Well, we managed to squeeze Kennywood in right before the end of the summer season, but it was pretty much a bust. We chose this day a month in advance to ensure that we could get the day off work and that Janna, Blake and Haley could make it too, but the bad thing about planning so far out is that none of us know what kind of stew to cook up in ye ol’ cauldron to foresee the weather.

Spoiler alert: it stormed hardcore halfway through the day.

But! We were able to enjoy a few hours before that happened and this post here will do its best to illustrate that.

This was the first time in two years that Henry was actually joining Chooch and me at Kennywood, since we don’t go on Father’s Day anymore. He wasn’t happy that Chooch and I have made our traditions in his absence, such as: getting there as soon as the park opens (Henry never took us there that early!) and going the supposed “long way” which is how I used to get to Kennywood as a kid.

“Yeah, because you lived in another part of town then and it made sense to go that way!” Henry tried to reason by YELLING IN HIS DAD-VOICE which always makes me turn up the music.

I got my way of course and we left about three hours earlier than Henry would have liked and went the “long way” through West Mifflin, god forbid.

We actually got there a little bit too early though because the gates hadn’t even opened yet and there were quite a few lines already formed. Henry was being SO ANNOYING, jumping from one line to the next, trying to find the shortest one and it was really embarrassing. Like who is ever that high-strung about getting inside Kennywood?

There was a fuckarow with the lines anyway, because a bunch of different high school bands were there and the one Kennywood ticket girl was trying to corral them all into one line and they were such dunces about it and of course out of every line there, the only one it affected was OURS, good job, Henry. Couldn’t have just stuck with the first line.

By the time we made it up to the front, she was still bitching about it.

“I don’t understand what was so hard about that,” she scoffed at me and also no one in particular. “All I asked them to do was stand together. They’re in a band! That’s literally their JOB, to STAND TOGETHER IN A LINE!” and I just cracked up so bad. It was a good start to the day!

Until we made it through the ticket gates and Henry made us go LEFT instead of RIGHT when we ALWAYS GO RIGHT. Never in my life have I gone LEFT—that’s the way we always LEAVE the park! Little did we know that he was setting the tone for the day, because everything had an air of unfamiliarity to it after that.

Blame Henry, all dingdong day long.

Once we made it through the tunnel into the park, Chooch and I screamed, “Exterminator!” and took off in that direction while Henry just dawdled behind us like a fucking farmer from the 50s. Half of the Peters Twp band seemed to have the same idea and I was trying to get Henry to speed it up so we wouldn’t stuck with them in line but nooooo, Henry was all, “Don’t run! Take your time! Slow down!”

OMG why did we bring him!?

Of course, we ended up smack in the middle of the band kids and it looked like it was going to be terrible because some of them were teetering on line-jumping, but then one of the kids in front of us asked me, “Do you guys want to go ahead of us so you’re not stuck in the middle of the band kids?” and I was like, “Bro? You reading my mind, bro?”

He did this grand flourish with his arm and we happily jumped ahead of them and it was WONDERFUL, THANK YOU KIND BAND NERD.

There were some others in front of but they weren’t a part of the clique I guess, and were mostly keeping to themselves. This is how I learned some new hand-slapping games that Chooch said he would play with me but I had stage-fright because it seemed difficult and I didn’t want to mess up in front of people! There was intense counting involved. Counting is not my strong-suit.

Neither is typing.

Or talking.

Or breathing.

Sigh.

(Or sighing.)

We had to wait in line for about 15 minutes for the ride to open since it was still early. But once it opened and we all moved inside (the Exterminator is an indoor coaster), the band kids got super rowdy and immediately started screaming at ear-fucking levels and Henry’s grimace was devouring his whole point. Then they started high-fiving their friends as they passed each other in the queue and I was giddy because one of them high-fived me too but then I realized later that maybe he was just preparing his hand for his bandmates behind us that he was about to pass.

But I was so eager to get a piece of that hot high-fiving action! I love high-fiving. High-fives over hugs.

I jokingly said that I was going to make Henry ride with those annoying kids and he said, “I already have annoying kids to ride with.”

Oh snap, pops.

Finally it was time for us to get on the ride and I was beyond stoked, doing a bunch of “me-me-me-me-me”s to warm up my throat for the radical levels of shrieking I was about to unleash as soon as the ride started. I LOVE SCREAMING MY FACE OFF ON RIDES. It’s kind of my THANG. I will scream to the point where I’m laughing too hard to scream and then I’m peeing too hard to laugh.

Fuck yeah, Exterminator!

I had to laugh though because during that whole ride, I was the only one vocalizing any sort of feeling: literally, it was just my dumb big mouth filling up that entire warehouse, and each car of band kids that passed us were somberly quiet. After all that commotion they caused in line!

After that ride, Chooch and I made Henry watch us ride the Swingshot, which I successfully scared/horrified/enraged everyone on it with us with my blood-curdling Kerrigan-cries of “WHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!” and “OH MY GOD NO NO NO!!!! I FORGOT HOW AWFUL THIS IS!” before my finale of “rosary in tongues.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Chooch muttered when the ride stopped and I happily announced to everyone that we survived.

Then we rode the Phantom’s Revenge, where Chooch viciously mocked me for initially calling it the Steel Phantom WHICH IS WHAT IT USED TO BE CALLED WHEN I WAS CHOOCH’S AGE, OK?! The line was still really short so we ran for the back because back is best, fuck the rest.

Henry had to ride alone and he said he was fine with that because we’re annoying.

(Chooch just barged into my blogging life and said, “How the hell can you write about Kennywood? We did nothing!!” I mean it’s almost true, but still—there’s always shit to say about Kennywood!)

On the Phantom, Chooch and I had the very last seat and Papa H sat in front of us. We fluffed his hair and made our presence known the whole way up the first hill, and I think Henry was seriously reevaluating some life decisions, especially as the coaster made it over the crest and my murder-moans kicked in.

I just can’t hold it in, OK?! There was one year that the Handas were with us and Chris was like,  “You are my new official soundtrack of the Phantom.” It’s just what I do, guys. I have the vocal chords of a fucking 1970s Scream Queen. 

Then we made Henry go into Noah’s Ark since he hasn’t seen it since it was renovated. Chooch and I ran like escaped zoo animals to the entrance and then had to stand there and wait for our slow-lumbering counterpart, so thanks for that, Henry.

You meandering asshole.

Henry wasn’t impressed with renovated Noah’s Ark. WELL GUESS WHAT I’M NOT IMPRESSED WITH HENRY.

OMG Chris gave me a heads up last month about the new waffle stand that Kennywood has. Normally I’m not a big amusement park eater (I prefer eating National Parks, instead) but I was like, “Hold up wait a minute, Henry give that boy all your money because mama wants some wafels with all the dinges whatever that means.”

Henry was annoyed because Blake had texted him and said that they were nearly there and Henry needed to meet them at the entrance because he had their tickets, and now I was throwing waffles in his path like perilous banana peels and he was mad because waffles weren’t even spelled right, OMG!

He paid for our waffles and then barked, “You assholes can wait for them by yourselves, I’m going to get Blake.”

OMG FAVORITISM. HENRY LOVES BLAKE MORE THAN US.

Anyway, it was worth it. My waffle had Speculoos on it (first dinge is free!) and Chooch had strawberries on his. We were in a fucking waffle ZONE by the time Henry emerged through the entrance tunnel with Blake, Haley and Calvin.

Calvin’s first trip to Kennywood! He was so stoked! You just can’t tell from this photo.

Immediately, we dragged Blake and Haley on the Skyrocket. I was getting impatient because I thought they were right behind us but they were still giving Henry instructions on how to babysit a sleeping baby in a stroller. While this was happening, some fucking family of hunters crawled out of a West Virginia holler and got in line in front of us, so we were stuck in their local yokel presence the whole time and I wanted to KILL the camo-clad patriarch, who dumped a bottle of water over his nasty son’s head, and then the kid proceeded to shake his head like a dog after a bath, spraying his sweat-juice all over me and I was in TEARS.

IT WAS SO SICKENING.

UGH PEOPLE.

And then the whole time, Chooch was under the impression that he was going to be sitting with Blake, until we got all the way to the front of the line and Haley was all, “Oh no, Blake’s riding with me.”

Oh man, these two have the best rivalry. I love spectating because I have nothing to lose in it!

Chooch was all dejected but I said, “YAY WE’RE BACK TOGETHER AGAIN!” and Chooch was like, “When are we ever NOT together?” as he begrudgingly climbed into the last car with me.

And this was when I realized that we had never gone to an amusement park with Haley before, because she seemed positively startled when the coaster shot up the first hill and I started screaming.

I heard her say to Blake, “Oh, I can’t with her!” LOLOLOLOL.

You can’t but you willlllll!!!!

Meanwhile, Henry was talking off Calvin’s ears about the Service and probably fishing in ponds and how to change a tire. Sterile Henry Tales.

After one whole ride, we took a time out so Haley could feed Calvin. We were all just standing in there in front of her, in an awkward semi-circle, and in my head I was like, “Can’t we like, walk and do this, I don’t understand.” I get really nervous when there’s too much standing over in an amusement park. I have shit to do!

I finally got them to walk toward the Jack Rabbit, where Blake handed over Calvin to Henry, who stood in the shade and fed him his bottle while we kids got to be kids.

I had to zoom in and crop, so this picture is shitty but there’s Henry pretending to be a single dad.

[Side bar: Chooch has been calling Blake “Blook” for the last year now I guess because he has this weird quirk where he enjoys replacing vowel sounds, and I found myself slipping and saying “Blook” the other day and I felt like such a loser.]

Haley called the first seat when the line was cut off right in front of us. That’s always the best feeling because you know when the next coaster rolls up, you get dibs on whichever seat you want! But Chooch was all, “No we’re getting the front seat!” and Haley cried, “Us moms get first choice!” and I was like “Us moms? Who is she talking about….oh, lol, me.”

But as you can see, Chooch has literally no soft spot for mothers and viciously blocked us from the front seat. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted the front seat until that moment!

This was when I realized that Haley’s hatred of Chooch had distracted her from buckling our seatbelt and even though I’m smiling in this picture, I remember that in my head I was like, “HURRY UP BEFORE WE DIEEEEEE.”

We spent the whole ride flicking and pulling Blake and Chooch’s hair. THAT’LL SHOW THEM.

