A Lot Of Fuss Over Salt

Amber¹ came back from GNC today and, in the style of Vanna White, showed Glenn, Todd, and me the big honkin’ bottle of Pink Himalyan salt she bought.

“It’s like the new weight loss fad,” she explained, telling us about some detox thing she read about it. She said it’s hard to find now in stores because so many people are buying it, but I got excited because we have some of that at home!

“I guess Henry was trendy before everyone else!” I laughed. Then I paused and thoughtfully added, “You know, Henry has all kinds of weird salt in the kitchen…”

“Well, he cooks, doesn’t he?” Glenn snapped. “That’s why he has salt.”

Glenn and Todd started chirping about how salt is salt and there is no way that this pink shit is any better, but I had to back up Amber on this one because I just recently sprinkled some of those pretty crystals on my diet popcorn and it was great. “It really does taste better,” I insisted. “Probably because it’s pink.”

“So, you can taste colors now?” Glenn sneered. Then he immediately emailed our group a link to some article about how Pink Himalayan salt IS A SCAM.

YEAH WELL YOU’RE A SCAM, GLENN.

Amber asked me if I wanted any of her salt. “Sure, why not,” I shrugged, holding out an open palm. Walking back to my desk with a handful of freshly ground pink crystals, I said, “I feel like this is a designer drug.” I bet Jonny Craig would do it.

Glenn declined Amber’s offer. “I know what salt tastes like,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, but this is PINK,” I reminded him.

“Sorry, I can’t taste color,” he said.

Is Turkey Meat?

“Do you eat turkey bacon?” Amber called over to me from her desk. “Wait, is turkey meat?”

God, someone’s high on salt!

Papa’s On Death Row

“The Boston Marathon bomber got the death sentence,” Todd announced to us later in the afternoon. “Wow, and he’s only 21,” he said in a “that’s a damn shame” tone.

“He’ll be in there for a long time, though,” Glenn chimed in.

“Yeah, my penpal has been on death row since the 90s,” I said in my normal cheerful work tone (i.e. my “fake voice,” as Henry calls it), getting up from my desk to go on my lunch break. This allowed me to see Todd’s face as he quietly said, “Oh, for real?”

“You don’t seem very shocked that she has deathrow pen pal,” Glenn laughed.

“Oh, pen pal?!” Todd exclaimed, laughing. “I thought she said ‘papa’ at first and I was like, ‘wow, awkward’.” He told me later that for about 20 seconds, his mind was full of speeding thoughts, like, “I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE’S SO OPEN ABOUT THIS” and “OH GOD I WANT TO ASK HER WHAT HE DID!

”

I legitimately had to walk out because I was crying real tears from laughing so hard. I made a pit stop to the bathroom before going outside for my walk, and I sat in the stall laughing so hard that I know it sounded like I was under duress. After this, I proceeded to go outside where I walked around while laughing alone like a crazy person, but no one gave me a second thought because it was 4:00PM on a Friday in downtown Pittsburgh; I looked normal compared to most everyone else.

When I came back in from my break, Todd and I continued talking about our miscommunication.

“For some reason though, the funniest part to me is that you thought I call my dad ‘papa’!” I laughed, imagining myself wearing an apron and picking berries in the Alps while Papa cuts up the kindling. “The only thing my dad is notorious for is being in a Columbia Gas commercial,” I assured him.

What a weird day. I blame the salt.

This image is from Puddles’ Facebook page.

Sometime last year, back when Chris still worked with me (MEMORIES), she sent me a Post Modern Jukebox video that featured a 6’8″ clown singing “Royals.” It was enchanting! (Probably not to coulrophobes.) I just really love clowns so much!

About a month ago, I saw that Puddles Pity Party was coming to the Rex in Pittsburgh and I was like, “THAT IS THAT SUPER SEXY CLOWN WITH THE HONEY VOICE.” So I texted Chris and she and Monica were like, “Let’s do this shit.”

And Henry was like, “Yay, you have people to go with you. Peace out!”

A week prior to the show, we were sitting at a table in the Laser Storm party room when Chris told me that she made the mistake of looking up information for his shows online and discovered that he relies heavily on audience participation. I hoped that she meant like along the lines of “When I say —-, you say —-” type of bullshit. But no, she meant that he will flat out pull people out of their seat and drag them onto the stage and make them sing EVEN IF THEY DON’T KNOW THE WORDS.

Do you know how much I love music? Ask me to sing a song off the top of my head and I will fucking FREEZE because OMG there are WORDS in that song? WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER THERE BEING WORDS IN THAT SONG!?!?

EVEN THE CURE.

We had pre-Puddles dinner at the Library that evening and I made sure to drink every last drop of whatever that blueberry beer stuff was that I ordered while Chris and Monica divulged insider info regarding their upcoming wedding. I should mention that on the walk there, we passed a young couple. The girl was all, “I LOVE YOUR TATTOO” and the boy was all, “AND I LOVE YOUR PURSE.” Chooch would have been so pissed, because it was my eyeball purse, of course.

After dinner, Monica saved me from basically falling off a cliff/stepping on a rake/shambling into traffic because god forbid I should be responsible enough to safely walk down a sidewalk. The sun was in my eyes, OK?!

Once we got to the Rex, my nerves started to kick in because PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME GET ON STAGE. I was acutely aware of Chris and Monica talking about DJ Qbert, who was performing at the Rex later in the week. Monica wanted to book him for their wedding but Chris said only if he plays one Garth Brooks song. It went something like that, I think.

We look sweaty because it was like 95 degrees out, and that is real sweat on our faces. #PittsburghSpring

The Rex is not very big, and the room was full of folding chairs. Because this was a seated event. So, chairs. We stood around like kids on the first day of school, figuratively biting our fingernails while trying to decide which seats would have us looking less like sitting ducks and more like invisible nobodies. We ultimately chose a row on the left, a few rows back from the stage. I claimed the seat right next to the wall and was satisfied because the wall jutted out in front of me just enough that I could use it as a shield if necessary.

My stage fright is on another level. I keep getting worse with age, too. When I was a youngin’, I was at some dinner theater thing in Switzerland with my family and there were men on a stage playing those Ricola commercial horns. They called for volunteers, and without telling my family I was doing so, I got up from the table and ran down to the stage to blow one of those fucking horns, because why the hell not. God, that seems so long ago!

Probably because it was. It was 1990, for fuck’s sake!

Anyway, now I need to be drunk to do shit like that, and I unfortunately was not drunk on this particular night.

It was getting closer and closer to 8:00 and no one had joined us in our row.

Monica kept looking nervously at the two empty seats to her right, but later she admitted that even though she was petrified of being singled out, she kind of hoped she would be. I hoped she would be too, because what would be the odds of Puddles striking twice in the same row of chairs?

Eventually, some single broad sat down at the end of our row. I half-noticed that she and Monica exchanged a few words, starting with “Is anyone sitting here?” and the next thing I knew, Monica turned to Chris and said, “Hey Chris, this girl had her car punched in L.A., too!” because Chris used to live in L.A. and had her car punched once. So then Chris and Single Broad started comparing car-punching tales and I thought to myself, “WTF could either of them had possibly said to each other to initiate the topic of car-punching?!” I asked Monica after the show and she sincerely couldn’t remember.

