I was having a bad morning yesterday but had some time to kill before walking to the dreaded trolley so I was pissing around on YouTube. I somehow stumbled across a video called TAEMIN’S PRECIOUS LAUGH so of course I watched it and within 5 seconds my mood had improved.

I texted it to Henry because I share all of the things with him, jury’s out on how he feels about this. Then I called him on my way to the trolley and this is how that convo went:

Me: DID YOU GET THE VIDEO I SENT YOU.

Henry: Um, that’s 7 minutes of Taemin laughing. I’m sure you watched every last second.

Me: I did! Did you?

Henry: No! I don’t have time for that!!

I told him it was OK, we’d just watch it together later that night. And we did! At first Henry just sat there frowning, but by the end, his mouth was slightly curved into a smile.

Just like the time I made him watch a 15 minute compilation of G-Dragon eating.

Honestly though I think I might need to watch this video every morning, because I was in a grand mood all day yesterday! It’s hard to believe that someone can be so adorably giddy and then walk on a stage and look like this:

(Side note: If he doesn’t win for best male solo dance at the MAMA show tomorrow I’m going to break something of Henry’s! They’ve already screwed over BTS and G-Dragon.)

Last night, Chooch and I were working on our puzzle and he was mindlessly singing “그대로 그대로 repeat” – I love how brainwashed my household is!! We are down so deep in the rabbit hole.

ETA: Chris suggested that I have a painting commissioned of Taemin and G-Dragon squaring off to be my ultimate bias. I told her this was a great idea and immediately had visions of a Renaissance-style masterpiece with angels hovering in the background.

Chris said that Chooch and Henry could be the angels and I love this image! When I told Henry, he mumbled, “Stop talking to Chris.”

The evening was going so well. Henry and I had watched about an hour of compilations of kpop groups speaking English, because we live such wild lives, and then Chooch wanted me to work on our puzzle with him.

I love this puzzle because Henry hates its existence so much, but I also dislike it because have you ever seen Chooch and me working together? It’s the opposite of harmonious.

What’s the opposite of the harmonious? Meghan Trainor thrash metal, I guess.

Also, as if it’s not hard enough bumping elbows with Chooch when lunging for those coveted edge pieces — cats.

In an effort to stall the puzzle pandemonium, I decided to grab an apple, which of course requires me to spend additional time looking for/washing/positioning the apple corer because I can’t just chomp down on a pink lady like Trump going beast-mode on a box of KFC.

I need my fucking fruit cut into pieces.

OK let’s just cut to the chase, AND I DO MEAN CUT: as I pressed the corer down onto the apple, IT FUCKING SNAPPED INTO ABOUT 48 PIECES NO NOT THE APPLE THE FUCKING CORER!

Some of the pieces sprung back onto my hands and I knew, I just knew: I HAD BEEN WOUNDED. I let the plate and the remains of the apple fall into the sink while I ran out of the kitchen, moaning loudly and holding up my damaged limb. I collapsed onto the staircase, not knowing what else to do with my broken body, and proceeded to apply pressure to my thumb while yelping, actually yelping, in pain. I was straight panicked, had no idea how bad it was, only that my right hand was on fire.

Chooch came running over to assess the situation and did his best to calm me down while Henry strode past us to survey the scene in his precious fucking kitchen. I thought he was in there looking for bandaids at first, but no, there he was: picking up pieces of corer carnage while I’m rocking back and forth on the steps, applying pressure to my thumb and screaming.

“WHY AREN’T YOU GETTING ME A BANDAID!?” I wailed. Henry walked out of the kitchen and asked, “Why, did you get hurt?”

OMG DID HE REALLY THINK I WAS CARRYING ON LIKE THAT BECAUSE I WAS UPSET THAT I COULDN’T CUT MY APPLE?! I mean, I guess that’s valid if you know me, but COME ON HENRY. I’M BLEEDING OUT OVER HERE.

So he sent Chooch upstairs to the bathroom to find me some lame, regular person bandages that are all beige and translucent and not pretty at all.  Henry tried to put some kind of spray stuff on it and my instinct was to kick him in the nuts, so he put his hands up and got rid of the spray before my foot could make contact.

While Henry diligently applied the bandaid to my thumb, I noticed another cut too and started screaming all over again.