Haley and Blake had a list as long as Santa’s with all the food they needed to eat that day, so instead of continuing to ride, we took a time out to get food. Chooch and I weren’t hungry and wanted to keep riding, but the adults were like, “Calm down, kids, let the grown-ups eat.”

Ughhhh.

Chooch tried to get Blake to ditch the food foragers and come ride something with us, but Haley was like,, “No. Blake needs to get in line for Potato Patch while I’m in line for a corn dog” and Chooch looked so sad. I put my arm around him and said, “It’s OK, little buddy. You still have me! I’ll ride with you!” and a halo of blue birds flew around his head chirping, “FML FML FML.”

I wanted to ride the Thunderbolt while everyone else was standing in various food lines, but Chooch is like obsessed with Blake and needed to keep him in sight I guess, so we rode the Turtles instead.

It may have been the saddest ride on the Turtles of all time. Also, it was a really long ride! I was really into it at first but it went around about 10 times too much and I started to feel green.

The grown-ups had a table ready for us by the time we were sufficiently Turtled, and this would end up being one of the last dry moments of the day.

Le sigh.

I’ll end here with this picture of Henry leering perversely at his corn-breaded wiener. Part 2 coming soon!

On the last Saturday of August, I met Jeannie, Wendy, and Summer at Pamela’s for breakfast.

This is how I learned through casual conversation that Barb is taking a creative writing class! I was really excited when Jeannie mentioned this but then I blurted out, “She better not plagiarize me!”

Then Jeannie found out that I’m no longer on Facebook and she was shocked, but also happy. “Now we can finally be friends!” she said, since we’re basically the only two people in the world who aren’t on Facebook now.

I started gushing about how great it’s been being off it, no politcal drama, no constant disappointment when you realize how many racists you went to high school with, no more mindless scrolling through the same posts over and over in your feed instead of living life. Yes, I’m still on other social media, but those platforms have never threatened to consume me the way Facebook did.

“It’s really refreshing when you run into a friend and when you ask them what they’ve been up to, you REALLG MEAN IT because you no longer know every single thought and movement of your friends,” I explained. “It’s like, going back to basics.”

Wendy nodded and said, “Yeah I hate it when you’re talking to someone and they’re like ‘didn’t you see my post?'”

I started laughing and admitted that I used to be like that with my blog. “‘Didn’t you read my blog???’ I’d say whenever someone  didn’t know what was going on with me.”

“I only read Barb’s blog,” Jeannie said dryly and I almost spit up my Lyonnaise potatoes all over Summer. I WISH BARB HAD A BLOG! (Hint hint Barb!)

You’ll never believe this but the rest of Saturday was spent at home! Henry finally started getting some work done in the kitchen, I went for a million walks, we went and got coffee at one point at Cafe Noir and Henry dropped a chocolate chip cookie on the sidewalk and THEN ATE IT.

OFF THE GROUND IN BROOKLINE. Lord knows how many junkies puked on that square inch of sidewalk. Good one, Henry.

Oh and Chooch also got his hair cut – all of these were accomplished by walking to Brookline Boulevard and when I complain about Brookline, I always have to check myself and remember how motherfucking convenient everything is.

(Just wish they would get a Korean restaurant.)

Off topic: I fucking hate that Sam Hunt “Body Like A Backroad” song so much. Every time I hear it on the radio, I am instantly filled with rage and lunge to turn it off (we had to listen to the radio A LOT when we were trying to win those Shawn Mendes tickets ugh).  I was ranting about it to Henry and said that if anyone told me I had a body like a backroad, I would be so offended because what–my body is dusty and bumpy?!

“I think he’s trying to say that he knows her body like he knows a backroad, like the back of his hand. Like, the curves in a backroad,” Henry calmly explained.

DONT BE A COUNTRY MUSIC APOLOGIST, YEE-HAW HANK.

Henry: FML

Mannequin Henry: Same. 

Saturday night, we watched an episode of Goblin and then I probably went for another walk. I’m training to be the next Crazy Lady of Brookline. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I probably don’t need much training.

*******

Sunday morning, I was still lounging around in bed when the DJ on the Korean radio station I listen to started saying words that sounded familiar and then I realized that the other day she asked people to write in and tell her how Kpop changed their lives so I did (natch) and SHE WAS READING MY STORY! I was actually in the middle of talking about how tall Lee Gwang Soo is because of course I was talking g about a Korean TV personality while listening to Korean radio, when I interrupted myself to blurt out, “HEY THATS ME!!” Henry murmured, “Oh my god,” Bob’s Burger-style

It was a really special moment for me!

Then we dropped Chooch off at his piano lesson and hit up the Asian markets. Right away, I saw these curious things on branches in the produce section and immediately wanted to buy them. The thing you should know about Asian markets is that sometimes you will see things labeled in English, but mostly the produce is hand-written in Chinese. I can read Korean, but Chinese characters are waaaaay out of my wheelhouse. These particularly fruit-balls were not marked in English, but while we were gawking at them, a Chinese man reached in front of us and grabbed two red bags of the things. Henry asked him what they were and the man just laughed and said, “I don’t know but they taste good!”

That was a ringing enough of an endorsement for me so I grabbed a sack and then Henry found our favorite grocer who informed us that they’re yellow dates. I googled and it said you could eat them just as they are, even though they hadn’t yet turned soft, brown and wrinkly. (There’s an old man ball joke in there somewhere but I’m all out of humor after doing kpop workouts for like two hours tonight.)

We sat in the car and dared each other to take the first bite. Eventually we both went for it and holy shit, new favorite fruit. It had the crunch of an apple, a slight astringent bite of a persimmon, and a wonderfully sweet aftertaste of date.

They are so delicious and addicting!

The moral is: don’t be afraid to ask someone what things are when you’re at some type of ethnic grocery store. This is also how Henry and I discovered that baby taro is the BOMB.

I was just at one of the other Asian markets last week on my lunch break (there’s one that’s close enough for me to walk to, but my favorite one is several blocks farther away and I’d never make it back in time, so sad). I wanted to grab some more candy for the pumpkin at work, but there were some white people there acting like typical American assholes, loudly making fun of the candy and I just didn’t want to be associated with them. Just imagine all the delicious things they’re missing out on.

After Chooch’s lesson, we went to Spirit for their Sunday brunch. I’m not a fan of brunch or buffets (I know, what kind of anomaly am I), but we settled on Spirit because their veg options seemed tight. I was worried that the vibe was going to be off-putting since this place is also a music venue (of the hipster variety) but the atmosphere was dark and on point—exactly the kind of ambiance I like in a restaurant.

Chooch immediately went to check out the bathroom and reported that it was “nothing special, kind of like the ones at the Altar Bar.” Because my 11-year-old knows his music venue bathrooms, guys.

The buffet was pretty lit (Chooch hates it when I say that because I’m apparently not supposed to know that word since I’m A Mom) and there were more meatless options than anything else, really. Three different types of salads, hummus, yogurt, rice pudding, lemon beignets (God yes),- pizza bar, quiche, French toast sticks….just all kinds of wondrous brunch fare.

I think it was the first time I actually ate my money’s worth too. It may not seem like it on the outside, but my stomach is way too small for buffets.

I didn’t eat anything the rest of the day. :/

We had THE WORST service though, considering all our server had to do was bring us our drinks and check. It was ludicrous how neglected we were. Other people were annoyed too, and some broad at a table nearby crumbled up her check and walked out because all she cared about was the sausage and potatoes and it was never refilled or something, I don’t care about other people’s problems.

The bottomline for me is that I enjoyed the ambiance and food enough to give it another try but we better have a different server and my fucking coffee better actually be bottomless like the menu says, considering this is the most important part of a meal for me and I didn’t get my cup until I WAS ALMOST DONE EATING ARE YOU KIDDING YOU HAVE ONE JOB LADY!

(Side note: Chooch thought he was so cool because he ordered a Snakebite, which was some kind of ginger-spiked OJ. We didn’t think he would like it, but he drank the whole damn thing.)

Forever making him stand in front of walls.

After lunch, we went to visit Patty, who gets to come home on September 24th! This is huge news and I’m so stoked for her! She’s been at this particular long-term care facility for nearly a year now and she has made so much progress. (Unfriendly reminder for cancer to go get fucked.)

In the activity room, Patty strong-armed Chooch to play something on the piano for all the elderly women sitting around the table. He finally sat down and plucked out this little ditty from memory like it ain’t no thang:

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I sent this to his piano teacher yesterday and she was so thrilled! I love how great the two of them work together. When I went to get him on Sunday, I caught the tail end of her teaching him the drum parts to Yellowcard’s “Ocean Avenue.” She is so fucking cool!

After Chooch entertained the ladies, we went to an empty rec room and played Joking Hazard while Henry sat down and IMMEDIATELY fell asleep. At one point, some man in his nineties came in and rifled through the newspapers on the table near Henry and I started cracking up because that dude looked like he had way more energy than our slumbering hero. I told Henry later that while he was sleeping, one of the orderlies came in and asked us if we wanted her to take him back to his room, and he believed me.

“They could have taken me to a room,” Henry said with a shrug, and then got this far-away look in his eyes as though he was fantasizing about having a secret room in a nursing home where he could sleep as much as he wanted without Chooch and me waking him up because we need fed or burped or whatever.

It took forever to get home because nearly every way out of the city is under construction. Henry kept shouting, “FUCK YOU!!” every time he’d come upon another road closure. He’s usually on his detour game, but not on this day. I was actually starting to feel anxious, like we were in a bad horror movie. Welcome to Pittsburgh, where there’s NO WAY OUT.

We did eventually make it home and I went for a…WAIT FOR IT…walk. This time, I walked around a part of Brookline I don’t generally visit, and on one of the streets, I heard these kids yelling about a hug, but you know me, I ignore the frequency of a child’s voice.

But the yelling persisted, and that’s when I realized that these two little kids in a yard across the street were asking me for a hug.

LOL, PASS.

But their screams were getting louder until finally I stopped and gave them an air-hug from across the street, because that’s the kind of dick I am. They weren’t buying it and demanded that I give them a real hug.

Look. It’s 2017. Even if I enjoyed the act of hugging another human, it gets tricky when that other person is not a kid, but a KID STRANGER. Who knows what someone would think if they happened to look out their window. Sad, right, that we even have to think that way in this day and age.