My theory is that the broad thanked Monica for saving her seat while she was at the bar, and Monica said, “My fiancée had her car punched one time in L.A. TOO BAD I WASN’T THERE TO SAVE THAT.”

It was super random* and weird, which made Monica’s request to have Chooch swinging on a wrecking ball at their wedding seem reasonable.

*(Turns out, having your car punched in L.A. is actually not so random, according to Monica’s new BFF; maybe the next season of Serial should be about that.)

But then it was time for Puddles! He came in from the back of the room, carrying a suitcase and IMMEDIATELY pulled some man out of the audience. Without giving anything away, I will say that he mostly didn’t torture his non-consenting volunteers too much. Mostly he just sung Happy Birthday to them, but there was one old man who he made sing “Yesterday” and I was so thankful it wasn’t me. You guys have no idea how terrible of a singer I am unless you were around for the Blogathon days, then you unfortunately do know, and might even have waking nightmares of me singing Andy Gibb. I TRULY APOLOGIZE.

I wasn’t expecting to do so much laughing, but Puddles is a great entertainer! My favorite part was definitely when he sang Sia’s “Chandelier,” which I recorded a snippet of for Chooch:

At one point, he totally seduced this one older man in the crowd who could have been Henry’s brother.

“I REALLY wish Henry would have come!” Monica cried, and I wholeheartedly agreed.

Oh Internet, can you imagine Henry getting pulled on stage by a giant clown?! UGH, Henry is the worst for not going! I’m glad I remembered that I’m mad at him!

And none of us ended up being traumatized by a stage summons! I do wish Monica had gotten picked though.

There were no openers so the show was just over an hour long, which actually felt just right to me. Afterward, we stood in line for free Puddles Cuddles, and my anxiety came back because I hate having my picture taken, but I HAD TO GET ONE because a picture of Puddles will look so wonderful in my future clown room. And then it ended up being OK, because I just made a sad face, which is more natural on me than a smile. So this is basically my regular face:

AND GUESS WHO LIKED MY PURSE, CHOOCH? Oh just my new friend, PUDDLES, no big deal!

On the way back to the car, we stopped at Le Petit Chocolat for cupcakes and chocolate, and I was pleasantly surprised! These were pretty damn close to my beloved Vanilla Pastry Studio masterpieces.

Clowns and cupcakes—what a night! I wouldn’t have known about Puddles if not for Chris, so thank you Chris! It’s always nice to go to a show that’s a bit out of my wheelhouse. #noscreaming

On Mothers Day we went to Delgrosso’s  and I had a fun day.  Of course Mommy wanted to go on the Wacky Worm first because she’s obsessed with it. So we went to the bathroom first because if I say I have to go the while we’re there daddy will get pissed. So after the Wacky Worm we went on the Crazy Mouse and  a lot of the rides were getting maintenance checked and we waited in line for a while. Since the ride only has 5 carts we went on in like 5minutes. Then mommy and  I went on the Music Express and the Umbrellas. Then  I got ice cream which was Chocolate Marshmallow and I wanted to go on the Pirate Ship (aka Pharaoh’s Fury) by MYSELF because Daddy never gets a bracelet and mommy didn’t want to get sick because she wanted to go on more rides. While I was in line Daddy was EATING my ice cream and I only had a quarter  of it and daddy had half . In line I screamed at him and the people in front of me laughed.

But mommy gets to eat ALL of her ice cream (she just said “Because I’m the best”)

Daddy gave me 1 dollar for 1 game to win on and I picked  a game where you have to put BALLS IN A CLOWN’S MOUTH (which sounds so wrong) It was pretty easy minus the fact fact where you have to get 1 ball in each slot. It took me 2 tries to win. I won this CUTE ,PURPLE ,FLUFFY ,DELIRIOUS , AND PRETTY  PIG. I won it for mommy and then she said “Oh thanks, you can keep It in your room though.” I was okay with that. We named him Pukey JR. Then mommy and I went on the Tilt-a-Whirl which was under maintenance but we were the first people on the Tilt-a-Whirl since the whole day. It wasn’t a surprise but every time mommy wants to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl she gets sick. The last ride of the day was the Wacky Worm. We had a fun day at Delgrosso’s.

(BONUS!!!) The day before Delgrosso’s daddy and I went to Michael’s then Ulta to get mommy a present for Mothers Day. I really wanted a sticker book for while we are going to Delgrosso’s and in the car  for 2 hours. Daddy wondered how much it was I said 13 US DOLLARS and 20 CANADIAN DOLLARS. He said “OH HELL NO I BUY ENOUGH S*** FOR YOU!” I threw a fit the whole way into Ulta and I put on makeup in there and daddy was pissed. On the way back home from Delgrosso’s we went to a restaurant called Valley Dairy. Our waitress was named Sarah and some waiter was basically doing our whole service because Sarah was slow and having a rough ,rough day. (Speaking of having a rough day, Sarah in my class was having a rough day because her nose was bleeding like all day Tuesday and Wednesday.)

Sarah finally came to our service and asked for our order. After dinner I ordered a Clown Sundae and I sadly made fun of it and mommy said Sarah was having a rough day. I liked the sundae though that’s all that matters.

Quick! Let’s huff the fuck out of this blog post.

• Wendy and I had lunch at Villa Reale on Friday and she let me have the leftover pizza, and kept saying, “MAKE SURE YOU REMEMBER TO TAKE IT HOME TONIGHT” and I felt so panicked about forgetting and letting her down, so I had to write myself a note on my hand, and then I drew a picture as an extra reminder because I’m 35 and you can’t tell me what to do. (But really, who can forget about pizza?)
  • Speaking of pizza, I know that it’s like super trendy all of a sudden to be a pizza connoisseur, and I love me some pizza too, but I’m still grilled cheese’s #1. Also, I’m super picky about pizza and do not subscribe to the “even bad pizza is good pizza” ideology. (I mean, I’ll still eat it. Usually*.)
    • *I threw an entire pizza across the house one time because I hated it. (It had onions on it. CRUNCHY ONIONS.) Ask Henry. It was during our first year dating and he came back after that, for some reason.

• Can you believe Henry had the audacity to send me this text this morning? I was like, “FUCK OFF YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO” so I left the house without a “light jacket.” I figured I would be OK because I was wearing a sweater. Wrong. It was pretty chilly. So then I called Henry on my walk to the trolley and complained about being chilly because I’m 35 and you can’t tell me what to do!!
• Yesterday, I bailed out Todd at work (as usual! It’s hard work being everyone’s savior), so he was calling me She-Ra, which made me super happy. But then today, he said it again and I realized he was actually saying “She-ro,” like a female hero, and I mean, that was still cool but it’s no She-Ra. So then Todd was like, “WTF is a She-Ra, anyway?” and Amber¹ and I were like, “GTFO how do you not know who She-Ra is, she’s the motherfucking Princess of Power, for fuck’s sake” so then that turned into an early morning discussion and I felt inspired to make a She-Ra Glenn. While I was drawing it, I had some mad deja vu, so I checked the poster board of orginal Glenns and sure enough, I had already made a She-Ra Glenn in 2012. “Way to be redundant,” Glenn mumbled.