“THERE IS NOTHING THERE!” Henry yelled, but there was, so he had to go and get me another bandaid. HA.

I thought I had a bunch of cuts on my left hand too but it ended up some being some apple shards.

This is all Henry’s fault. I told him weeks ago that the apple corer was cracking, but he was all, “JUST USE IT UNTIL IT BREAKS.” Well guess what motherfucker, it broke and nearly took me out with it.

While I was being bandaged by Nurse Henry, Chooch ran into the living room and yelled, “I KNOW WHAT WILL HELP” and put on a Taemin video* for me in a desperate attempt to diffuse the bomb ticking from within me because he’s the best son in the world even though today he apparently got a splinter and told me that it was way worse than my apple abrasion but he didn’t even cry, wow cool story SONNY BOY.

SIDE BAR: I watch this video a lot because I like to announce the part where Taemin is about to pop open that blazer, what.

Meanwhile, Henry was back in the kitchen. I assumed he was cleaning up all of my blood spatter and bone shards, but no – he was cutting up the apple with a knife, and then tried to serve it to me, like are you kidding? That piece of fucking fruit just assaulted me, I’m not eating that blood apple!

“You didn’t even bleed,” Henry sighed and this is a lie because I peeked at my thumb before he bandaged it and there was a literal FLAP OF SKIN hanging there and blood was definitely all around it. I’m lucky I even still have a thumb, if we’re being frank with each other here.

I spent the rest of the night wincing and sniffling every time I bumped my thumb.

Henry said I should have gone into acting.

The first thing I did when I got to work this morning was put better (read: prettier) bandaids on over top those dumb plain things.

“I feel like I should have probably gone to the hospital to get a staple,” I said after summoning up the courage to relive the previous night’s horror through words.

“I can staple it for you,” Glenn eagerly offered. Later, he made me relay the tale of terror to Amber and after she was done fake-caring, she shook her head and said, “It still blows my mind that you had a C-section.”

I agreed, but then added, “I mean…I did try to get it out of it, though.”

It might be a while until I eat another apple, if ever. I mean, I never had another kid after that C-section, so.

(Ed.Note: I told Henry I had to finish writing this blog post and he got all incredulous. “How do you even have that much to write about it? IT WASN’T THAT BAD.” Oh my god.)

Thanksgiving used to be a day that gave me so much stress. Where will we go!? Who will invite us over?! How can we be normal Americans?! But once you realize that other peoples’ traditions don’t have to be your traditions, things get a lot easier. Henry and I were just happy to be home from work, and Chooch was stoked to be home from school because the workload of sixth grade has been kicking his ass. We relaxed. Chooch hung out with his friends. (“Where did Chooch go with the gas mask on?” Henry asked when he saw Chooch leave the house, face obstructed by the bulky black mask. Apparently he was playing baseball in Marky’s backyard.) I watched kpop videos (OK MOSTLY TAEMIN VIDEOS). Henry cooked a casual dinner of sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, butternut squash, some kind of fake ham roast (HE DIDN’T BUY THE TOFURKY IN TIME, YOU GUYS), and a wonderful homemade sweet potato pie.

It was a great dinner but I was mad because I had these lofty dreams of eating dinner inside a pillow fort but Henry wouldn’t help us build one and I got frustrated and tore the whole thing down and yelled at Henry for not buying a play tent the other night like I asked him to!!!! THIS COULD HAVE BEEN OUR NEW TRADISHUNNNNNNN.

While we ate, we watched birthday party videos on YouTube, which is what we started doing by accident two years ago on T-Day. In fact, the day before at work, my co-worker Marlene asked me what I was going to do for Thanksgiving. After I told her about the birthday party videos, she looked at me intently and them asked, “…but, you’re going to eat something too, right?”

At the end of our convo, she walked away and said, “Um, Happy…YouTubing.”

I mean, she asked!

Anyway, immediately after queueing up the first video, I felt full of rage. All of these famous-for-nothing YouTubers live in the same type of house: an under-furnished white/beige McMansion with literally no personal effects. I DON’T UNDERSTAND. We watched one with these two young sisters, and the one was having a surprise half-birthday party for the other, and it was so scripted and fake and BORING AS FUCK, AND THEY HAVE 8 MILLION SUBSCRIBERS.

Life is so unfair.