I decided that we could at least high-five, so I crossed the street and walked over to them. Their yard was bordered by a retaining wall, so I was pretty much eye level with this little brother and sister pair of hug-obsessers, who appeared to be maybe 3 and 4. But after high-fiving, they GANG-HUGGED ME. I had no chance! The little boy was actually hanging off me and I was like, “WHOA HAHA OK DOWN!” and had to actually pry these children off me torso.

IT WAS HORRIFYING.

UGH KIDS!!

The girl happily asked me where I live and I stupidly told her and then stopped myself because WAS I BEING KID-NAPPED?! I had no idea what was going on, but they were so friendly and I think they wanted to keep me and I wasn’t down with that. I told them I had to go home and, in my own awkward way, tried to coax them further back into their yard. “Uh, don’t come out into the street. Try to, like, you know, stay safe,” I mumbled as I turned to walk away. And then the boy started crying, like legit wailing, “No don’t go! Come back!” and my anxiety went through the roof. The voice in my head was all, “FUCKING RUN. RUN RUN FUCKITYFUCKFUCK RUN!” Was that his signal for the rest of the neighborhood kids to fall from boughs and emerge from manholes, pulling their ropes taut and cocking their BB guns?!

Eventually, he stopped screaming and when I risked one last furtive glance over my shoulder they had gone back to calmly playing whatever they were playing before they spotted the naïve-looking girl with the Pusheen wallet hanging off her shorts.

And then my hand instinctively reached for said wallet because WAS THIS A PICKPOCKETING PLOY FROM BROOKLINE GYPSIES? But no, everything was intact.

Super creepy though.

Now I’m wondering IF THEY WERE ACTUALLY GHOSTS???

And then the weekend ended with Game of Thrones, while Chooch diligently and slightly obsessively organized his backpack for the first day of sixth grade. I know summer isn’t technically over yet as far as the calendar is concerned, but it might as well be. :(

I know, I know: parents do this every year. “Wah, my kid is growing up” blah blah blah. It’s still a little bit of a shock to the system though when you send your kid off to the first day of school and then think to yourself, “Fuck, I’m a mom of a MIDDLESCHOOLER” and then you feel all self-pitying and pathetic and cry a lot but take consolation in the fact that now that he wears a boys’ large, you can actually fit into some of his clothes and that denim vest is LOOKING MIGHTY FINE.  

I mean, this isn’t about me, this about my BEAUTIFUL GROWING BOY. 

I can’t wait to fill this vest with pins—oooh I can make a patch that says MOMMY & CHOOCH 4L!

Um, anyway. Here’s hoping that sixth grade goes as smoothly as fifth grade did. (Of course he got the teacher that requires about $150 in supplies when all the other ones just have “pencils and paper” listed. 

Ugh middle school. 

I have been trying to get this dumb bulletpointed photo dump written for two weeks now but….distractions. For instance, right now I’m typing this on my phone while watching videos from KCON LA and I keep pausing to tell Henry things like “I like this song. Do you like them? This stage was better at KCON NY.

That guy is from Chicago. He’s from Hong Kong.” And Henry is a better person now for knowing these things.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that there will be typos. And I know I’m forgetting shit that seemed so blog-worthy at the moment BUT I GUESS MY LIFE IS REALLY JUST BLAND AFTER ALL.

• Henry bought me that difficult oatmeal again after I told him not to because it requires too much effort to make. I thought I had it down pat though, the whole “heat for 30 seconds, stir, repeat until you quit caring” technique, but then CHERYL came into the kitchen while I had my face pressed against the microwave and asked what I was doing. WHAT DOES IT LOOKS LIKE CHERYL IM BABYSITTING MY LUNCH.
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  So she decided this was a great time to strike up a conversation and I swear I only took my eyes off the kid for a second on the playground in the microwave when it EXPLODED and I cried, “UGH CHERYL LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!” So then I had to clean everything up which is my least favorite thing to do aside from probably getting murdered or whatever, and she was still like “Let’s talk about things!” As I was adding the mix-ins to my oatmeal (honey, cinnamon, etc) she was like, “Oh wow I never would have thought to add those things” and I felt like I was filming a COOKING SHOW, isn’t that horrifying? Me, a cooking show. Ugh. This oatmeal is not worth it.

• I referred to one of the neighbors as a “real CU next Tuesday,” which Chooch overheard and asked what it meant. Nothing, I said, which only made him persist, eventually to the point of begging. I couldn’t believe he didn’t already know because kid knows all the bad stuff. Eventually it occurred to him that this is what the Internet is for, emergencies like this, and I could tell by his ferocious giggle fit that he had surfed the Urban Dictionary wave. “Good one, Erin” henry sighed about Chooch said that’s what he’s going to call Markie’s mom from now on.

• We’re in the process of redecorating some areas of the house. I suggested adding blood spatter to the bathroom walls and henry said, “OK. Come here.” Snap. So far we have accomplished the wall behind the TV, and by now you know I mean that I told Henry what I want and he did it.
  https://instagram.com/p/BYPFUi1A1Ld/

• Chris hung out with us a few Fridays ago! She brought her yarn over and worked on a project while I made her watch Weekly Idol and taught her about aegyo and Chooch kept trying to pull her away from me because that’s what he does—steals friends. At one point, he grabbed my laptop and read things in Spanish using Google translate for Chris to translate because she is fluent in Spanish and that’s what she does for work–Spanish subtitling. He started to run out of sentences to type until I giddily whispered one in his ear. He started giggling too, and read the Spanish version of it for Chris, who sighed, “See you next Tuesday.” LOLOLOLOL, Chooch and I giggled like little school girls. After Chris left that night, I said to Henry, “She’s like REALLY good at Spanish.” “Well I should hope so,” he said. “It’s her JOB.”

• Two Sundays ago (god I’m a blogging slacker) I had a real big hunger tantrum after Chooch’s piano lesson and I’ll save you the gnarly details and skip to the end where we settled on some veg-friendly sandwich shop in Oakland. As soon as we sat down, Henry took off for the bathroom and we were like WOW OK RUDE. Of course as soon as he went in there, some yuppie lady and her little girl needed to use it at that precise moment and acted all alarmed and confused as they tried in vain to twist the doorknob. “Figures, henry went in there to poop and now there’s a line,” I said, which made Chooch have a near medical emergency called EXTREME LAUGHING SEIZURES. So then I started laughing and Chooch fed off my laughter and was crying with a red face and it was SO LOUD that I wondered if the people working there were going to think I was burning him with a lighter under the table. Thank god, aside from the yuppie mom and her little brat that had to pee, we were the the only patrons there at that time. Because shit was escalating fast (in the barroom too, I bet.) I texted Henry “Good job, you caused a line to form” and I thought Chooch actually vomit from mirth-tremors. Since this was not only about Henry but also loo-related, I texted my friend Alyson about his line-formation drama at the college sandwich shop and that made us the only three people in the world who found the humor in this.

hooch made me take a picture of the bathroom door

• Fire on my street! This was last week, several houses down. Actually, it was Chooch’s enemy Jackie’s house and the crazy thing was the day before I ran into her and when I asked how she was doing, she sighed, “We’re all still here.” I moved to this street in 1999 and she was already living here so we’re like the only OGs left at this point. Then a day later, there was an electrical fire in her house. Luckily, no one was hurt. It happened early enough in the evening that her husband was able to catch it, but the firemen were still there for like three hours. Maybe just two. Time, like money, is not something I have a good grasp of.

• Glenn was choking the other day at work, like for a good while.
  buy tadora online buy tadora generic

  At first I was just ignoring it, but then I suddenly got a surge of giddiness. I was trying to swallow them back to the point of tears, and then I gave up. Since it was obvious at this point that I was laughing at him, I turned around and, through gurgling giggles, said, “I’m so sorry Glenn, but I literally cannot stop laughing!”. When he finally got his choking under control, he wheezed, “It’s OK, I’m fine” and then I started cracking up all over again. Am I a sociopath?

  • Usually when I start laughing at everything, that means very soon I will be crying at everything so CANT WAIT. #BipolarAmusementPark
• I had dinner with Barb a few weeks ago, but it was hijacked by Chooch so I just sat there and sulked while he was all charming and entertaining. Ugh why can’t I be like Chooch?!

• We still have a POS POTUS.
• Totally falling in love with WANNA ONE. (KCON LA videos are still on ok?!)
  Target self-checkout helping Henry keep an eye on us.

• So, I didn’t care about the eclipse. Sue me. However, it was pretty fun at work during the height of it all when the obligatory Bonnie Tyler jam was played causing our director to come out of her office and say, “Seriously if I hear his song one more time today…” But then A-Ron let some of us use his special glasses and it was actually pretty cool. But enough people posted pictures on Instagram for me to have easily been OK with not partaking. And I guess none of Chooch’s YouTubers told him about it because he had no idea it was happening until I left for work and told him, as an afterthought, not to look ip during the eclipse. I mean, if ever there was a good time to start acting like a mom, right? (I ALSO MADE HIM BREAKFAST THAT DAY TOO, SO.) HNC came over with his welders glasses for Chooch to use and when I asked him after work if he enjoyed it, he slowly said, “I….guess…?”

• Rainier cherries and lychees, like you do. People think I only shop at the Asian markets because I’m all about Korea but the truth is that we’ve been hitting up the Asian markets for years because my fruit palate is so fucking refines, bitches. Save your bananas and grapes for your own self. (lol I’m not even actually this much of an asshole IRL I promise.)

• The zealots have been out in full force downtown lately. I got this awesome Satan pamphlet from the Witnesses (after everyone in front of me was like NOPE) and then a few days later, I was approached for the first time ever by someone from the CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY! They gave me a brochure with a personality test inside and I’m going to put myself in Glenn’s shoes and fill it out. I already sent back the “SEND ME MORE INFO” portion of the Satan thing with Glenn’s address on it. Maybe I just helped him choose a path. You don’t know.

• We randomly visited the Cathedral of Learning a few Sundays ago, right on the heels of Chooch’s and my laugh-attack over Henry causing a line-up outside of the bathroom at Unique Eats. Needless to say, we were super sensitive to everything and kept cracking up vociferously, causing Henry to go to the restroom and THEN DITCH US. He said he knew where we were the whole time because hello—-Cathedral. Our cackles echoed all over. Everyone knew where we were. I was excited to go to the Korean room though! The last time I was there, I hadn’t imprinted on Korea yet.

(After we discovered Henry, from three floors up.)