• Speaking of awesome 80’s cartoons, we also discussed our annoyance at the new Jem and the Holograms movie coming out this fall. First, Sandy and I yelled to each other about it across the floor and then when Amber¹ got here later, she and I talked about it too, so then I told Allison that if there is one thing she takes away from work today, I hope it’s that broads in their 30s are very upset about the Jem and the Holograms movie. Of course Allison was like, “I don’t even know what Jem is because I’m not an old person.”

• My friend Kelly tweeted this to me the other day and I was like FUCK YES and then rubbed it in Henry’s face. He was like, “OK, I never said I didn’t like them.” Seriously though, I 100% don’t expect people to like the music I post on here, or even bother listening to it in the first place, so when something like this happens, I feel like a tiny victory over Top 40 music has been won. <3
  • P.S. It occurred to me that I didn’t ask Kelly if I could post this, so I used some trusty Catwangs to protect her Twitter identity from you fools.

• Here is a photographical quad of my child whining and sweating. This was pre-Ulta melt-down on Saturday. Sticker book or not, I don’t think Henry really stood a chance that night. When Chooch gets in a mood, NOTHING HELPS.
• Henry was apparently “mad” at me all day yesterday (lol) but he still picked me up from work and proceeded to “ignore me” which just made me crack up, so then he started cracking up too because HE CAN’T STAY MAD AT MY ADORABLE TURTLE FACE.

• #SPOONSELFIE. Chooch was angry about this one when he saw it. #HenryJr. The novelty of The Spoon has not worn off yet.
• So, two years ago, we were “Those People” who got suckered into buying some vacation package at the COUNTY FAIR. The COUNTY FAIR, you guys. Anyway, it was for a few nights at some resort in Williamsburg, VA and it is totally one of those timeshare things where you have to sit through some excruciating presentation. But, it was cheap, the resort is beautiful, and we got the Busch Gardens hook-up, which is clearly the only reason Williamsburg would ever be on my radar. We only have two years to use it and Henry FINALLY made our reservations for my birthday week in July and I am so fucking stoked about this because once we’re done tearing shit up in Virginia, we’re making our way down to Savannah and Tybee Island to meet up with my amazing gypsy friend Octavia and her family! I love planning vacations around out-of-town friends. One day, I WILL MEET YOU ALL.
  • I originally said that Henry has to sit through this timeshare thing on his own, but he was like, “Oh no no no this was your idea and we both have to do it” and at first I was like, “I’m 35 and you can’t tell me what to do” but then I pictured the giggle-vomiting that’s bound to happen once I’m in that room. YOU ASKED FOR IT, HENRY.

• ^Sign of a good weekend! The events that these wristbands belong to will be written about later this week (I promise, Monica!). They were some good times!

• Yesterday was Janna’s birthday! Bottoms up, you Robitussin lush!

• Chooch waited until 9:00PM Sunday night to try to learn how to crochet. I’m sure you can guess how that went. Lots of rage and tears. “TAKE ME TO CHRIS AND MONICA’S SO THEY CAN HELP ME!” he wailed. Henry was like, “Sure. I don’t have a problem with that. They might, though.”

Ciao for now!

Kurt Travis – “It’s All Over”

I was revisiting the latest Kurt Travis solo album last night (“Everything Is Beautiful”) and forgot how much I loved it, especially THISSONG OHGODBESTILLMYHEART. Chooch and I were watching live performances of it on YouTube (and also PVRIS interviews, because Chooch and I are scene girls); we love taking over the TV and making Henry sit sadly in a corner, wishing he was watching some dumb show on Spike TV.

“Maybe if it was a live Judas Priest video, you would care,” I said.

“Yeah, because that’s what I do in my spare time: watch live Judas Priest videos,” Henry snapped.

Anyway, this song is everything, please listen. (If you hate it I’M SORRY. I DID NOT WRITE THIS SONG.) I can’t wait to see Kurt again soon. (Ideally, not with Jonny Craig next time*.)

*OMG this is a Henry guest post and it’s worth reading if you’re a fan of Henry being angry and forced to do things.

Meaty Thighs Are OK.

We were getting ready to leave for Delgrosso’s yesterday morning when I decided to have one of my standard “Wah, I’m so fat” shit fits. I always figure that Chooch isn’t paying attention to this shit, because why would he? My whining is not that interesting nor is it even slightly relevant. But then from the other room, while playing some stupid game on Xbox, he piped up with, “You’re not fat. You’re like Nicki Minaj. She has a big butt and thighs like you, and she’s still skinny. Kim Kardashian, too.” That weird little pep talk was a better Mother’s Day gift than the Urban Decay Vice palette that he and Henry got me!

Chooch’s Oh Snap Moment

On our way home from Delgrosso’s, we stopped at the mother of all Sheetz in Altoona. “Is this the Sheetz we went to that one time when we were fighting?” I asked Henry, referring to the miserable drive home he and I had from Allentown, PA last Memorial Day weekend. Chooch chimed in from the backseat, “Well, mommy, that’s hard to say, because you guys are always fighting.” His tell-all is going to be something else. (Also, we are not ALWAYS fighting! It’s mostly just me fighting.)

Also, with the music I listen to and all of my mental issues, Chooch has heard A LOT of screaming over the years.

Pickle Spreadsheets

We stopped at Valley Dairy for dinner. At first, we thought it was going to be an issue because we had to wake Chooch up from a nap and he is a fucking beast when awakened, so before we were seated, things were pretty sketchy. But then the opposite personality won out and we ended up with Super Entertaining Giggle Fit Chooch. One of the things that made him lose his shit started with a pickle. “Don’t you like pickles?” he asked me, noting that I hadn’t eaten the pickle on my grilled cheese plate.

My mouth was full, so Chauvinistic Henry answered for me. “She likes pickles, but 98% of the time, she leaves them on her plate.” He was so eager to divulge these statistics about my pickle proclivity! I had no idea Henry had been keeping such close tabs on my gherkin grazing.

“What, are you keeping a spreadsheet?” I asked Henry snidely.

Chooch considered this for a statement and then asked, “What’s a spreadsheet? Is that what the doctor puts over a lady before she has a baby?”

I fucking lost it right there at that Valley Dairy table, over top of my grilled cheese and the pickle that had only 2% chance of exploring my digestive tract, next to Henry who for once was unable to keep a straight face, and then Chooch started choking because he was laughing so hard, too.

“What?” Chooch laughed, trying to play innocent. “I see those all the time on the shows daddy watches.”

“Oh, he’s watching A Baby Story again, then?” I asked, and Henry just frowned. He only lets himself laugh for so long, you know. Then it’s back on the red eye to Frown Town.

Chooch and his “clown” sundae.

Stickers Make Chooch Pretty

I kept hearing about some sticker book that Henry wouldn’t buy Chooch at the craft store Saturday night. I felt bad at first, because I was hugely into stickers when I was his age, and I fondly told them about all of the sticker books I had, and the one that was especially for scratch-n-sniff, and how I used to stuff them all in a big purple tote bag that started to rip in one corner because so many sticker books were sardined in there. I heard Chooch emit a disgusted sigh; he hates when I get nostalgic because the theme is almost always Erin’s Charmed Childhood Where She Got Everything She Wanted. EXCEPT THE UNCONDITIONAL LOVE OF MY MOM, CHOOCH. (He doesn’t care about that yet.)

