Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 19:16 This Sunday shaped up to be not so bad after all. A lapdance from a clown could make it even better, but who am I to beg. #
• 12:08 Considering hiring some orphans to clean my house. I’ll pay them with porridge and promises. #
  

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• 14:23 Makes me feel like a kid again. #
• 16:24 The AP lady at my job has the kind of fake sweet voice that makes me think she smokes cigars and eats babies when she leaves here. #
• 17:40 Spent an hour listening to guys talk about apple pie flavored moonshine. WHO WANTS SOME? ME. #
• 17:41 And then tried to explain what kind of music I like. #
• 19:45 Sick again. They should name a medicine after me. #
• 21:18 We accidentally bought a lamp with a touch sensor. Chooch has turned it into a strobe light.
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• 12:15 I do not have the will nor the patience to be a mother when I’m a sick. No, YOU serve ME, son. Go fetch mommy the bourbon. #

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Mr. Small’s Theater is an old church that’s been converted into a music venue, which is awesome since seeing Chiodos is basically, for me, like getting all hand-waving and tongue-speaking at a church service. They like, touch the genitals of my soul, or some shit.

All day last Wednesday, I was hiccuping butterflies and doing the anxiety pee dance. When Henry came home from work, I yanked his arm repeatedly and yelled, “AREN’T YOU SO EXCITED??” He answered me with a very adult-like frown and said, “Of course not.”

We arrived to the usual double-takes from scene kids loitering outside. Two old folks at the Chiodos show tend to be an anomoly,  but I’ve learned to ignore it. It’s easier for me, because I only look marginally older than the rest of the crowd, but it’s also a little embarrassing because Henry looks like my chaperone. I should probably just start going by myself, but I do so love to torture Henry with high-decibel screamo.

Much to my dismay, A Voice Like Rhetoric was nearly finished by the time we arrived, thanks to Henry pissing around at the goddamn ATM down the street. They were the only other band on the bill that I had any desire to see, hometown pride and all. Wait, I don’t have hometown pride (suck one, Steelers). I guess I just wanted to see them because they’re actually good. Who knew.

Henry was happy to see that there was an area cordoned off for the over 21 set. Usually at the shows we go to, it’s all ages and Henry has nowhere to hide.  Once the circle pit was officially shaped during Hit the Light’s set, Henry embraced his can of Pabst and took solace in the leftover church pew that protected him from the flailing fists and jutting legs of the aggro teens in front of us.

Someone’s sock landed softly on my right shoulder during Chiodos’ set. I’m pretty sure it was that blue-shirted dude’s. I suppose I could have stuffed it in my pocket to return to him post-show, instead of yelping and swatting it off into the garbage can that I was standing near. 0wellzorz, little scene dude. Send ye mommy to the sock store.

And then finally, after two hours of boring scene kid study (the lack of scene extremity in this particular crowd left me sad and unsatisfied – where was all the assymetrical hair, raccoon eyes, and Skelanimal hoodies?), Craig fucking Owens took the stage, arms spread like a crucified Jesus, bathed in blue light and I forgot all about lame Henry standing behind me and chugging his old man beer. I kept one eye open to make sure I didn’t get pummeled by any more sweaty socks or size 11 shoes. Violence is the only downside of these kinds of shows. You just don’t have to anticipate getting cold-cocked at a Xiu Xiu show.

During one song, Craig decided to make the crowd split down the middle and separate, leaving a wide open area in the middle for everyone to come crashing together on his signal.

I was glad to be on the other side of the barrier, and felt sorry for the girl directly in front of me on the other side, who was scrambling to get out of the way. But really, who wouldn’t want to be crushed in a wall of teenaged aggression?? If I was a teenage boy, I’d have been out there. But instead I’m a sissy grown-up trying not to come home to my two-year-old with a bloody lip and ripped off ear.

You don’t even have to see their faces to deduce that the average age in attendance was sixteen. And you know what? I DON’T CARE. Chiodos makes me feel something much deeper than the shit played on the radio, the shit that grown-ups are “supposed” to listen to. And it just so happens that teenagers feel the same way. And I’m OK with that. It gives me something to talk about with Henry’s kid. I like music that makes me involuntarily weep, which I did that night during several songs. I kind of feel sad for the people who don’t get anything out of the music they listen to.