• Yesterday, Chooch came in the house and said abruptly, “I was just thinking about Drew dying and now I want to spend all my time with her!” as big fat tears squirted out of his eyeballs. Then he collapsed on the chaise with her and straight sobbed. It was heartbreaking.

And on that note! Go hug an animal or something. Goodnight.

With Erin & Chooch

I volunteered to work the last three Friday late shifts for August because we get to work those from home and I thought to myself, “Golly wouldn’t it be swell to spend some of these last summer Fridays with my little baby boy?!” 

Lol. 

On every one of these Fridays, we went out for breakfast. And that is what this blog post is about, ok?

On the first Friday, we walked to Orbis Cafe in Mt. Lebanon. It took about 25-30 minutes to get there but it was a beautiful, mild summer morning so we didn’t show up sopping with sweat or anything. Don’t worry. 

Hilariously, we had just been joking around at work about someone who listed “third wave coffee” as an interest on their resume, and now here I was, at a cafe that totally promoted that movement, what with their multiple, confusing brewing options. 

I panicked and just got a pour over,  because I was only familiar with that and French press. Then I had to choose a coffee blend and it was a real high-anxiety experience, almost as bad as waiting for public transportation or being randomly called on in class. 

I’m easily rattled ok?!

I’m conflicted with this place. The two women working that day were pleasant but the service was…..

Just not that wonderful. For starters, I stood at the counter the entire time the one barista was making my pourover because I noticed other people standing around too. I had Chooch grab us a table while I continued waiting. 

I stood there for at least 8 minutes before one of the girls walked out from behind the counter and brought Chooch’s breakfast to him (fruit and nut yogurt, and a bagel which he could have had at home but whatever). 

Apparently the people standing around were waiting for their to-go drinks. I didn’t have to be standing there at all, yet neither of the two baristas said anything to me, or even asked me if I needed something! THEY JUST LET ME STAND THERE LIKE A LOST SHEEP. 

So I went and sat down with Chooch, feeling stupid and completely spotlighted. It was about 15 minutes later when I had finished my coffee and he had finished his breakfast, when I started to hard-core wonder where the hell my breakfast wrap was. I kept looking over shoulder at the counter and couldn’t tell if it was still being heated up or what. 

“I mean, I DID order it right?” And of course Chooch made me doubt that my order had gone any further than just being a thought in my head. But then I started doing the math and confirmed that I definitely paid for it. 

I was about to go up to the counter and just ask for a refund (or possibly a CHEMEX) when one of the baristas started asking, “Breakfast wrap?” to every table she walked past. Then she met my eyes and suddenly realized that it was mine and she had FORGOTTEN ABOUT IT. 

“I’m so sorry!” she said, setting down the lukewarm wrap in front of me. It had obviously been abandoned on the counter for quite some time. 

I’d give them a free pass if the joint had been exceptionally busy but it was boasting a basic hustle and bustle that morning. 

They’re lucky I’m a sell-out and all up on the Third Wave Coffee train now because their pourover was EXCEPTIONAL and just delicious enough to not only drink black, but to forgive them for their wrap-dementia. 

I’ll be back for coffee but not breakfast. (Although their display of baked goods looked pretty good.)

For our second Friday, we were treated with a very heavy downpour. We tried to wait it out as long as possible but we were both swinging from hunger’s lunacy fringe so we left the house with our one shared umbrella and dealt with it. 

Everything was mostly fine. We walked past our old neighbor who didn’t go very far—just down the street—and a split second after cutely saying hello (she loves us and thinks we look like twins so take that everyone who always says that they see no resemblance) we were puddle-splashed in the most dramatic fashion by some FUCKSTICK in a truck.

Even if we had been double-umbrella’d, there was no protection from that one. 

So that was swell!

We reluctantly opted for Dorstop this time. I say reluctantly for two reasons:

• Dorstop is majorly over-rated and their figurative head is entirely too enlarged from That One Time they were featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives like 10 years ago. 
• We’ve been anxiously awaiting this one place called Parker’s to open. They used to be across the sreeet from Dorstop in Dormont, but they moved to a great spot on Brookline Blvd — basically still the same walking disgance for us but we spend more time walking on Brookline Blvd than we do on the street where they used to be located, plus this new spot is bigger! We always chide Henry because he’s never been to Parker’s so we treat it like it’s a club he doesn’t belong to. “You act like you guys were regulars there but you only ate there like theee times.” Twice, and both times were memorable because PARKER HIMSELF talked to us and he is AWESOME and no I DONT HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM OK I DO.

I mean. 

So we begrudgingly went to Dorstop and I was just really happy to get away from the rain. Of course it was packed, even on a weekday morning, because Guy Fieri ate there once, y’all. 

:|

Of course everyone turned to look at us when the bells on the door jingled and I hadn’t even told them Large Marge sent us yet. 

 Right off the bat, a synthetic ginger broad asked us how many in a disgruntled grumble, coupled with a very surly, “Follow me.”

I was ready to walk the fuck out because what a rude twat. But…rain. 

Luckily we had a nice young waitress who gave me coffee immediately and our food was fine. (I had potato pancakes; Chooch had an omelette which wasn’t nearly as good as the one he had at The Twist, the one that had him throwing down glitter on “Honk If You Love Artichokes” signs.)

It was fine but I would never recommend it nor would I take any out-of-town guests there. 

Which brings us to today…

Our last Friday Breakfast Club meeting for the foreseeable future. :(

Me: I’m sad that this is our last day of Friday Breakfast Club.

Chooch: We literally only went to breakfast three times, though—how is that a club?!

Ugh shut up Chooch. 

This time we went to Tom’s. We could have went there last week instead of Dorstop but we had eaten at Tom’s for dinner (WITH BARB, UGH BARB) two nights before. 

I originally suggested Cain’s Saloon which is open early on Fridays for breakfast (allegedly) but Chooch was all, “Um I feel like that’s a place that daddy would want to go to with us so we should just go to Tom’s” and I’m not a fool I know it’s because Cain’s is a longer walk and he was itchin’ to get home and play with his dumb friends. 

NO ONE IS BETTER THAN MOMMY, CHOOCH—NO ONE!!! I WONT LET THEM TAKE U AWAY FROM ME!

But yeah! Anyway! You know! Can’t go wrong with Tom’s! I had the Greek eggs Benedict and Chooch had eggs and home fries I guess. All I remember is him complaining about the nerve of restaurants that serve jelly packets with their toast, assuming that everyone uses jelly. 

Turns out Chooch is not a fan of jelly on his toast. 

“It just belongs on PB&J and nothing else,” he shared with me and I BET HIS DUMB FRIENDS ALREADY KNOW ABOUT THAT DONT THEY? I AM SO OUT OF TOUCH. 

I’m not having feelings about him starting sixth grade on Monday. Pfft. That’s you,  not me. 

UGH JUST GO AWAY. 

My mom dropped off a belated birthday gift for me last night, but she was so sure I wouldn’t like it that she had Chooch come out to get it so that she wouldn’t have to see my disappointment when I opened it.

First of all, I wasn’t expecting anything so the very idea that she thought to get me a present meant enough in itself!

Second of all, SHE IS FREAKING NUTS because when I saw what it was, I literally screamed like a little girl and waved it around for Henry and Chooch to see:

A little G-Dragon doll! I love him so much!

Of course I brought him to work today to show people. Lauren got all teary-eyed because she thought it was a such a sweet gesture from my mom, and Amber thought it was super adorable too. Then when I sat down at my desk, Glenn mumbled, “What? I don’t get to see your doll, too? Because you think I’ll make fun of it?”

“UM YEAH, THAT’S EXACTLY WHY, GLENN!” I spat. But then I whirled around in my seat and said, “OK FINE YOU SEE IT!”

And even Glenn, naysayer of all things Hallyu, said, “That’s actually pretty cool.”

SEE?!

The best part about this is that he’s modeled after my FAVORITE G-DRAGON LOOK! He wore this outfit in the Fxxk It video, and also in one of my favorite live performances, which I will now post as proof and also because I want to watch it again.

It just shows that my mom cares enough to know what I’m currently into and it means the world to me. It’s the little things in life. And sometimes these small joys really add up, you know? I love thoughtful gifts like this!

Henry had to work on Saturday so Chooch and I were on our own.

Well I guess we’re gonna have to take control

(On our own)

If it’s up to us, we’ve got to take it home

(On our own)

We went for a walk first thing in the morning, trampling down Brookline alleys and stumbling upon ANARCHIST GRAFITTI! We decided to try and figure out who the culprit was and then suddenly, Chooch spotted an aerosol can discarded over to the side of the alley. “Maybe that’s the cam of spraypaint!!! NO DONT TOUCH IT, YOULL GET YOUR FINGERPRINTS ON IT!” I screamed. 

“It’s just hairspray,” Chooch said, failing miserably at pronouncing Tresemme (ooh la la).

And then we moved on to other things, like judging peoples’ backyards. (Like ours is so great. Oh wait we don’t have one lol.)

We walked past CVS and as the automatic doors opened, Chooch yelled, “Do you love Bambi!?” Because that’s what he calls his dumb cat Drew these days. 

“No, and stop yelling at me!” I cried. 

“I wasn’t asking you, I was asking the people in CVS.”

Whhhyyy did this make me crack up so bad? I think we’ve been spending too much time together. 

Wait! I’m getting my walks mixed up! I think this was from our second walk, around noon, when we went to Cafe Noir for our traditional Saturday beverage. (I usually get a latte, Chooch gets hot chocolate. Look at how much I tell you!)

This is me, half-woke and makeupless, and Chooch, struggling to see without a YouTube video in front of his face. We were walking down the sidewalk on our block and one of the neighbors shouted, “Here come the Bobsy Twins!” So freaking accurate. 

Idiot Henry came home around 2 so we went to a late lunch at Nak Won Garden. Pittsburgh doesn’t have many Korean restaurants and this is the only one I’ve been to so far that has ttkeokbokki on the menu! It’s specifically a Korean streetfood but most of the restaurants in Toronto’s Koreatown had it on their menu. If I had a Korean restaurant it would for sure be on the menu, with a glorious photo of it on the front, skewers and all. 

This particular place has it listed as an appetizer and it was perfect to share between us. I derived great pleasure from watching Henry struggle with metal chopsticks. He can barely use cheap wooden ones, let alone the Korean variety! He was getting so irritated because I kept swiping things from him and then trying to feed him. 