“What kind of sticker book did you want?” I asked Chooch.

“It was Pokémon and—-”

“Oh,” I waved him off. “I wouldn’t have bought it for you either. That sounds dumb.”

He started to get real defensive and tried to explain all of the merits of this dumb sticker book, and Henry sighed heavily and dragged his hands down his face.

“This is what I went through all last night,” Henry said. “We left Michaels and he threw a fit in the middle of Ulta when I was trying to buy your Mother’s Day present.”

Chooch started giggling uncontrollably as Henry told the tale of the tantrum, because there’s little Chooch enjoys more in life than hearing about what a spoiled brat he is and how he embarrasses us. So while Henry told me about how Chooch LAYED IN  THE MIDDLE OF THE STORE WHINING and how Henry turned around just in time  to see him applying one of the tester lipsticks straight on his mouth, Chooch was nearly swallowing his tongue from laughing so hard.

Half the restaurant was staring at us because sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s crying or laughing.

“This is what it’s like to be around you and Corey, by the way!” Henry said accusatorily.

“And then I was smearing eye shadow on my fingers like nail polish!” Chooch wailed, reaching the point of hiccups. He was laughing so hard that we could see the cherry from his clown sundae (made shoddily by our waitress Sarah who was having a really bad day so I made Henry leave her a nice tip but mostly because she reminded me of Lynn Gunn from PVRIS) resting precariously on his tongue, a choking hazard lying in wait.

Henry grumpily told me that he had to practically bathe Chooch in makeup remover before they left the store. This whole scene was hilarious to me, that the catalyst was a fucking Pokémon sticker book that he is STILL talking about! So now Chooch and I were both laughing our faces off and Henry was so uncomfortable.

These are the things that I want to remember the most about Mother’s Day.

7 comments

This is my new favorite thing & I get so gleeful over it. He busts me 75% of the time now though, even when I think I’m being slick. “Did you get your damn picture?” he’ll mutter.  

The “Henry Has to Rest His Glasses On Top of His Head In Order to Look at His Phone” shot.

BONUS VIDEO: The “Ignoring the Pretend Concert I Have Going On In Front of Him” live action shot.

The “Henry Photo-Bombed Our Spoon Selfie” shot.

The “Henry’s Making Me Iced Coffee Because I’m ‘Too Weak'” shot.

The “Henry’s Playing Some Stupid Video Game in a Spoon” shot.

The “Driving Miss Erin to DelGrosso’s Amusement Park” shot.

The “Yeah bitch, buy us that ice cream” shot.

The “Being a Good Boy & Calling His Mama on Mother’s Day” shot.

The “Too Lame to Ride the Wacky Worm” shot.

The “We’re on the Crazy Mouse But Where’s Henry?” shot.

The “Welp, Chooch is Riding the Pirate Ship So I Guess I’ll Have to Eat His Ice Cream Cone” shot.

The “Holding Our Shit While We’re on the Wacky Worm Again” shot.

The “Washing Windows with Vinegar Which Is ‘Just As Good As Windex But Safer'” shot.

Disclaimer: I can’t write objectively about Dance Gavin Dance and this post is all over the place because I’m like a little kid who just ate three meals of candy.

Before I get into the juicy details of last week’s Dance Gavin Dance show, please indulge me while I explain the sordid history of this band and what it has been like to be a fan: I go through a lot of phases, musically, but my love for Dance Gavin Dance has only gotten stronger over the years. From the moment I first heard them in my car, driving home from Cincinnati in the winter of 2008, I was entranced. I had just randomly downloaded a bunch of their stuff based on their band name and the fact that they were listed on PureVolume as post-hardcore and that is MY FAVORITE GENRE. (The amount of times I have struggled to explain what ‘post-hardcore” means to people at work is hilarious; it’s kind of like the new “wtf is emo?” in that it’s almost impossible for me to put into layman’s terms. Wiki it, I guess? Good luck!) Downtown Battle Mountain is right up there on my Stranded on an Island album list.

This was also, sadly, the start of a 7-year relationship-threatening obsession with their original clean vocalist, Jonny Craig. Thankfully, he’s no longer in DGD, which is great because I hate him now and he could have easily destroyed DGD.

Jonny era:

To this day, I have yet to hear another band that sounds even remotely like them and, in my opinion, they have only gotten better with age. The only time my love for them was strained was after they kicked out Jonny for the first time and replaced him with Kurt Travis for two albums. Look, I LOVE Kurt Travis. But during that time, their screamer Jon Mess had also left the band and his role has always been one of my favorite parts of DGD. (In fact, I think I actually fangirl over Jon more than anyone else in the band.) I only saw them live twice during the Kurt Travis-era, and ironically once was a tour where past, present and future DGD vocalists were all on: Jonny Craig was there with Emarosa, Kurt with DGD, and Tilian was there with Tides of Man. (This was in 2009, and it was also the first time I ever saw Of Mice & Men and then fell in love with Of Machines, who are sadly no longer together.) It just didn’t click with me, though I have much more appreciation for the Kurt albums now than I did then.

Kurt era:

The summer of 2010, they brought Jonny back for a new album and a tour and this was supposed to be their swan song; Jon Mess came back too and it was like the biggest music orgasm for me. I got to see Jonny perform with DGD twice after that and it was like a dream come true, and then they announced that they were going to write another new album with Jonny and it seemed like their future was so bright. Except that Jonny is a forever fuck-up and they ended up having to kick him out again, in the middle of a tour. It seemed like this was it for them for sure. Maybe Jon, Will, and Matt would just make their side project, Secret Band, their priority.

But then they announced that Tilian Pearson, formerly of Tides of Man, would be their new singer. I was on the fence. In 2011, I saw Emarosa with Tilian as an interim singer; Jonny, who was trying to be in Emarosa and DGD at the same time that year, was forced off the Emarosa tour and into detox on the same day as the Pittsburgh show. Tilian’s brother’s band at the time was also on that tour, so I guess that’s how Tilian came into play. Tilian did fine…but he wasn’t Jonny. And this is how I felt the first time I saw him with DGD at the Altar Bar. It felt wrong to me. But you guys, when they eventually recorded new music with Tilian, everything fell into place and I made a statement that I never thought I would say: Tilian is my favorite DGD singer. They just sound so cohesive with him, and he has really gotten more comfortable with performing the old stuff too. All of that said, it has been a really rewarding time to be a DGD fan. I’m Team Tilian, and DGD remains one of my favorite bands of all time.

(Henry is probably reading this and thinking, “Trust me, this is the short version.”)

Tilian era:

ANYWAY! I’m so excited because their second album with Tilian just came out in April and they were here in Pittsburgh last Sunday! I had butterflies in my stomach all weekend and kept shouting, “AREN’T YOU SO EXCITED?!?” in Henry’s face. Surprisingly, he doesn’t hate them like you would expect him to. He admitted a few years ago that he kind of liked them and I just knew it. The Robot With Human Hair Pt 2 was his ringtone for me for awhile, for Christ’s sake! He just doesn’t like being the token Old Man at all of their shows, is all.