For an encore, they played “All Nereids Beware” which they said they haven’t played live in nearly three years. My legs quaked a little because this was the first song of their’s that I really latched on to three years ago. I remember hearing it and just knowing that this band was going to be really great. I just didn’t know then that they would end up meaning so much to me.

After the show, I hung around and waited for it  to clear out a little before attempting to locate Henry, who had run off to the bathroom during the last song. The nerve. I was standing near an older woman who I had noticed several times throughout the night. She was in her forties probably, had the signature Mom coif, and was wearing slacks with sensible shoes.  While I was standing there watching all the boys run around trying to retrieve their lost articles of clothing, the woman’s son had joined her and was talking excitedly about the show. “And did you see when Craig pointed out into the crowd, mom? He was pointing at ME because he saw me pointing at HIM.” He went on to give a breathy account of the night’s songs, and his mother stopped him at one point to say, “Yes, I really liked that one.” It made me smile all over, witnessing that. I also felt kind of perverted, because it was such a cool and intimate parent-kid moment, but it made me wish that I won’t lose this love for the scene, so that when Chooch is older, we can have the same sort of conversations.

Eventually, I waded through the pile of ripped out piercings, sweatbands and tears to rejoin Henry.  As I was heading toward the door I realized Henry, of his own accord, was heading the opposite way. Toward the merch table. THE MERCH TABLE. The table from which he always tries to distract me, and now here he was, approaching it alone. Because of Henry’s bravery, I now own a Chiodos hoodie, FINALLY. I tried to get one last winter and it turned into the messiest mail order debacle I’ve ever been a part of.  This one is ten times better than the one I was trying to get in the first place, thanks to Henry pissing around at the goddamn ATM down the street.

Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 14:04 You know how when you bash someones head with a cinder block, it sounds like cracking a hardboiled egg, but amplified? Yeah, me neither. #
• 14:06 I wonder if henry resents that blake is a billion times more awesome than him. #
• 15:23 We’re here. And it has balloons. #
• 15:39 Blake: all italian ppl do is eat food and listen to accordian music. #
• 17:35 Blake, to me: “you should go to where my mom works. The fries are good.” Yeah, let me just walk right in. #
• 17:39 We are at kings and I’m making janna ask for separate checks bc she’s not a part of this family. #
• 18:01 Janna keeps ogling my slaw and chooch is fisting salted fruit. #
• 21:12 Henry sent me 2 the store 2 get cookie ingredients. Thankfully Janna & Blake came also 2 ensure I didn’t get makings 4 a bomb instead. #
• 22:17 We’re making cookies. Mine are the vagina monlogues while blake and janna focus primarily on STDs. #
• 22:22 “Here 15-year-old, find pictures of STDs.” “OK.” #
• 22:31 Thought Blake said “let’s have a race 4 abstinance” but it was “earl grey is 4 assholes” This was right after he & Janna argued abt HPV. #
• 22:33 I looked at the computer screen and thought, “wow THOSE stds are pretty!” but apparently Blake moved on to looking at gauges 4 his ears. #
• 22:44 Henry just came home, saw batch I made. “I told u these cookies spread!” I said: “oh I didn’t know what that meant” #
• 22:48 NOW WE’RE HAVING A TEA PARTY. Henry just asked “what, are u guys having a big gay tea party?” #
• 23:21 twitpic.com/dlfg – New fall style #
• 23:29 Blake: I’m gonna make this penis bloody as fuck. #
• 23:33 twitpic.com/dlhu – Henrys bleeding ‘gina. #
• 00:00 Janna’s eating anal discharge. #
• 10:58 Its amazing how Saturday can be so awesome and then Sunday has to go and suck dick right from the start. #

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The downside of working in the evening is that I miss out on random drug addicts who pass out in our front yard, forcing Henry to get all 911 on their asses. This particular sweetheart only managed to stagger half a block further in the twenty minutes it took the ambulance to arrive. Not surprisingly, she refused assistance.

Henry claims that “she looked like she was on a heroin high.

” He’s been around that a lot I guess.

Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 14:56 Henry made me laff twice in a row. The world must be ending. #
• 17:17 The womens room at my job smells like a freshly baked strawberry pie in the middle of Kensington Gardens. #
• 17:32 Some driver just said, “what r u, about 20?”. PLUS NINE. I love that guy now. #
• 21:07 Tonight I worked with two women who exchanged chicken piccata recipes over top of me and I hoped they wouldn’t ask me for mine. #
• 21:48 CHOOCH POOPED ON THE POTTY. I cheered so loud, he thought he was in trouble.
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• 13:17 The spelling errors I’ve been making lately have been so embarrassing; I must have suffered head trauma without knowing it. #
• 10:25 My son just called me a pain in the ass. Henry is glowing. #
• 11:54 I haven’t been this emotional since I was 15. #
• 12:02 Going to visit my old place of employment. Its been over 4 years; I guess I’m ready. #
• 12:21 Low grade panic attack. #

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I really, really want to write about the Chiodos show. I do. But every time I try, I get all emotional and hormonal and feel inspired to do nothing more than weep on a mound of studded belts, razorblades and post-hardcore albums. I am hoping that the veil of post-show depression will have been pierced by this weekend and I can resume that thing called “being an adult” and begin to properly nourish myself and spell correctly once again. Seriously, my brain is tramping around on some other planet lately and it’s starting to scare me.

In work-related news, my new job is pretty fucking cool. It’s so laid-back there and it’s really nice to be working in an office again.

And no one here wears Crocs and country Jamboree shirts, which is A-plus. I will write  more about  my co-workers soon, but so far they are all normal, funny, and super easy to talk to. The best part is that they fill me in on gossip so I’m not sitting there like the lame new girl, wishing to be included.

We’re going to Target now, where I will buy myself a new pair of Converse as a hearty pat on the back for keeping a new job for a week without quitting.

Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 13:35 I can drink the oolong all day longoo. #
• 14:20 Henry just said I’m not allowed to cook anymore. :( #
• 15:39 @spacecoaster I wish you could be a professional political Tweeter. #
• 18:15 I wish I didn’t have grownup responsibilities to handle before leaving for shows. Fucking stresses me out when all I want to do is ROCK. #
• 18:27 Nothing beats an impromptu political debate as I’m trying to walk out the door. #
• 18:34 HAHAHA and now we’re driving in silence. You know, this is how the mehoover journal was conceived four years ago. #
• 19:08 Henry and I are in the drunk tank with the other 6 21&overs. #
• 19:12 Oh don’t mind me, scene kids. I’ll just be blogging about you and your asymmetrical hair tomorrow. #
• 19:33 twitpic.com/d0r4 – Faux scene kids #
• 19:42 Henry keeps trying to converse with me but I can’t hear past his beer breath. #
• 19:50 Styx came on the speakers between bands and Henry is like “oh good, my kind of music. Pass the Old Milwaukee ” #
• 19:54 I tweet because henry doesn’t listen to me. #
• 20:01 twitpic.com/d0wh – “I used to drink Pabst when I was 17. Durrr. Wanna dry hump?” #
• 20:04 Shows should have height restrictions. No one taller than Erin Appledale* admitted. (*new name, remember??) #
• 20:15 Just saw a boy that looked like if Prince was a scene kid but failed miserably at capturing evidence. #
• 20:58 Everyone started screaming bc the lights changed colors. Henry was annoyed by this. #
• 21:17 /:6/55;;;j(6:63: OMFG DYING OUCH #
• 22:17 I like watching all the boys searching 4 shoes after the show. #
• 00:33 After a discussion w/ Christina on beastiality, we realized we actually do have morals and limits. I feel refreshed. #
• 11:52 Me: “Chooch, who’s your mommy?” Chooch: “Asshole.” Close enough, I guess. #
• 11:53 I woke up under a cloud of post-show depression. Henry apparentally woke up to a three-beer hangover. What a lamer. #

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Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 15:14 it would be awesome if i came home from work tonight and the DISHES WERE WASHED. #
• 15:18 When I learned what “sack” meant, I cheered real loud. #
• 21:06 I took online tests and chopped invoices all night. And got paid a lot to do that. #
• 21:12 I love delivery drivers. #
• 21:46 Welcomed home from first nite of work by my bitchy boyfriend. Time to wipe the blood from your vagina, henry. #
• 21:47 Popcorn and chocolate milk for dinner, I guess. #