Oh Henry. So put-upon. Ho ho ho. 

I don’t know what he ordered but I got soondubu jjigae with mushrooms and basically wanted to place my whole fucking face in that bubbling cauldron of Korean stew. 

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And don’t get me started on the banchan. I ate all the kimchi before Henry even realized it was there. 

Eating lunch was exhausting so Henry fell asleep immediately upon returning home and I took lovely, sentimental pictures of us together. 

Then I hoped he wasn’t actually dead,  because these pictures would take on a completely new meaning. 

I made this birthday card for my noncomposcards shop and Chooch was like, “Get away from me with that. You are so cringey.” 

THAT’S JUST WHO I AM. 

Chooch’s queen on her throne. After I posted this on Instagram, several wheelchair accounts started falling me. I’m moving up in the world! This was almost as good as the time I was contacted by this poet who wanted to use one of my photos of a unicorn masked-Chooch sitting in that very wheelchair, as the cover of his next chapbook. I said sure as long as he credited me and he promised to send me a copy of it in the mail. He did, eventually, and boy was it interesting. It was basically a collection of sex poems written by a paraplegic. Chooch’s first cover!

Saturday night ended with me watching the livestream of KCON LA and throwing a fit when the feed froze THE EXACT MOMENT Vixx started to perform “Shangri-la.” OF COURSE IT WOULD. That was the main thing I was looking forward to!

By the time I woke up Sunday morning, it was already on YouTube, so….

IN CONCLUSION, MY SATURDAY WAS PRETTY FULFILLING. 

Nearly a month has passed since I saw my oppa, my king, my ultimate bias G-Dragon. It took everything I had in me to write part 1 of this Act III: Motte series of blog posts because as trivial as it may seem (“It’s just a concert, tho” — amirite?), the feelings I experienced that night were outrageous. Over and over, all night long, all I kept thinking was how incredibly grateful I was to be there, and never did I imagine I would be so close!

The whole point of this world tour is for G-Dragon to try to separate his stage alias and his actual identity—Kwon Jiyong. The concert was divided into three acts: the first, being his early solo work; the next act focused on his second solo album; and the third act brought us to the present, current version of himself: his real self. Kwon Jiyong.

M.O.T.T.E. stands for “moment of truth, the end.” Does he mean this is the end of G-Dragon? I’m not exactly sure, but the night was emotionally-charged and full of candid moments.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BXRmfDrBaOc/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

After a long, dramatic introduction, G-Dragon appeared on an elevated stage and dove right into “Heartbreaker,” which was just loud enough to be heard over the fanatical screaming in the arena. Yes, we had just seen him during his soundcheck, but brother, nothing could have prepared me for this. His presence is fucking gigantic. How does he project so much, so far? BECAUSE HE IS A MAGICAL BEING SENT FROM ABOVE.

He did the running-dance thing that he does in the video and I legit swooned up all of my pent-up pre-teen notions of love and romance. Right there in the Air Canada Centre, years of diary pages and Scrunchies were practically wafting out of my mouth.

G-Dragon makes me feel like A GIRL AGAIN.

I don’t think my heart stopped fluttering once all night, even when I was also crying.

Because you know I also cried.

A lot.

Act 1 had these old school songs:

• Heartbreaker
• Breathe
• A Boy
• But I Love U
• Obsession

https://www.instagram.com/p/BXRm3VrBYvF/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

When I hear these old songs and watch the old videos, I feel so sad that I didn’t get to be around for that era of G-Dragon, the Heartbreaker-years, the bleached blond-phase. But watching him perform all of those old songs so close in front of me that night….wow. Words can’t describe.

I had all of these images going through my head during the months and weeks leading up to this concert, how I was going to react, how much I would scream, if Henry would have to pick me up from the ground…but the reality of it, what REALLY happened, was that I was stunned, straight-up speechless, immobile. I stood with my hands clutched beneath my chin and vacillated between crying and smiling. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him! HE IS THE CROWN JEWEL OF KOREA.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BYE_4Dvh8zP/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

The second act revolved around his next solo incarnation, which I would describe as being a little harsher, tougher, with more swagger.

• MichiGO
• One of a Kind
• R.O.D.
• That XX
• Black (English version, featuring Skye Ferriera. I really wish he would have stuck with the Korean version with Jenny from Blackpink, though)
• Missing You
• Who You?
• I Love It

The stage during Black was so cool and featuring some of his girl dancers suspended on swings behind clear plastic curtains. I really liked Act 2 a lot, and GD seemed to be more comfortable performing these songs, too.

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Before the show started, there was some mildly annoying white girl in front of us, making sure everyone knew she was the biggest BIGBANG fan there, etc. You know the type. But the one thing she said that I adamantly agreed with was, “If I show someone the Crayon video and they don’t like it, I wonder what exactly is wrong with them.”

YES THIS. That video is SO CLEVER, the song IS SO CLEVER, G-Dragon is SO CLEVER. Honestly, this guy is a creative powerhouse. Maybe that’s what most Westerners don’t realize: G-Dragon writes and produces his own stuff. He’s not just handed a song with a bow on it.

During Act 2, a video was played featuring GD’s friends and family responding to the question: Who Is G-Dragon/Kwon Jiyong to you? Admittedly, I had already seen this on one of the fan accounts I follow on Instagram, but I still cried like it was the first time hearing it. And I still think it’s curious that one of the BIGBANG members, Seungri, was not in the video.

Taeyang was though, of course, and his part made me cry almost as much as the cameos from GD’s parents. They must be so proud of him, I can’t even stand it.

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Did I mention that G-Dragon brings a live band on tour with him? Well, he does and they’re the perfect accompaniment for him. They add layers to his songs that elevate it to the next level. These guys aren’t just some amateurs off the street, you guys. I looked up the guitarist Justin Lyons because he looked familiar to me: he’s American and has been playing guitar for BIGBANG since 2012! So that’s why he looks familiar, because I’ve seen him on several live videos. G-Dragon had very genuine camaraderie with them too and that was one of my favorite things to watch, I addition to G-Dragon’s dancing and G-Dragon’s snarly expressions and G-Dragon’s sparkly clothes and G-Dragon G-Dragon G-Dragon…..

Huge shoutout to that backing band though.

Every time he came back on stage in new clothes, I thought, “HOW CAN HE KEEP LOOKING BETTER AND BETTER?” Only G-Dragon could pull off those looks. And that’s why he’s also a fashion icon in addition to being the biggest Kpop idol in the world.

I’m fascinated with him—and his parents. You don’t just learn how to captivate millions of people, you’re born with that magical ability. And I wonder, when did his parents first start noticing that he was more than just a basic human being. The whole Kpop industry in and of itself is interesting to explore and research, a total rabbit hole that you won’t want to climb out of, but G-Dragon is the most alluring out of it all. I could talk about him for hours, which is usually what happens at work until I check myself and put a cork in it before I get moved to a different floor…

…in a janitor’s closet.

But sometimes Lauren or Todd will casually ask me something kpop-related and the words are rushing and elbowing each other to escape my mouth like the doors to a Black Friday sale just opened at the Storytime Store.

Even for someone like Henry, whose heart isn’t nearly as invested in all of this, it was a spectacular event full of fire, confetti, amazing dancing, and G-Dragon being flawless and charismatic. One of my favorite parts was when he was alone on stage, just him and a microphone, talking to us in perfect English. It felt so personal! How does he do it!? Everyone started chanting “Kwon Jiyong” again and my heart blew up like a bloody balloon. Being surrounded by thousands of people who feel the same about him as I do was therapeutic, relieving, cathartic. It’s hard being alone in this back home! I took this all in, absorbed it, and felt validated in my balls-to-the-wall obsession. I can’t imagine having the restraint to just “casually” like him and judging by the people around me, being unrestrained is a real epidemic. :)

Every time he came to our side of the side, I cried. His eyes are so sparkly—how does he get them to sparkle in real life?!

The third act started with a video of G-Dragon’s monologue about what it’s like to be him, how he has been G-Dragon for so many years now that he’s beginning to forget who he really is. It was raw, unfiltered, and heartbreaking. I know for sure I wasn’t the only one crying when he was broadcasting his existential crisis for everyone to see. There was even a part when he says something about how everything expects that he must be living this grand life, he must be so happy with his success….but then he said, “Not so much lately.” I think that’s one of the things that has drawn me to him: he has many facets, and many different personalities. When I see him in candid videos with the rest of BIGBANG, he can be downright giddy. He looks happy and comfortable with his friends. When I see him on stage, he looks fierce, and my first impression of him was actually that he seemed mean, maybe egomaniacal. When I see him in pictures taken by paparazzi, he looks alone and sad.

He is an enigma.

Watching this confessional tore me up. I could relate to some of what he said—clearly not the fame part, but the feeling alone when from the outside, it doesn’t seem like I should feel that way. I could also relate a little bit to not always knowing who I am. I show different sides to different people and does anyone really even know the real me?

He said he wants to be Kwon Jiyong again, and asked us if we would be OK with that. Everyone started chanting “Kwon Jiyong” at that moment and it was beautiful and powerful and here come the tears again. I just want to hug him so hard and tell him he is loved. Try to imagine how isolated his life must be though, any celebrity really.

G-Dragon managed to create utter intimacy in an arena filled with like 20,000 people.

The third act started right as the video monologue ended with the words, “Do you even know who you are?” GD performed four songs from his 5-song mini-album, aptly titled “Kwon Jiyong.”

• Superstar
• Middle Fingers Up
• Bullshit
• Divina Commedia

Everyone went nuts for this act.

Let me tell you some things about “Kwon Jiyong” — it consists of five ultra-personal songs written by GD. It feels different than his past work — it’s more raw, intimate, honest. And it RULES. I preordered it a few months ago (duh) — it broke records all over Asia, made it to #1 on charts all over the world, and is essentially art. Ever the innovator, he eschewed the physical CD, bypassed the more common digital release, opting instead to package this new masterpiece on a USB.

It still comes in the jewel case like a CD, so you don’t have to worry about losing it. The USB stick in engraved with his name, birthday, and blood type (more important to Koreans than astrological signs) in his mother’s handwriting, and painted with a red ink to symbolize blood/birth. It’s ingenious, really. And once you have the USB, you have access to a website which is frequently updated with content so it’s like the gift that keeps on giving.

For instance, the new video for “Bullshit” was released last week on GD’s birthday, but only on the USB. It feels like being part of a secret club!