• Henry was annoyed because instead of sitting in the car and waiting for doors to open, he had to stand in line with all of the kids. To be fair, the average age was probably about 24, but I guess when you’re as old as Henry, even that constitutes as a “kid.” There was this one teenage boy in front of us, though. His name was Collin and I know this because his mom pulled up alongside the line in her mom-wagon and started shouting, “Collin! Collin! COLLIN!” until he dejectedly left the line and walked over to her car with his head down. “I can’t wait to do that shit to Chooch,” I laughed. “Yeah, except you’ll be calling from another part of the line,” Henry mumbled. And this is probably true. Unless he starts listening to crappy bands when he’s older.
• I had a tiny container of miniature Altoids, and I tried to get Henry to pretend like they were Grown-Up drugs with me, but he was like, “Don’t be stupid.”
• As soon as we got inside Mr. Small’s, I saw Christopher Kim at the Polyphia merch booth and I got so excited! He recently made waves for leaving Jonny Craig’s current band, Slaves, and has been pretty candid on Twitter about how fucked that band is so of course I love him because Team Anyone But Slaves. I was too shy to say anything to him so I took the creepy way out and tweeted about seeing him and then he favorited it so basically, we met.
• Henry plied me with Angry Orchard in an attempt to get me to stop talking a mile a minute. I WAS SO EXCITED!!!!
• Stolas was the opening band. We saw them last September with Hail the Sun and Icarus the Owl and I loved them immediately. They’re on Will Swan’s label, Blue Swan, and are part of this intricate, technical post-hardcore sub genre that I feel like DGD should take full credit for; they’re the godfathers of this style at this point. I’ve never been a fan of prog-rock in the traditional sense, but when elements of this style is car-crashed with a post-hardcore foundation, it makes me want to start punching faces. Stolas was the perfect way to start this night. My favorite part about them is that some parts of their songs downright sound like incantations. Henry’s review: “No.”
• I like to call Henry “bae” sometimes, ironically of course, just to annoy him. But when I’m really giddy, and I was Really Giddy, I apparently called him my ride or die. “Can I choose ‘or die’?” he mumbled, while continuing to look at whatever uninteresting info his phone was showing him.
• A band I used to love was playing whilePolyphia was setting up and I played Henry’s favorite game with him, which is “Trying to Get Henry to Guess the Band & Making Him Feel Like Shit When He Fails.” Here are the clues I gave him:
  • This album is called The Ugly Organ.
  • Henry hates them.
  • Tim Kasher is their singer.
  • His other band is The Good Life.
  • We saw them at Coachella in 2004.
  • Saddlecreek.
  • “My ego’s like my stomach– it keeps shitting what I feed it.”
    • If you guessed Cursive, then you have one more point than Henry does.
• Hail the Sun is amazing. That’s literally the note I wrote myself in my phone. This was my fourth time seeing them and they just keep getting better. We saw their drummer/singer Donovan outside of the venue when we were in line and even Henry knew who he was because HE CAN’T ESCAPE THIS SCENE. Imagine how boring his life would be if he was with a girl who only listened to the radio. Boring, but probably a lot happier and with less headaches, haha. Henry’s review: “*shrugged* It’s too early in the morning for this. You should have been a news reporter.”
• The crowd was so much better than at the Circa Survive show earlier in the week. I was basically in love with every one there. Maybe those really were Grown-Up Drugs in my Altoids tin….
  • The cider also helped.
• Polyphia, holy shit. This was my first time seeing them and they blew my fucking mind. Like CHON, they’re also 100% instrumental. The crowd went apeshit over them and I think it says a lot about the talent of a band when they can capture the attention of young people without gimmicks or, you know, a vocalist. Henry did not like them, but that means nothing.

And then……..DGD!

Here are the notes I had in my phone:

• THUG CITY
• EVERYTHING IS AMAZING
• PERFECT CROWD
• JONNY WHO
• TILIAN IS THE BEST

Oh no, tangent: What I love the most about DGD fans is that most of them are music geeks in that they understand and appreciate the technicality involved in DGD’s music. These are the kinds of people who want to meet Will Swan after the show to talk about time signatures and ask him about his pedals. This is why I think that DGD is so fucking underrated. They’ve been unfairly marginalized and stuffed into a generic scene pigeonhole, which is why I think that their fan base remains young. Young people keep their minds open when it comes to music. Granted, there were some people at the show around my age, but it made me wonder: why hasn’t their fan base grown with them? Why do people hit a certain age in their 20s and just abandon what they used to love? I hope that doesn’t happen to me, ever.

DON’T PANIC, I’VE GOT A PLAN:

Tilian can sing any of the Jonny-era songs with motherfucking panache.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY! This post is all over the place, just like their music, and just like my brain. One of the things that I miss most about Barb not working at The Law Firm anymore is that I wasn’t able to go to work the next day and vomit all of my feelings onto her desk. She was always so good about patiently listening to me jaw off about DGD! I remember telling her a long time ago that I liked this music because it panders to the dysfunction in my head; it’s what my brain would play if you plopped it on a turntable and put the needle down.

“I just love Jon Mess so much!” I shouted to Henry. “Did you know he’s a genius?” I LOVE REMINDING HENRY OF THAT! I have never loved a screamer so much before.

I didn’t stop moving the entire night and my body spent the next two days reminding me of Sunday’s perfection. I think I smiled all day long on Monday. MONDAY! Come at me, work week; I just saw DGD.

I’m so proud of this band for powering through all of the shit and turmoil and managing to create two beautiful works of art with Tilian. It feels so good to be a DGD fan. One of these days, I’m going to finally get that Robot with Human Hair tattoo. He might be holding a sword-speared strawberry.

Henry’s review: “I’ve heard all of these songs. Many times.”

**Party Peeps**

• Zac
• Lucy
• Olivia & Sophia
• Owen
• Jolee
• Sharyn
• Harland
• Kara
• Chris and Monica
• Corey
• Janna

Chooch decided a while back that he wanted to have a laser tag birthday party, even though none of us have played before. Believe me, I was fine with this because it meant SMALL. As in: FEW KIDS. I’m not sure who was more excited the day of his party: Chooch or me.

Once everyone arrived, our personal party coordinator came in and led us to the laser tag holding cell, where she bumbled through the rules of the game and pretty much had us utterly confused. We split into two teams without hesitation: Awesome Adults vs. Dumb Kids. And then Janna “accidentally” gouged the back of my arm with her stupid laser gun and I was like “Bitch, best count your blessings that we’re on the same damn team.”

But then I noticed that after Henry was done helping all of the kids suit up, he stayed over on their side. “C’mon, Erin. They have to have at least one adult or it won’t be fair!”

Yeah, exactly! Why give them a chance!?