Henry, about one of these lame YouTube families: “THEY HAVE THEIR OWN GOOGLE APP.” He usually doesn’t get involved in our bday party YouTubing & he was instantly filled with regret.

We watched another where this basic ass white family had a birthday party at the roller rink for their bitchy teenage daughter and all of her Mean Girl friends. A few minutes in, I yelled, “WAIT WAIT WAIT….did they rent the whole rink out for this bitch’s birthday party?!” and as I said that I remembered that I too rented out a rink….twice.

BUT I DON’T HAVE 4 MILLION YOUTUBE SUBSCRIBERS.

After about an hour of this, I was tapped out and had to go back to kpop videos.

The next day, Thanksgiving Day #2, Henry had to work so Chooch and I hung out with Janna.

We had lunch at Spice Island and Chooch actually ate. He made this huge production of tasting each vegetable—normal ones, like cauliflower and green beans—like he was an alien visiting earth for the first time. He also had a pot of jasmine green tea and was so fucking dramatic about drinking it that I started to beg him to start a food vlog so that he can get a million followers and then we too can live in an echo-y McMansion which I will quickly turn into a virtual funhouse.

Afterward, we were going to walk around Schenley Park but since we were so close to CMU, we decided to explore the campus because Chooch is obsessed with one day going to college there. He has it all planned out.

Chooch was so afraid that we were going to get in trouble for being in there yet he gives no shits about trampling around the Pitt campus.

The last time I was at CMU was in 11th grade for my friend Evan’s art show. I remember him accidentally taking a door handle off one of the doors in whatever building we were in and giving it to me. I was SO EXCITED because I had a huge crush on Evan and here he was giving me a doorknob.

I’m not sure if I still have that doorknob, but I definitely have a video of this scene because I used to take my camcorder with me everywhere back then.

(As I’m writing this, Chooch came back in the house with the gas mask in his hand. “I just like wearing it,” he said.)

Chooch and his new dad. This was right before he ran across the grass because he wanted to pet some dog but then the dog’s owner crossed the street before Chooch could get there in time. It was a beautiful failure and Janna and I had a grand time mocking him.

Honestly, all Chooch cares about these days is petting dogs. It puts me in precarious situations because then I feel obligated to also talk to the dog owner and I just hate it so much. I hate talking to people, ugh.

We took a short break from competing/arguing/swearing at each other to take some selfies. I asked Janna if she ever feels like she’s our chaperone and she slowly said no but SHE HESITATED.

This is some famous CMU paint-thing. There were paint cans and brushes laying about so Chooch and I took that as our invitation to add our own flair.

And then Janna had enough of us and took us home, where we became Henry’s problem.

I’m usually at odds with Sundays but this one has been pretty daebak. Maybe it’s because I have tomorrow off so this doesn’t really feel like a Sunday, I don’t know. This whole weekend has been very kpop-centric, so I can’t complain. (I know, when isn’t kpop fueling my life these days.)

Henry is totally into kpop, too, way more than he ever was into any of the post-hardcore/screamo/pop-punk stuff I liked. In fact, yesterday morning, he casually said to me, “I was reading this article about SM Entertainment….” and then he actually agreed to doing an entire hour of kpop workouts with me last night!

When people say kpop is a trap, they’re not kidding. It has spread through our house like the sweetest disease. For example, if you were wondering what Henry listens to when he’s alone making greeting cards…

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Henry was using Chooch’s desk to make cards because his usual work station (aka the dining room table) has been taken over by the 2000 piece puzzle that Chooch and I impulse-bought Friday night at Target. Henry has been threatening to destroy the puzzle all weekend, but the cats might beat him to it. So far, neither of them have been as malicious toward puzzles as Marcy was though. She hated the joy that putting together puzzles brought me. :( I miss her.

HEY SPEAKING OF CARDS AND KPOP: I made this beautiful Lee Taemin Valentine yesterday. I woke Chooch up to show him and the cringe-fest of it all made him mumble, “I hate you.”

If you’re into Kpop, or know anyone who is, this card is guarenteed to get a great reaction because hello, what set of working eyeballs in this world don’t enjoy feasting upon the flesh-masterpiece that is LEE TAEMIN?

There’s plenty of space inside to scribble some fingerhearts or write secret love messages in Hangeul. Plus, it comes with an envelope because we don’t skimp here at noncomposcards.

Here, go buy one.