(Until someone inevitably puts it on YouTube, but hey—at least real fans got a few hours of feeling exclusive.)

The worst part about the third act is that it meant the show was coming to an end. No one wanted to say goodbye! When he left the stage before performing his huge single “Untitled (2014),” I knew he had to come back out for an encore. And when that encore only contained “Crooked” (and also “This Love” was playing while he introduced his band and singers, because he’s a true artist), I started to worry.

Of course, no one would leave after that. We knew there had to be more.

And just like that, his voice came booming out of the darkness, singing the opening line of “Untitled.” And when the screens turned on, we could see that he wasn’t on that stage—he was walking along through the photo pit, right next to the barricade! I had seen some videos of him doing this at some of the US shows and hoped he would do the same here, and there he was! He started on the left side and it quickly occurred to me that he was going to be right in front of me eventually—I felt like a woman on the edge, you guys. Totally unhinged, teetering on panic’s threshold, with full-blown shakes.

I’m not exaggerating—my legs were jiggling like Jello, every nerve in my body was electric, my face felt blanched. I thrust my phone at Henry and said, “HERE YOU DO THIS” because I was losing control of my motor skills and didn’t want to deal with capturing this Korean god on video. I just wanted to stand there and take it in with my own eyes. So I stood there, shaking violently, hands clasped under my chin, sobbing.

When he made it to our side, I couldn’t believe my luck. He was mere feet away from me. Right there, in person, this inspiring artist who helped me turn my life around without even knowing it—he was right there, with his perfect face and friendly smile, eyes sparkling, singing flawlessly into our crying faces.

If the girl behind me hadn’t been standing so close, I think I would have collapsed. No jokes here. My legs were weak and wobbly, friends. This was almost too much for me to handle and part of me wanted to bury my face in Henry’s side and shut out the whole world before I had a nervous breakdown.

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This video was viewed nearly 50,000 times in Instagram! I have never had a video viewed even a fraction of that before. That’s the power of Kwon Jiyong. <3

OMFG. I can’t handle it.

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I have a video of the whole song on YouTube but these are the best clips. Props to Henry for enduring all the girls pushing and shoving him. (To be honest though, this crowd was amazing and polite, I couldn’t believe it.)

And then he walked through a door on the side of the stage, the lights came on, and the staff started shouting for everyone to leave. Amazing, magical night. There are no other words in my vocabulary oeuvre right now, just amazing and magical. I will always associate those words with this night, forever. This was the best birthday of my whole life and I will never, ever forget it. I was absolutely on fire when we walked to the subway, talking a mile a minute while absorbing all of the beautiful Korean conversations taking place around me.

I know I must really love him because I’m not sore at ALL from all the standing we did. Usually my back hurts and I start to get antsy halfway through long concerts like that, but I didn’t feel any pain at all! I must have physically removed myself from my body that night in all the GD excitement. I told Henry all of this and asked him if he felt the same way.

“Nope. I’m in fucking pain,” he casually answered.

But he did admit that he enjoyed the show and felt it was 100% worth it. He might not worship the cherry blossoms GD walks beneath like I do, but he thinks GD is a great performer and will openly admit that to anyone who sneeringly asks him how awful the night was for him.

YOU GUYS THIS WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER. How will this ever be topped? Maybe if I get to see BIGBANG someday—IN SEOUL. ON MY BIRTHDAY.

A girl can dream.

***

When we came home from Toronto, Chris & Monica suggested that we go out for ice cream do they could hear about the show, and for the next full week at work, people were coming over to my desk and asking, “Well?? How was it?” That meant so much and made me feel so good to know that a lot of people seriously understood how giant this event was for me! I wish I could turn it into a pillow and relive the whole night every time I lay my head down.

Le sigh.

A few months ago, I saw that Shawn Mendes and Charlie Puth were coming to Pittsburgh in August. I thought this would be a nice “Chooch & Erin are Loose” event because he loves Shawn Mendes and I like Charlie Puth a lot. They were playing PPG Paints arena (#foreverConsol) and the cheapest seats were going for $18.50. Reasonable! Especially since we didn’t care about super close.

If you read my KCON posts, I mentioned in one that I was just a casual Charlie Puth listener until we were in some broad’s Uber in Newark on our way to the convention, and whatever radio station she had on was talking about his current single “Attention,” and how there is a part near the end where his voice sort of cracks/cuts off. They mentioned this because most pop singers would have re-recorded that part, but Charlie opted to keep it because it showcased the emotion he was feeling when he sang that song.

Then they isolated that part for the listeners and I was in tears in the backseat of this stranger’s SUV, and just like that, “Attention” was forever changed for me. It was no longer just a pop song that I heard a lot on several radio stations.

Prior to this, I only knew him from that song he sings with Selena Gomez, “We Don’t Talk Anymore,” which is heartbreaking, too.

Flash forward a month or so. Things were calming down, the G-Dragon show was over, Warped Tour was done, so I figured that I better get those Illuminate tour tickets while I was thinking about it….

….and….

….no, it wasn’t sold out per se….

But there were like NO SEATS LEFT HARDLY. I counted nine of the cheap seats available and none of them were together. And then there were a sprinkling of seats near the stage, but BACK, at an angle, so you would be basically looking at the sides/backs of the performers. Plus, those seats were $65 before all of the fees that Ticketmaster takes in order to pay off the Devil or whatever the fuck it is that they do with that extra shit. Fucking criminals.

I mean, I like both of these singers, but not $65 worth.

So I gently broke this to Chooch who was just like, “Oh that’s fine. As long as you get to go to all YOUR concerts, Mother.”

Ouch.

But I mean, he’s not wrong, lol.

The next day, Henry was all, “Hey Star 100 is giving away Shawn Mendes tickets to caller 10” and I was like, “Cool story bitchboy, but I’m at work, so this is officially your mission.”

And that motherfucker won!

Well, kind of…

He was caller 10 but his piece of shit phone was crackling or something so they hung up.

I was so angry and made sure that everyone at work knew what a deadbeat dad he was.

The next day, I was on late shift so Chooch and I sat in my room, next to the radio, with our fingers ready to dial as soon as they said “caller 10.”

It was around this time that I actually listened to what they were saying on the radio and it wasn’t actual tickets to the concert: it was two passes to a PRESHOW PRIVATE PERFORMANCE with CHARLIE PUTH!

And then out of those winners, one grand prize winner would win tickets to the concert too.

This seemed like a sweet enough deal to me, and even Chooch was like, “Fuck yes, I want this even more than concert tickets!” and for him it’s probably because he weighed his options and a fifteen minute sit-down performance seemed more convenient to his lifestyle than a two hour concert in a big arena.

I have never won SHIT on the radio, so I wasn’t holding my breath. And true to form, it was just busy-busy-busy.

“Oh well, I’m sure they got a winner by now since we’ve been getting a busy signal for the last 5 minutes,” I sighed and by sighed I mean that I punched a hole in the wall and kicked a fucking puppy I’M JUST KIDDING.

It was just one of Chooch’s stuffed animals, and my fist didn’t go through the wall.

This time.

“How do you know it’s busy?” Chooch asked after I called the lady who won a cunt for not even sounding excited when they put her on the radio.

“Because….of the noise it was making? The busy signal?” I said slowly, emphasizing the words in a condescending fashion because that’s just how I do.

“Oh, I didn’t know what that noise meant. I thought it was just a special ring tone,” Chooch shrugged. And yeah, I guess he really wouldn’t know what a busy signal sounds like! Ugh, every new generation gets weirder and weirder.

Meanwhile, Henry was still trying to get through every hour after this since I couldn’t do it once I was at work*, and I even had my mom trying to win for us.

*(I mean, I could but I rarely make personal calls at work so why start now, sorry Chooch.)

An hour after I got to work, Henry texted me and said, “I won.”

Yeah right, I thought. This motherfucker!

“That’s not even funny. Don’t joke about that, Henry,” I texted back.

But he swore that he wasn’t lying. And he wasn’t!

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

Today was the day of the performance, and we had to be at the Cambria Suites by 1:15 to get checked in. Henry had arranged with the radio station to put it in my name instead of his, since ID was required. He accompanied Chooch and me on our voyage downtown today anyway, and I like to believe it was just as a precaution in case it was still in his name, and not because he was chaperoning us which is what he was clearly doing, ugh.

Just kidding, I was happy he was chaperoning. I didn’t want to be responsible for things like, “How do we get to the Cambria Suites” and “Do I need to feed my kid at some point, or are we good for a few more days?”

We arrived shortly after noon and the Star 100.7 broads told us we could just hang out on the patio until check-in started. So that’s what we did and it would have a lot better if I hadn’t been so fucking anxious and sweaty like I was waiting to see a dentist and not some pop singer who is kind of famous but not all the way famous.

Henry was happy because the patio was right outside of the hotel bar and since we took the trolley downtown, he treated himself to some daydrinking.

I made Chooch take pictures with me because everyone else was taking selfies and being all happy together and I wanted that too, goddammit. He was such a little fucker about it though. I guess he was mad because I made him wear these blue pants that I like but “make him look like a clown.” My days of dressing him are coming to an end.

As it got closer to 1:15, more and more people were rolling up. Mostly soccer mom types escorting their daughters and their friends. One super annoying guy had three little kids with him, so did he win twice?! I was mad because they were one of the last people to arrive and somehow of course made it second in line.

Chooch and I were about 20 people back from the start of the line, so I was satisfied with that. When we signed in (my ID worked thank god, because Henry was cozy at the bar by then), I also signed up for a chance to win a meet & greet with Charlie. My hands were shaking really bad because my nerves know no bounds anymore, so my name was like, “Erin Kell—-”

I shrugged and stuffed it into the box, never thinking about it again because I don’t win things, remember?

So we’re in line, and it’s almost 2pm at this point which is when the performance is about to start, when one of the radio ladies was all, “Hello we’re going to do the drawing now! Unfortunately, there can only be five winners because Charlie really doesn’t have much time.”

Understandable. There were other radio stations also giving away concert perks (I know because we were trying to win everything in hopes of actually scoring tickets in the process) so I didn’t doubt for a second that the guy was busy as fuck.

She starts calling out names.

One of them is “Erin Kell—–” and she shows it to another radio lady who says, “Kelly. Erin Kelly.”

I was only mildly paying attention, more interested in people-watching as usual, when hearing my name snapped me out of it.