I was instantly nervous about this. Henry and I being on opposing teams means that Super Competitive Extreme Asshole Erin comes out. I was hoping that we could be on the same team so that I wouldn’t have to get stressed out and possibly risk eviction from Laser Storm and/or losing a friend. (I really think this is why my friend Stacey hasn’t come to one of my game nights since 2009. I get real ugly.) So look, I’m competitive in general, but as soon as the competition involves Henry as an opponent, I take it to new levels. Any old friends reading this remember the dreaded New Years Eve Trivial Pursuit debacle that resulted in me flipping over the game board (the table was too heavy to flip) and screaming about how everyone hates me all over some question about Yoshi? And then spending the next year constantly bringing up the fact that not a single person there that night cared enough to stop me from driving home drunk and psychotic?

O MEM’RIES.

My mantra is always, “I don’t care if I lose as long as Henry doesn’t win.” And the sad thing is that he genuinely always wants me to win!

I’m sorry, Henry fans, but as soon as our respective team doors opened to the laser tag arena, Henry went from being my loving life partner/father of my child/all-around Jeeves to motherfucking Bin Laden. I COULDN’T WAIT TO SHOOT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!

One of the twins was smart and chose my team. She said she didn’t want to be on her sister’s team, and I understood. SHE WANTED TO WIN.

Once we were in the darkened room, a strange combination of panic and adrenaline melted over me and I realized I forgot everything we learned, all of the rules, all of the objectives. But then I remembered that I had but one mission: KILL HENRY. So I put my blinders on to everything but Henry’s dumb head and I shot that motherfucker every single chance I got. I even did the whole run-dive-shoot thing at one point and sincerely hurt my hip but I think my shot hit him so it was obviously worth it.

Oh, and no big deal, but my team won.

Because Henry is a cheap-ass, he only paid for ONE ROUND of laser tag. And apparently one round is only like 15 minutes! (Which apparently is long enough for my hair to stick to my neck with war-sweat.) Luckily, we had the party room for an hour and a half though, so we didn’t have to kick anyone out after the game was over.

Back in the party room, Party Warden passed out everyone’s score cards and I was pleased to see that I at least beat Janna. I don’t think any of the kids so much as glanced at their score cards, but us adults studied and compared ours obsessively for a good ten minutes. Monica was extremely disturbed by the inaccuracy of her score card and I think it came close to ruining her whole day. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many times you hit base, because it’s worth ZERO POINTS,” she announced bitterly.

Asshole Henry shot me one time more than I shot him, so that sucked. But the real victory was that Henry was NOT the MVP of the whole entire game—Corey was! SUCK IT, HENRY!

But then Corey kept bragging about being MVP and I was like, “UGH SUCK IT, COREY!”

I took this picture shortly after I burst Corey’s MVP bubble by snapping, “Whatever, at least I can see colors.” #mybrotheriscolorblind

In this picture, you will note Henry’s naturally-sour face looking even more acerbic. Apparently, he had taste-tested the Sierra Mist and was appalled. “IT HAS NO TASTE!” he said repeatedly until people eventually started looking around the room and saying, “Do you hear something? Is someone talking to us? Oh, it’s just Henry.”

He ended up sending back the Sierra Mist because it was “just carbonation.” He was a huge dick about it too. The party warden was like, “Shucks sir, I have no idea what you’re bitching about but sure, I’ll bring you another pitcher if it means you’ll stop twitching your molester ‘stach in my general direction.” That broad could not wait for our 90 minutes to expire.

If Henry had a blog, his version of this day would be all about how he saved the children from imbibing defective soft drinks, spent so much money in order to buy his son’s happiness, and probably some boring anecdote about when he was in THE SERVICE not fighting in a war. Laser tag was probably more dangerous and combative than anything he did while “SERVING.”

Included in the party package was a cake, and it was actually not as disgusting as I imagined it would be. We sang the weirdest version of Happy Birthday to Chooch, and I have no idea who set the tone, but it sounded like a fucking funeral dirge. (See also: Nick Cave singing Gregorian chants to a dead person.) I thought maybe it was just me, but afterward, everyone seemed to mutually agree that it was weird and the party warden looked nervous.

In this picture, Monica is using the calculator on her phone to work out what her actual score was since none of her base hits made it on her score card.

All of the kids got tokens for the game room afterward, and there were a bunch left over so the rest of us practically mauled Henry for some.

Monica was obsessed with this old broad with her nose in a Danielle Steele book who had the audacity to make disgusted scowls at all of the children running around making gleeful sounds. She was sitting so close to the skee ball row that it’s surprising that no one tried to roll one of the balls off her surly, disapproving face.

“Seriously? You expect to be able to read your book peacefully in a LASER TAG ARENA?!” Monica scoffed. “Please take a picture of her,” she whispered to me.

I don’t remember being so terrible at skee ball. I gave the rest of my tokens to some child.

Chris texted me before the party and said that one of the gifts she bought him might be a bit girlish, and should she wait until the other kids weren’t around before giving it to him? I said no, because I’m always up for watching my child being humiliated, but it turned out to be a “yummy crochet” kit and he could barely contain all of the stoked feelings. Chooch mentioned not too long, at dinner with Chris and Monica, that he wanted to learn how to crochet (specifically, the Japanese style of crocheting, amigurumi). Of course, this conversation turned weird, with the suggestion that Chris become possessed by the ghost of Henry’s late grandmother in order to teach Chooch how to crochet.

Hey, if you read the post about Chooch’s actual birthday, then you already know the spoon story. But here it is again, anyway, BECAUSE I LOVE TELLING IT! We had a small family party on Chooch’s real birthday, and by the end of the night, he was exhausted and cranky. Some might say his “inner Erin” was coming out. When he walked past Corey on his way to bed, he stopped and in this totally shitty, sarcastic tone, said, “Oh and thanks for much for the present, Corey.”

“Your mom said I could just bring your present to your laser tag party next week!” Corey cried defensively.

“Whatever, it’s probably just going to be a spoon,” Chooch spat in a spoiled tone. And as he began to walk away, he paused and added, “For me to shove up my ass!” He wasn’t even trying to be funny, but Corey, Janna and I all fucking lost it. It was late, we were slap-happy, and then that happened and it turned into A Thing.

Corey made a note in his phone that just said “Get spoon.”

And oh, he got a spoon, alright. Corey had it tucked in the gift bag with the actual presents he bought Chooch, but I suggested that we take the real presents out and hide them, so it looked like literally all he got Chooch was a spoon.

When Chooch pulled it out of the bag, he was so confused. I couldn’t believe he had forgotten in a week! His cousin Zac said, “Is that for your mom to beat you?” and all of his friends were just like, “Your parties are so weird.” It wasn’t until he read the card that he realized it was from Corey and then it all kind of clicked, so he stormed off to “have words” with him. Total highlight of the party.

The Spoon. It has become something of a phenomenon in our house. We take #spoonselfies now and Henry is making a plaque for it so that when Chooch isn’t toting it around, he’ll have a place to hang it for the night.

In this short video, you can see the tail end of Monica saving my face from acquiring a basketball imprint, laser tag sounds (that’s my dumb voice screaming “OH MY G—-” at the end), and the Unwrapping of the Spoon. I wish I had a video of the super-sad Zoloft commercial happy birthday serenade, but COREY deleted it because he didn’t like how his VOICE sounded! Ugh, the worst!

