nothing to do with either post-hardcore or Dance Gavin Dance, but they are some things from the weekend that made me smile. AND SMILING IS GOOD FOR KEEPING AWAY BEES AND PEOPLE WHO SMELL LIKE CABBAGE WHILE SHOWING OFF YOUR FILLINGS ALL AT ONCE.

1. Henry’s mom Judy had a birthday on Saturday! We went to Kelly’s to have some birthday cake coconut cream pie and it was super awesome. Henry is lucky to have such a good family, and I like spending time with them.

2. The next day we picked Judy up to bring her to our house and she had red hair! Red hair, Jude don’t care. This is her sitting on my couch, reading Alternative Press, even after mumbling, “I don’t know a single band in this thing!” Henry was like, “I WISH I didn’t know any of those bands!”

3. SNICKERDOODLE WAFFLES! Henry really needs to work on his plating skills, but the bigger picture here is that he used the waffle maker! He was annoyed though because the recipe I gave him was from A Beautiful Mess and he absolutely despises those broads. (They get on my last nerve too, yet I still go back for more.) Anyway, I love my waffle maker! Maybe I’ll eventually learn how to use it on my own so that I can make some really fucking weird shit!

4. You know what else I really fucking love? MY NEW (TO ME) CAR! I brought it home Saturday morning and Chooch was like, “Yeah, I’m riding with her. See ya, Henry!” And Henry sadly put-putted home in our crappy Focus which is due to die any day now. Chooch did some laps around Brookline, blasting PVRIS, before going home. It was awesome. When Corey saw it later that day, he was like, “Oh wow, and I love the color! Black is nice!” and I was like, “IT’S GREEN LOL” because I love to rub his color blindness in his face any chance I get!

The salesman I dealt with (Jarrod — he was awesome) called me on Monday and my first thought was, “OMG WHAT DID I DO WHY DO THEY WANT THE CAR BACK!?!?” but he just wanted to ask me to write a review on the dealership on some website. So I did because PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY CAR AWAY FROM ME. We’ve already imprinted and there’s no going back now!

5. <3!!

But you know what I love the most about the car? THE STEREO! We were actually supposed to go to a Nissan dealer and get a Sentra; I had already talked to the finance guy and had been pre-approved, but the day before, Henry saw this car at a different dealership and knew that I would want it based solely on the stereo. I can play Spotify on it and the speakers bring a tear to my eye. Our old car makes so much noise when we drive it (it has something to do with the motor mount? That’s a thing, right?) that we could barely even hear ourselves talk, let alone enjoy music. And like duh, music is the most important thing!

Meanwhile, the other dealership is still calling me and I scream a little every time because the guy was so UGH to talk to, and I just know he’s pissed that I didn’t show up. “Just answer and tell him  that you bought a car from somewhere else!” Glenn advised, tired of hearing me yelp every time the number shows up on my phone.

“Orrrr,” I countered, “I can just tell him I filed for bankruptcy.”

“Or you could just tell the truth,” Glenn sighed.

OR I CAN JUST KEEP ON NOT ANSWERING.

6. Spoon selfies!

7. The weather was too perfect on Sunday not to spend the majority of the day outside. We took Chooch to a bike trail and cringed every time he almost caused biker pile-ups, and then some dickhead biker was all WATCH OUT FOR THAT LARGE SNAKE ON THE ROAD UP AHEAD! and he totally got me all up in arms for nothing because THERE WAS NO SNAKE and it reminded me of the time Henry and I were walking up the street and some guy screamed out the car window, “YOUR SHOE’S UNTIED!” to me but my shoe was not untied! It didn’t even have any laces! And then I aggressively wiped some dandelions down Henry’s arm and he looked like he had Big Bird shit stains all over his stupid elderskin.

8. Chooch, modeling the t-shirt that Chris and Monica got him for his birthday. Those two are extremely in tune with my kid’s interests!

 ************

In addition to all of this, we had a party at Laser Storm and then closed out the weekend with DANCE GAVIN DANCE at Mr. Small’s, which I am still smiling about like a clown with a cracked jaw. (?) These two events get their own posts, which I will joyfully write once I pluck my head out from the clouds. Sometimes, life sucks. And that’s OK, because it makes the good shit seem even goodier. That’s going to be the last line of the self-help e-book I’m writing. Spoiler alert, I guess.

I’m hard-pressed to come up with any complaints about the weekend, other than: “it ended.”

9. And now here’s a Dance Gavin Dance song because we can all stand to have a little post-hardcore in our day:

Please make way for the special invented armor.
Mental protection if reality is ragin harder.
Hello mister mime, hello medicine.
I believe denial makes me hella intelligent.