“Oh wow that’s me!” I said jovially like some Midwestern mom, and walked away to get my meet and greet passes!

Drunk Henry was sitting fifteen feet away at the bar and didn’t know that I won!

“What was that for?” he texted me.

So I sent him a picture of the pass and he was all, “Oh wait, you won!?”

YEAH I WAS SHOCKED AT MY LUCK TOO HENRY.

I was fucking trembling at this point. I hadn’t let my brain imagine this far ahead. Now I got to actually meet the guy too? Oh god.

“I’m going to ask him if he loves Bambi,” Chooch said, grabbing one of the passes from me. Have I told you yet that Chooch has been calling Drew “Bambi” and then recently also became obsessed with the movie and tried to get us to buy it at Target but I was like, “I’m not paying $25 for a cartoon that gave made me feel suicidal without even knowing it as a child!” I yelled. And then on Friday, after G-Dragon’s birthday festivities died down, Chooch “accidentally” bought it On Demand, and I don’t just mean he rented it for like $6 or something; no that little bastard bought a digital copy of it for $22 so now we own the fucking movie and Henry was originally going to call the cable company and dispute it but then was like, “FUCK IT, IT’S YOURS NOW. BUT YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR IT.”

Then he watched it twice on Saturday and sent me all these crying GIFs.

So anyway, his new thing is asking everyone if they love Bambi and it’s so embarrassing. He yelled it into CVS when we walked by last night and the automatic doors opened.

Finally, the door to a small banquet hall-type room was opened and we were all ushered inside. Rows of chairs were lined up. Chooch got the last chair in the second row and I saw behind him. It ended up being perfect because all of the seats in my line of vision were occupied by small children so my view wasn’t obstructed at all.

Before Charlie came out, one of the radio ladies was like, “Does anyone have a question for Charlie that we can ask him when he comes out?” and Chooch immediately sat up straight in his chair and tossed me a devilish look over his shoulder.

“Don’t you even fucking dare!” I hissed and then he thought better of it. YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT.

Anyway, Charlie came out before she even had a chance to finish introducing him because he said he didn’t like introductions and right off the bat, he was so real and down to earth! I loved him even more and was really hoping that it would go this way and not like, “Ugh, let’s get this over with. #obligations”

He talked about Primanti’s, the fact that he didn’t know that Wiz Khalifa is from Pittsburgh until he was on his way here today (he did a song with Wiz and it’s currently the #1 most-viewed video on YouTube, apparently), and congratulated us for having a lot of bridges. Then he was like, “OK let’s do this” and dove right into “We Don’t Talk Anymore.”

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Some lady behind me screamed afterward, and Charlie said, “That was an A,” and demonstrated by pressing down on a key of his keyboard. “That means you’re really high-pitched. You could probably even do a D,” and then he played that key too. “Sorry, that was so nerdy. Now this just sounds like a lecture.” And we all laughed.

I just read recently that he went to Berklee so that gave him some extra cred in my book.

Guys, he sang “Attention next and I was shook.

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And he beat-boxed! I really like this song a lot. Anytime I’m upstairs and I say my jam is on, Henry knows it’s this song because I keep Top 40 radio on in the bedroom and he mumbled once, “It’s the only American song you like right now.”

It’s true.

So he only did those two songs, and some people were bitching about it later; the lady who called Henry with the info for today’s event mentioned that he would only be singing two or three songs, so this wasn’t shocking and I wasn’t disappointed. I was just really glad for this opportunity because he’s pretty well-beyond the whole “intimate venue” stage of his career it seems.

And how are you going to bitch about something that you didn’t even have to pay for? Some Americans are never happy.

Right after, they made everyone who didn’t have the meet and greet passes leave the room. Charlie came back out and we all got to have our picture taken with him.

WHY am I still so awkward at 38?! Chooch and I got up there and even though I was rehearsing things like, “Thank you for doing this for us” and “You sounded wonderful!” all I could say was, “HI YOU’RE AWESOME.”

That’s my fucking socially backward go-to.

Because he doesn’t already know he’s awesome.

Or that this is what his fans think.

He was just like, “Oh, thank you!” and then the radio people took our picture before I was ready and we left.

Then I had the excruciating task of waiting for them to post it to INSTAGRAM. Ugh, fml.

Ugh, whatever. It’s fine. I’ll take it.

I just want to give a shoutout to the Star 100.7 girls who were running the show today. Everyone was so nice and things seemed to go off without a hitch, and they more or less were on time with everything. I don’t involve myself with radio stations very often because none of the music I REALLY like is played on the radio, but I have had bad experiences in the past with DJs from the local alternative station, so I was kind of braced for rudeness. But nope — just a very pleasant experience!

*****

Afterward, we hung around downtown. We had lunch at Noodles in Market Square and then went to Millie’s, where Henry had a bitchbaby moment when Chooch and I each ordered the two flavors he was considering so he did that annoying, “Then I just won’t get any” bullshit sob story. God, call your mom. It’ll back up her theory that I’m an asshole girlfriend! But then he ended up getting a scoop of strawberry. How generic.

(Sike — it’s Millie’s strawberry, so it’s probably amazing and gilded with the sweet kisses of the actual Strawberry Shortcake.)

Chooch had cherry pie and I had blueberry lime graham.

So good. Millie’s is the best ice cream in town. I hope someone brings Charlie Puth a pint after the show tonight!

Henry, with the excuse that he was tired from having three beers and not just that he has a sleeping problem, fell asleep waiting for the trolley.

(I took this picture accidentally, with flash, even.)

Then he fell asleep ON the trolley.

Chooch and I were incredibly slaphappy after a day of meetin’ & greetin’ and ice cream and Henry tripping on a curb at one point downtown, that I straight up peed my pants (JUST A BIT) after we got off the trolley. Chooch knew he had me right where he wanted and kept antagonizing me over and over, making up dumb jokes about Henry that weren’t funny at all but I was fucking delirious so a few more pee drops escaped and then I hit my head off a corner of a wall and couldn’t even talk properly without all of my words coming out slurred and janky from the laughter. I looked like a real Brookliner, you guys. A real fucking druggie weirdo.

Came home and immediately changed my clothes on account of the pee, and then spent the rest of the day watching my Instavids over and over because YOU JUST WANT ATTENTION, YOU DON’T WANT MY HEART, BLAH BLAH BLAH TODAY FUCKING RULED.

I have so much that I want to preserve up here on thee ol’ memory website, and even though I blog every single ding dong day, I still can’t keep up. AND HOW, when my life is not really that exciting AT ALL. Also, my subscription feature is all jacked, so no one is getting notifications and for once it doesn’t seem to be Henry’s fault because he looked into it and other people have been complaining (where?) about the same problem, so even though I am straight-up pouring out my heart on here, barely anyone is reading it!

It’s always something.

But back to last Saturday! We went to Blake & Haley’s house in Monessen so Chooch and Blake could play Fundapop (the new Thingieball), and so Henry could agitate Calvin. That baby is so cute but I’m still just admiring from a distance. However, we’re all going to Kennywood on Tuesday and I intend on taking a million pictures of him not riding anything other than his stroller.

Lol, babies.

Anyway, I was super clenched watching Chooch, Haley, and Blake play Fundapop because they kept losing the ball in this super overgrown area and I kept saying things like YOU BETTER NOT LOSE ANY OF THOSE BALLS and YOU BETTER FIND THAT FUCKING BALL! and OK LET’S PUT THE GAME AWAY NOW WHILE ALL 4 BALLS ARE STILL INTACT!

I am 100% OCD over missing pieces.

Afterward, we left to get lunch before a war broke out (you know me and my hanger). We were originally going to go to Blue Flame because it was on our route home, but then we drove past The Twist in Monongahela and I casually looked it up on Yelp and was surprised to see that it was more than just an ice cream joint — I knew it had food but I figured, you know, hot dogs and nachos.

But no! The menu looked legit, so Henry turned around reluctantly—I think he was prepared for false advertisement resulting in me flipping tables. The last time we were here was when we did the Ice Cream Cannibal photoshoot with Chooch and the place seemed like it was closed forever then.

These pictures never get old!

You know how sometimes you walk into a restaurant and you just know it was meant to be? That’s how I felt on this day. I loved everything about it! LOOK AT HOW FUCKING CUTE IT IS!!! And shabby chic or whatever they’re calling this aesthetic these days is not even normally my style!

And the menu had numerous veg-friendly options, so I actually had a hard time ordering for positive reasons.

Chooch got the Greek omelet, and then after the waitress walked away, he asked us, “Do I like artichokes?” causing Henry and me to suck in our breath through our teeth  because that kid is so goddamn picky.

We figured FOR SURE he was going to just move around the omelet a lot on his plate, which is what he does when he wants us to mistake the motions for him actually eating. But no, his omelet arrived and he was like, “THIS is what artichokes taste like? HOLY SHIT, artichokes are GOOD” and then proceeded to demolish the whole thing, and it was one giant, motherwhompin’ omelet too! He ate every last bite and is now obsessed with artichokes. I hope this means that his palate (lol, I type palette at first, someone take my English degree off of me, oh wait, I never got the degree) is finally maturing a bit.

Meanwhile, I got this bitchin’ breakfast tamale thing and it was everything. So much better than the grilled cheese I would have ordered at Blue Flame because what else would I get at Blue Flame? It’s not often I walk into some small hick-town restaurant and have the opportunity to stuff my face with a tamale.

Henry ordered meat.

The service was a delight as well — what an unusual experience for us!

We ordered ice cream to go afterward and I was mad because Henry chose the same flavor as me which meant I couldn’t decide that I wanted his instead.

I forget what we got—something amaretto.

Chooch and his fancy palate got cannoli.

I don’t even remember else we did on Saturday but who cares because we managed to have lunch without fighting, and that my friends, WOULD NOT BE THE CASE THE NEXT DAY.

I’ll leave you with this wonderful song and video from AKMU which I have been meaning to post for awhile but you know, I just can’t get my shit together.

Today is Kwon Jiyong’s birthday (technically, it was yesterday since it’s already the 19th now in Seoul). I declared yesterday that I would buy a cake in his honor today, and it worked out perfectly since I’m working from home and also late shift, because that meant I could walk to Potomac Bakery and then decorate the damn thing on my break.