***

Chooch just strutted past in his underwear and I asked him if he had anything to add while I’m writing this. He said, “Yeah, thanks for the spoon, Corey.” And then as he ascended the staircase to his room, he mumbled, “I love it.”

I still have no idea how we managed to not get kicked out.

HAHA SIKE. This is just another post about Warped Tour and not actually the maniacal manifesto/illegible murder confession that I think some people (Henry) have been nervously expecting.

Every time I look at the Warped Tour lineup for 2015, I feel like I might have immaculately conceived. The only downside is that there is no way I’m going to be able to see every single band on my list; there are just too many and some are bound to overlap. #musicfestivalproblems

In all of my obsessive Warped Tour thinking/planning/daydreaming, I uncovered some photos of Chooch that I never posted from his first time at Warped Tour in 2013. They were lost in some random desktop folder, probably Henry’s fault.

Christofer Drew is offering 45-minute songwriting classes this summer and Chooch and I have been talking about whether he wants me to sign him up for that or not. It costs extra, and if he’s going to get all starstruck like the last time he met Christofer, then that’s kind of a waste.

Chooch was all pissed off a few weeks ago because he was waiting for the bus that takes him to the after school program, when some middle school girl walked past him, saw that he was wearing a Pierce the Veil shirt, and said, “You probably don’t even listen to Pierce the Veil.” Bitch, he was singing Isles and Glaciers songs when he was still sitting in a CAR SEAT, so shut your dumb face.

If she only knew that he was practically born into this scene! Last night, I was YouTubing live Dance Gavin Dance videos while Chooch was putting together some Minecraft Lego thing, when he said, “Put on something from when Kurt Travis was the singer.” And then we watched an entire A Lot Like Birds show.

Because clearly, Chooch is a poser.

I hope we see that girl at the Sleeping With Sirens show next month. You know, if she was able to get tickets before they sold out in less than 5 days.

I posted a picture of my Warped Tour ticket (it’s the special 3D collectors ticket with Choonimals artwork, duh) on Instagram and WARPED TOUR REGRAMMED ME!

^^^^ Totally the apogee of my Instagram tenure.

TWO MORE MONTHS. TWO MORE MONTHS. TWO MORE MOTHERFUCKING MONTHS!!!

I haven’t had as much time to paint lately (or blog or take pictures or make greeting cards or breathe for that matter), and I still have some more custom paintings to finish, but I’m hoping to start filling up the shop again real soon! If they’d only let me paint at work, I could get so much more done.

 But here are three things that I have recently completed!

****

Do you like SNACKS?

Do you like SPACE?

Then maybe you might also like my painting Snax in Space.

It features various snacks in space. It’s snacky and spacey all in one place.

And it can be all yours for $35, 20% of which will go to Animal Friends of Pittsburgh if purchased before the end of May! Click here to purchase thru Etsy! It’s for a good cause!

In related news, I just finished up a custom pet angel painting. Super sad story behind it, and I was honored to paint these furry babes.

I also made a small typography-type painting for a co-worker to give to a friend; it had some of her favorite sayings on it and it was definitely out of my wheel house, big I had a lot of fun making it. I stupidly didn’t take a picture (it was a rush order), but you can see part of it in the background of this picture:

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.

Let’s recover from the weekend with a new collection of Henry Bombs!

The “Henry’s Not Sitting In My New Car” shot.

The “Have Fun With Your New Car; I’ll Just Ride Chooch’s Bike” shot.

The “Treat Yo’Self to a Frosty” shot.

The “Taking a Stroll Down Memory Lane at His Sister’s House” shot.

The “Henry’s  Arms Are Akimbo Because He Knows What I’m Doing” shot.

The “Getting the Rocks Out of His Shoes” shot.

The “Attending a Show at Mr. Small’s Twice In Less than a Week, FML” shot.

***

In related my news, my friend Elaine suggested that I start a Henry’s Frowns Facebook page, and I’m totally on board with that. It could be a REAL LIFE CLUB! With MEMBERSHIP CARDS! And STICKERS! And NEWSLETTERS with WORD SEARCHES!

Me, looking around at all of the groups of friends who were stoked to be seeing Circa Survive together: Don’t you wish we had a crew?

Henry: Nope. I wish you did.

*********

Tuesday, April 28th marked my 4th time seeing Circa Survive in the span of one year. (The 6th time seeing Anthony Green in general, though, if you count the Sound of Animals Fighting and Saosin.) And it’s  too early in the morning for me to attempt and count how many times since 2005. Suffice to say, I really love this band and I was giddy as fuck all day at work because I was going to see them that night.

We went straight to Millvale after Henry picked me up from work and ate at the Grant Bar & Lounge. How have I been going to shows at Mr. Small’s for more than a decade and never eaten here?! And to think we were originally going to eat at the Subway across the street.

This place was everything I love in a dive: First, you have to walk through the bar to get to the dining room so you can take a quick tour of the town’s underbelly. And the walls are faux-stone! It was so Bavarian! I LOVE BAVARIAN.

Old school waitress buzzer!

I can’t really explain why else I liked this joint so much, other than you could tell it hadn’t been renovated since before I was born. I love dark, cave-like restaurants.

Henry had a burger and I had a grilled portabello sandwich with homemade onion rings. The food was fine (my Yelp nemesis gave them a thirty paragraph review all to say that his experience was “fair, a three-star experience, the Thesaurus taught me 92 new words as I was writing this review.” Fuck, I hate that man so badly. Of course, he gave 5 stars to the place in Millvale I originally wanted to try, so now I’m glad we didn’t go there), but it was really the ambiance that made it special for me. (Until the bitch-baby in the booth across from us started acting like an asshole and of course no one cared because she was the granddaughter of one of the waitresses and every single person eating there was a townie and used to it.)

We were about to pay the check when I overheard the old broads in the booth behind us inquire about the desserts, and our waitress started bragging about the coconut cream pie. THAT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE PIES. But it’s really easy to get a shitty piece. They ended up ordering it and when I saw that the topping was whipped cream and not meringue (a thousands fist-shakes in the face of meringue), I had to order a piece ASAP.

And I shouldn’t have, because my stomach was already emitting a series of beeps and shocks to remind me that it was over capacity.

But, pie.

COCONUT CREAM pie.

It was the best damn coconut cream pie I have ever had, and I felt so strongly about this that I wrote a “Dear Grant’s Bar” love letter on the back on the check. (Henry was just happy that it was a positive ode for once, and not one of my infamous THIS PLACE SUCKS I HOPE YOU DIE death threats that I may have been known to scrawl from time to time before dashing out the door.)

However, those last forkfuls of food (what would my Yelp nemesis have used here? Vittles? Sustenance? Something Arabic?) really sent my digestive system into overdrive. I thought I would feel better once we walked to Mr. Small’s afterward, because walking off a meal typically helps me, but no. I spent the rest of the night in deep regret. And by regret I mean that I reached a point where I couldn’t even stand up straight. And of course it was a sold out show, and the balcony area was VIP-only that night.

We ended up all of the way in the front row, but over the side, so I could lean against the stage all night. And lean I did. At some points, I was also sagged and half-collapsed across it, too. The pain was real and just kept getting worse.