• 09:58 Today is a day for some E.99 Eternal and ass-capping. Whutwhut. But first I’ll make coffee. #
• 11:50 I wonder how long it will take Chooch to draw a comparison between raisins and boogers. #
• 12:45 When chooch hurts himself on something, he calls the offending object a bastard and pretends to shoot it. #
• 14:34 Every time I look at Madchen Amick, I see a former man. #
• 21:40 A vigorous handshake from a driver caused me to slosh burning hot coffee all over my left hand. I’ve been christened. #
• 21:56 I swear I barely watched TV until the WB and now the CW began pandering to my eternal teenager. #
• 22:38 Am so tired but can’t sleep knowing that in 24 hours, I’ll be freaking out at the Chiodos show. Its like xmas eve!! Without the egg nog. #
• 23:48 So far, there are no femulletted employees at my new job to replace the gaping vacancy in my heart left by Tina. #

• 09:28 @fondabruises thank you! I woke up and squealed! #
• 09:40 On today’s agenda: 1. Deflect toys chucked by son. 2. Jumprope. 3. Hassle Henry. 4. Dig holes 4 bodies. 5. CHIODOS. 6. ORGASM. 7. DIE. #
• 11:30 I will be so sad if the day ever comes where I don’t get butterflies before a show. Please don’t ever fly away, butterflies. #
• 11:48 Attempted to make scrambled eggs w/ cheese. The cheese ended up avalanching the eggs. How very Wisconsin. (Read: binding) #

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My babe is 29 months old now. Twenty-nine fucking months, with the mouth of a teenager. He’s grown a fondness for belting out “Asshole parade!” in sporadic and inopportune intervals, but Blake and I have been working diligently to replace that with “bubble muffin.” Well, for a day, we tried. An hour. Whatever.

I may have accidentally tought him to lash out at objects that have hurt him. For example, he trips over a strewn shoe.

After brushing himself off, he approaches the shoe which has bullied him, he kicks the shoe, he screams “Bastard!” at the shoe, he fake-shoots the shoe.

I am horrible at this parenting shit. Thank god for Henry, unweaving the tangled and very inappropriate webs I weave. I like to imagine him lunging at said web with a machete, playing out his dream role in motherfucking ‘Nam. Hack that web, Henry. Do it for the USA. You patriotic fuck, you.

At least he’s not saying “Hey douche” anymore.

What else does my evil little spawn do. He craves high-fives for car line-ups he creates on the floor. If it’s a particularly remarkable car-train, he demands a coveted High-Five:Foot Edition, which is where the soles of our feet bro-up with each other, obviously.

He has a considerable amount of hair now, thank fucking god. However, he has two tendrils on either side that exceed the rest of his hair in length. Sometimes those tendrils, they curve up into the perfect Dairy Queen curl and he looks like he emigrated from Whoville.

And every day he begs to go to the “Ween Store,” which is the Halloween store for those who don’t speak toddler. We were at one last weekend, and when we aproached an excessive Halloween prop dragging its rotting cavity along the floor, Chooch grabbed my arm and, very earnestly, warned, “No, Mommy. Careful.” And no matter which Halloween store we’re patronizing, he always manages to find the mesh bag of plastic eyeballs and fills the store with his spoiled caterwaul when we tell him that unfortunately, a crack-addled hobo stole both of our wallets and now all of our money is being spent on Slim Jims and peg-legged hookers instead of bags of plastic optical party favors. Gosh darnit.

And while I love my son and his gigantor cranium, it is nice to have a job again, which affords me a few hours of peace at night.

 But I don’t tell Chooch that’s where I go at night or he’ll expect me to buy an acre of eyeballs. It’s better to let him believe Mommy’s getting shit-faced at the corner bar.

Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 13:24 Remembered I’m seeing Chiodos on Wednesday and almost started to cry. My emotions, they are checked. #
• 15:24 Henry just trusted me to steady the stool he was using to put in a red lightbulb and then I walked away. #
• 15:29 twitpic.com/cfqo – Henry does all the decorating. No one is shocked. #
• 16:40 I do not like being dicked around. This is why I allow very few people in. #

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• 11:15 The Incredibly Shrinking Woman was the scariest movie to me when I was little. Traumatically so. It’s on right now and I shuddered. #
• 14:08 Whiniest kid ever, you’re in my backseat. Hello. STFU. #
• 19:21 Football srsly makes me murderous. #
• 10:17 Today I start my job but I’m more nervous about getting my picture taken for my security tag. #

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Kara and Chris got married on August 30. It was a beautiful ceremony. A little too beautiful, so I was glad when Kara agreed to let me break out the animal masks and inject some creep-factor up in that bitch.

“I dreamt about serial killers today when I was taking a nap,” Henry said as we got ready for bed last night. He started to elaborate, but I cut him off.

“Oh, I had the WORST dream last night.

I was on vacation. I think it was supposed to be Romania, but there were ice caps everywhere, so I think in my dream Romania had relocated to the Arctic Circle.

It was so beautiful, there were rainbows everywhere—“

Henry snorted. “Rainbows? And this was a nightmare?”

Ignoring him, I continued. “I was on a bus with this guy Jared that I haven’t even thought about since high school, and the road we were on was flush with all this water, I think it was an ocean?

” I could sense Henry holding back laughter next to me.  “And the bus driver was driving erratically and I was so afraid we were going to careen over the road and into the water—“

“But there were rainbows,” Henry reminded me, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t funny! It was a fucking scary dream. Fucking forget about the rainbows. And I remember–“

“Rainbows.”

At this point, I’m envisioning some barbed wire pulled taut around Henry’s nads, but I forge ahead with my traumatic tale.

“– in my dream, trying to find my phone so I could tweet about it, but I was distracted—“

“Probaby because of the rainbows,” Henry guessed, and started laughing into the pillow.

I never finished telling him about my dream.

Akimbo is from a series of vocabulary-inspired paintings I’m doing because I like words and I’m bored.  It’s 5.5×5.5 and has that cute little pink-haired strumpet on it. More info here.

Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 16:15 Henry seems threatened that I’ll be working with drivers again. #
• 16:34 AND the bathroom at my new job is in the BASEMENT, where it is ominous and colored with a 1950s shade of green. SO EXCITED TO USE! #
• 16:37 To celebrate, I’m feasting on Orange Tofu tonight at Zenith. And tea too. If my mind can process the massive tea menu without imploding.
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• 17:48 Some guy is sitting next to 2 boxes of stuff on the sidewalk across from my house, crying. Henry won’t let me invite him in. #
• 17:53 To see what would happen, I screamed REALLY LOUD and now the man is retreating with his two boxes. What a sissy lala. #
• 17:54 twitpic.com/c4ig – :( wah. #
• 18:51 I have an unfounded paranoia of being stood up. #
• 19:06 I always choose to meet friends at places with challenging parking. Its kind of my thing. #
• 21:04 Shared a pot of tea that had sarsaparilla in it with my friend Lindsay and I think a new addiction is blossoming. #

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Urgent. Will die without reading.

• 12:44 I’ve been sittong here with a truck on my head for twenty minutes. #
• 12:45 Also, sitting. #
• 13:38 HELLO EMPLOYMENT. #  **
• 19:29 Thinking about papering my walls with purple velvet. #
• 19:38 Crazy Mocha does the whole “hair-in-beverage” gimmick one better by making it an entire clump. Delicious. #
• 19:53 Got replacement coffee but cringe every time I sip, in fear of slurping up more mange. #
• 20:58 Chooch is tantruming because we left the “ween store”. Unforch, that’s Chooch-speak for Halloween, not weener. #
• 21:54 Chooch is burning up the remainder of his energy by dancing seizurely to Weird Paul. I approve. #

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**Yeah, so I guess no traces of narcotics were detected in my urine sample, and I got the job!

I’m going in today to fill out some paperwork and talk about training.

I’m pretty amped. I’ve had good feelings about this place from the start. Now I can continue to buy myself the weekly presents I’ve grown accustomed to.