(Chooch declined my invitation but I dragged his dumb ass with me anyway, in a veritable monsoon. We got hardcore splashed by a truck on the way there and it was so humiliating but we perservered. ITS THE LIBERAL WAY!)

Chooch and I carefully, and after much deliberation, settled on a mildly festive cake with enough blank space on the white frosting to allow me to stick my decorations in it.

“Do you want it to say anything?” the lady at the bakery asked. Here is where I either say too little or too much, never just enough. On this day, I went with TOO MUCH.

“Well…” I hesitated, wondering if they would scrawl Happy Birthday in Hangeul for me. “Ok so this is weird but this cake is actually for our favorite Kpop singer—-”

“Ours?” Chooch screeched in a “don’t bring me into this!” tone.

“What?! You like him too!” I cried defensively, and then noticed the lady was totally confused and still waiting for an answer. “Oh, so I wanted it to say happy birthday in Korean, but I figured I would just do that myself—”

“Do you have your own icing? Because I can’t give you any,” she said, completely and utterly shutting down any further explanation about my deviant Korean cake decorating.

I quietly said yes and then started to say I was just going to print stuff out and stick them in the cake but any fucks she had left to give had practically clawed their way into her ass to escape any more of my crazy cake talk.

I came home and yelled at the computer for an hour because I couldn’t find a good Hangeul font to download for Photoshop and then I found one but all the actions are in Korean so I was just blindly clicking things and now I probably have a Kim Jung Un missile virus ugh.

*****

A few hours later, I realized that I should have bought a G and a D letter candles for the cake. I told Henry this just as he was leaving work and he was all WHY COULDNT YOU HAVE TOLD ME THIS EARLIER WHEN I WAS AT TWO PARTY CITY STORES?! (And that was completely unrelated to G-Dragon’s birthday. Don’t you know that I’m tacky AF and get my regular home decor from party stores?)

So he said he’d stop at Pat Catan’s and then I texted, “ooh see if they have Korean balloons too.”

Odds are in favor of us not speaking by the time we cut this cake. Especially after I referred to G-Dragon as my king and Henry whispered “oh my god.”

On the upside I can sing Happy Birthday in Korean now! (Well, the short version. There’s also some long-ass version that’s like the length of an actual song and my memory can’t handle that today.)

***

It’s 7:30. I’m still working. Henry printed out my cake decorations, and I have my GD crown adorning my warped pate.

JANNA IS NOT HERE YET.

Every time I open the door to look for her, passersby do a double take and then I remember that my crown flashes valiantly.

It’s now 8:00 and Janna still isn’t here. I have the cake all decorated and I told Henry that we don’t have to wait for Janna.

“She’s basically just coming for cake, so we can start without her. She doesn’t have to be here for the actual ceremony.”

“She’s so lucky,” Henry just mumbled.

***

OK! Janna got here so after I was done working, the celebrations got underway! I made Chooch invite his friend Jaden so it looked more like a party. Jaden seemed extremely confused and not amused.

Wow, we had MAJOR issues with the candles and Henry was like THATS ENOUGH! PLEASE STOP LIGHTING THE CANDLES BEFORE THE HOUSE BURNS DOWN.

The candles were melting so quickly that we didn’t even have a chance to sing Happy Birthday in Korean after I PRACTICED ALL FREAKING DAY.

Happy birthday, my King. I hope you had the most amazing 30th birthday of all time. <3

Heyo! Lori scheduled a belated birthday lunch for me last week, at a place of my choosing, and described the event as an opportunity for me to talk about all things G-Dragon. 

I accepted immediately, even though Wendy was invited too, ughhh. 

(J/K for anyone who takes my words literally.)

I’m awful at choosing places to eat downtown because I don’t eat out for lunch very often (habitual oatmeal/Cream of Wheat nosher here). But at the eleventh hour, I remembered that there was some ramen joint opening up down the street and a quick Google search of “ramen Pittsburgh” let me know that it opened a few weeks ago. 

Luckily, my suggestion was met with happy acceptance because Lori was under the weather and wanted something soup-y, and Wendy was just happy to not have to make decisions, probably. 

Obviously, I picked this place because it jives with my new Eastern palate. 

We got there around 12:30 and it was pretty empty, which was concerning. But…there’s construction happening right outside and past of their entrance is blocked by scaffolding, so we figured that was why. 

Hoped, anyway. 

Lack of diners aside, the decor was on point!

And I immediately bonded with the waitress, who came over to get our drink orders and said to me, “I love everything you have going on here,” while waving her hands over my teenaged accoutrements. 

TELL ME MORE. 

BUT WAIT FOR WENDY TO COME BACK FROM THE BATHROOM FIRST. 

You know who else would have hated this? Chooch. He despises that my teenage accessories garner attention. He’s always like, “Why can’t you just carry a normal purse like other moms? Like a beige one or something? Why are all of your purses like cartoons?”

Because I’m all about that animated life, boiiii. Step off. 

While we perished the menu, I was going on about how I’m not that annoying vegetarian who goes to restaurants and makes annoying requests and meatless demands. Meanwhile, I spotted something on the menu that had KOREAN PICKLED DAIKON in it and did you know I fucking love daikon? Well I do. Send me a basket of it for Christmas. 

But that dish had pork in it. 

There was another dish that was similar, but vegetarian. That should have been enough but it came with rice and it ramen like the pork dish, and I wanted the ramen because we were in a ramen joint. So I asked the waitress if I could either get the ramen version without the pork or the veg  one with ramen and I could almost feel Lori’s and Wendy’s joining forces in Eyeroll Unity while I could hear my voice being a few octaves higher as if that would make me sound friendlier in my Vegetarian Princess demands. 

We couldn’t do the first option because the sauce was pork-based (I appreciated that she knew that!) but she confirmed with the kitchen that the second option could be done with no problem. I thanked her profusely and prayed that she didn’t think I was some cranky asshole with an imaginary food allergy. 

Wendy did mention that it was my birthday though, so maybe she just assumed I was one of those douches who expect the world to spin at their own speed on their birthday. 

Meanwhile, Wendy and Lori ordered a simple, standard, house ramen. Oh those low-maintenance carnivores!

Their ramen really did look delightful though. I wanted to steal those eggs. 

I was so pleased with my lunch! Honestly, it tasted like something Henry would make me at home, which is a true testament to his Asian cooking skills. It was such a comforting, delicious lunch. It was daebak! 

That daikon though. 

Anyway, 45 minutes into the lunch I realized that we hadn’t talked about G-Dragon at all because Wendy was talking about gross smells and Lori was trying to determine if she had a cold or allergies and I was struggling to eat my noodles like they were live tentacles. 

Ugh. 

Lunch was so good though, and the waitstaff was so friendly and accommodating! I want to go back and drink all the sake. 

Thanks, Lori & Wendy!

Spent all night seething over that racist piece of shit leading our country straight back to 1944, but I woke up to not one, but TWO new Taeyang videos. 

So happy that I get to see him in a few weeks. So happy for a few moments of bliss this morning before reality sets back in. 

My favorite Pittsburgh ice cream shop, Millie’s, recently opened a second location minutes away from where I work downtown. I thought it would be an awesome idea to skip out on one of our Monday meetings and get some Millie’s instead. I broached this idea to Boss Amber,  paired with the gentile insinuation that it could be a TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE. But Amber was like, “Um it’s ice cream, you don’t need to justify it” and an ice cream outing was officially scheduled!

This has been a rough year for our little group. We lost* two people – Amber1 and Gayle – and plus everyone has had to endure all my DAILY KOREA FACTS all year, so some fancy locally-sourced ice cream was just what we need to boost morale. 

*(I mean, they’re still alive, but still! We miss them.)

Guys, I got SZECHUAN ROASTED PEACH and it was to die for. The only way it could have been better would be it was, I don’t know, gochugaru roasted peach. 

Lauren got coconut lime, Todd & Amber both got Vietnamese coffee, and dumb Glenn probably got a scoop of Plain. Who knows, who cares. 

I took a group picture for our department’s Wiki page—I’m one of two people in our department with editing rights so every once in awhile, random Kpop pictures find their way into the limelight and everyone is all, “Ugh Erin Kelly.” 

On th way back to the office, some deranged street person sidled up to Glenn and started screaming about if Glenn took him to the ATM and gave him $100,000, he’d be his best friend. 

“I come out here every day, and no one bothers me. I come out here with Erin and all her friends come out to attack me,” Glenn mumbled as we crossed the street, leaving his new friend behind on the sidewalk.

****

Back at work, I was all hunched over, giddily editing our group photo, getting it primed for its public debut. 

After I posted it on our group’s page, I announced, “Ok our picture’s up!” No one said anything. I craned my neck to see if Lauren was going to our wiki page. 

She was not. 

Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer so I flat out told Todd to go and look at it. 

“I already saw it,” he said. “You showed us on your phone.”

“Yeah but….just go and look,” I urged, standing behind him to make sure he did it. It took him FOREVER TO GET THERE because he doesn’t have it saved as a favorite. Ugh. 

When he saw it, it took him awhile to register, but then he laughed. 

“Wow,” he said in a total #smh tone. 

Lauren, upon hearing us laughing about it, decided she better go and check it out too. I’m sure she was low-key worried because god only knows with me, you know? But then she started giggling too. 

I had to wait for Amber to come back from her lunch break, but when she did, I practically crashed into her desk and sat on her lap in my excitement to have her look at the picture. 

She doesn’t have our wiki page saved as a favorite either so I had to stand there doing the pee-jig while she clicked through 18 pages to get there. 

She didn’t catch it at first, but when she finally saw G-Dragon’s perfect face, she started laughing and cried, “You’re….so special.”

The best part is fielding questions from the people in our department who have somehow avoided the Kpop-mania on our side of the floor, after they go to our page for actual work-related reasons and see our picture. That’s just the new intern, you guys. Kwon Jiyong. <3

On the offchance you’re tired of the sickening displays of racism in our collapsing country, here’s a blog post with just pictures of my cats. 

Because I don’t have the energy for anything else. I’ve spent all weekend ranting to Henry about Charlottesville and our “president” and I just feel like some stupidly hopeless white girl who can’t make a difference aside from the one motherfucking “White Lives Matter” sticker I angrily peeled off a door in an alley in Dormont last week. I wish racists could be peeled off the face of the earth that easily. 

America could be the most progressive country in the world, but instead…..this. 

Can we get a real leader yet? Like some Marvel motherfucker? How much longer? SOS please send help, Canada.