The opening band was CHON. I knew that Henry wouldn’t like them. I whispered, “FYI, they don’t sing” when we were waiting for them to come out. Henry HATES that. But I have been following them on Facebook for a few years and was excited to finally see them. I heard a girl nearby ask the guy next to her if they were the same style as Circa Survive. The guy and I both laughed at the same time, and he said, “Uh, no. Not at all.”

I’m sorry, Henry, but they were pretty sick to watch and I felt like they were channeling Chuck Mangione at times. I don’t listen to this style of music very often, but it served as a nice reminder that vocals aren’t always necessary to feel something, and I am definitely guilty of focusing too much on the singing sometimes.

Balance and Composure was next and I have to be honest here: seeing that they were on this tour made me even more excited about it because I have liked them for years yet have somehow never seen them live!

I have also never really paid attention to what they look like, so I was in for a shock when they took the stage because Jon, the singer, looked so much like my co-worker A-ron that I started to wig out a little bit. I kept taking pictures to send to all of my work friends, and the next day 98% of them were like, “Holy shit, are we sure it’s not really A-ron?!” except for TODD who said that it only kind of looked like him, and JEANNIE who frowned and said “not at all” and that it just looked like “an average guy with brown hair.”

“If everyone else said it didn’t look like him, you would say it did,” I said to Jeannie in a huff, which just made her laugh BECAUSE IT’S TRUE! She enjoys being the voice of dissent. But whatever, because when I saw A-ron that day, I said to him, “I’m surprised you’re here today after your big show last night” and then I showed him the picture and A-RON HIMSELF WAS LIKE OMG. But showing him turned out to be a mistake because it totally went to his head and then he kept making air-guitar motions and that was just weird.

Anyway, seeing Balance and Composure was worth the wait. I loved it, even though my stomach was like, “NOW can we go home??”

“Remember that coconut cream pie?” I dreamily said to Henry after CHON, punctuating it with a tiny burp.

“It wasn’t that great,” he mumbled.

Somewhere in between CHON and B&C, the super normal, inoffensive and unassuming girl who was next to me moved to a different spot and before I had the chance to move over into her vacated space, the grossest couple usurped it from me. The girl was about 5 feet tall and had SCENE HAIR. I haven’t seen SCENE HAIR since 2009. It was big and teased and so close to my face that I fixated on ripping out the bobby pins all night. And she stunk, you guys. Like Love’s Baby Soft and filth.

Now I’m picturing her trying to visit someone in jail with all of those bobby pins in her gross hair.

Her boyfriend was this big fucking Jersey Shore gorilla juice head who was wearing a TIGHT DRESS SHIRT.

You know how sometimes you just can’t help it, but you hate someone on sight? These were two people who did not have to give you any more of a reason to hate them other than just existing. AND THEY KEPT LOVINGLY GIVING EACH OTHER PECKS ON THE LIPS as if I wasn’t already having a hard time holding back my bile. I was having vivid hallucinations of yanking the rat’s nest off her head, I just couldn’t stand her. And during B&C, she spotted Anthony Green and squealed to her boyfriend and then jumped up and down and clapped her tiny little scene-fairy hands and I was like OH HOW FUCKING SWEET. YES I’M SURE YOU HAVE A SHOT WITH ANTHONY GREEN.

Then Gorilla Juice Head left her to stand ALL ALONE while he went and purchased practically one of everything from the merch booth for her, which she then kept in a pile on the side-stage area in front of her, and I swear to god she kept looking at me over her shoulder and then sliding her t-shirts closer to her, like yeah bitch, I’m going to steal your XS shirts. I just hated the way she kept looking at me, like I didn’t belong there, and I know it’s awful and I shouldn’t care, but it made me feel really uncomfortable (like I wasn’t already thanks to Grant’s Bar) and I started to feel like everyone was staring at me and that maybe I really didn’t belong there, and I haven’t had such low self-esteem issues like that at a show in a REALLY LONG TIME.

I would have just moved somewhere else, but I really needed to stay where I was because leaning against that stage was like a literal crutch for me, that’s how bad my stomach hurt. It was a sold-out show, and there was quite honestly no better place for me to go, other than home. And I wasn’t leaving without seeing Circa Survive.

Then this happened: 

WOW JUST WOW HENRY.  
Also, I felt disoriented because I swear every time we go to Mr. Small’s, something in there has changed. They’re constantly working on additions, which is great, but it’s made it seem very unfamiliar to me. I felt like a stranger in a place that used to be home.

And this is why this ended up being the worst Circa Survive show I’ve ever gone to. And it’s nothing against the band at all, because they were such amaze much wow as usual. I just could barely enjoy it.

They played all of my faves from Juturna. That album never gets old.

I felt like I was floating out of my body at one point. The pain, so real. Call an ambulance. And Henry kept getting pushed into me and every time I felt his belly pressing into my back I wanted to fucking murder him. I kept turning around to glare at him and he hissed, “What do you want me to do? Do you SEE all of the people in here?!” Ugh, I just didn’t want to be touched! It was terrible! Anthony’s antics were only making it slightly more tolerable, but I admittedly kept praying, “Please let this be the last song” 20 minutes into their set. It was hard enough standing there in physical pain, but the vibe from the crowd exacerbated my discomfort. Even Henry was like, “There were a lot of assholes there that night.” And Henry’s threshold for assholes is much greater than mine.

I was really looking forward to this show. I woke up with that excited thrill in my belly and spent all day at work bouncing in my seat, counting down the minutes. But, I guess they can’t all be wins, right? This show ranks at the bottom, with the 2005 Grog Shop show and last December’s Philly show with Terri tying for first place. That December hometown show was just so right on so many levels.

It took more than  two days for my stomach to make up with me. I don’t know what the hell Grant’s did to me, other than my stomach just being overly sensitive to greasy food these days. That’s one way to keep the weight off!

***

Today, while following Chooch around on a bike trail, I asked Henry some questions about his billionth Circa Survive experience. Here are his scintillating* answers:

*(I did not consult a Thesaurus on that, thx.)

What did you think of CHON?

*gives me a ‘don’t be stupid’ look*

Did you like Balance and Composure?

Ehhhhhhhh. Not really.

If you could use your beard to smuggle anything into a concert, what would it be?

I don’t know. I wouldn’t. Why do I need to smuggle anything in? I just want to get out. 

Do you like old or new Circa Survive songs best?

I don’t know the difference. *mumbles: I can’t believe I’m answering these*

What was the highlight for you? You’re sleeping!!

I’m not sleeping, I’m thinking! I don’t know. Two girls fighting at the end. 

Off the top of your head, name three bands that you dislike seeing even more than Circa Survive.

Whatever that first band was. Crone? Cron? 

Slaves. 

If Anthony Green started a line of barbeque sauces, how tempted would you be to try them?

That’s a weird question. I would try them, but only because it’s barbecue sauce.  

I would pour some on my Anthony Greenbeans and dip my Circa Surfries in it. How does it make you feel when Anthony spreads his mouth open with his hands?

Weird. 

Does it bring back prepubescent memories of sexual confusion?

*sleeping for real*

HENRY!!!

No. 

(I don’t think he understood the question.)

3 comments

I found this video of Marcy that I never posted. I miss her so much. </3