Later on, we went to Armstrong’s for dinner and Chooch was fucking PAINED because his buddy down the street just got into Minecraft and Chooch desperately wanted to play it with him but we had the audacity to drag him with us and feed him, but god forbid if we DON’T feed the little fucker, we never hear the end of it! For instance, on Friday when we were at Target buying the aforementioned puzzle, Chooch realized that he hadn’t eaten dinner and when he mentioned it, Henry paused and said, “…..you had lunch.” Like that was the best excuse he could come up with for neglecting his child!?

“You had lunch” is the new excuse that Chooch and I have been throwing around all weekend.

Somehow in the midst of all the incessant whining, Chooch was able to eavesdrop on the young couple in the booth diagonal from us. “I think that guy just said something about Rap Monster!” Chooch exclaimed, to which Henry and I laughed, “Yeah right.”

But then I heard it too! The guy was saying something about not understanding one of Rap Monster’s parts and then something that made us think that they were talking about the AMA performance, and then also he name-dropped Suga!

“OMG THOSE PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT BTS!” I squealed. “I want to say something. Please let me say something!”

“Don’t!” Henry hissed, and blocked me from getting around him in the booth. He hates it when I butt into other peoples’ conversations, but I was so excited because this was honestly right after I was crying in my dumb American salad and saying that I feel like I don’t belong in this country anymore.

IT WAS LIKE THOSE PEOPLE WERE PUT THERE TO MAKE ME FEEL LESS ALONE!

Chooch, meanwhile, forgot about Minecraft and was now obsessed with drawing attention to himself, so he kept loudly singing “Go Go” and spitting out “BTS” in a Tourettes-like fashion.

Then when he realized he was wearing a KCON shirt, he made this huge production of shrugging out of his jacket, STRETCHING, and the standing up next to our table and loudly saying, “I WONDER WHERE THE BATHROOM IS” while dramatically tugging on his shirt and jutting out his chest.

It was hilarious and also very embarrassing.

They never did acknowledge us, but when they walked past us on their way out, Henry thought he recognized the girl as one of the managers at the CVS down the street from us so now I’m going to go there every day this week while wearing my light-up G-Dragon headband.

Now we’re just hanging out watching videos on YouTube and Henry said, “Let’s watch this again,” and with an actual flourish, he put on the new video for BTS’s “Mic Drop” remix. LOOKS LIKE HENRY FINALLY FOUND A KPOP GROUP TO STAN. (I just asked him if Jimin is still his bias and he said, “HE NEVER WAS” – wow, so defensive.)

Non-kpop related, but when we came home from dinner, Chooch was craning his neck down the street to see if his dumb friend was home and I was like, “OMG YOU ARE SUCH A WORLD-CLASS STALKER!” and then Henry was all, “OH HO HO! LOOK WHO’S TALKING. HE GOT HIS STALKING SKILLS FROM THE #1 WORLD CLASS STALKER. JIMMY!!!!”

Oh yeah.

It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving weekend without Henry slaving over a turkey DIY project.

A few months ago, one of the neighbors was throwing away a plain wooden end table.

I was like, “I WILL TAKE THAT THANK YOU” and enlisted Chooch’s help in dragging it across the lawns under the veil of night.

We needed a table for the back porch and this was perfect. But…it was so plain. Have you seen my house? It’s a mod podge of spray-painted furniture—some of it literally does have Mod Podge on it too. So I knew I needed to spice this up.

We’re working on a much larger project using engineer prints and Henry was talking about needing a smaller project to practice sealant techniques on the prints, so I GOT THE BRIGHT IDEA to have a G-Dragon engineer print made for the table!

With a bit of practice, Henry managed to find a way to adhere and seal the print without the image running so now I have a beautiful and completely frivolous G-Dragon coffee table for the back porch.

Just DONT PUT YOUR COFFEE ON IT. It has sealant on it but let’s not get crazy with it, OK IMAGINARY HOUSE GUESTS?!

We had to run to the craft store today to get glue for the gems and I ran into the director of our department. First of all, I was carrying a huge candy cane for Trudy so Sue was like, “Oh wow what projects are you working on now?” so I had to explain that the candy cane was for our mannequin Xmas tree and that we were also there to get supplies for a G-Dragon table. Sue was like, “OK! Well um I can’t wait to see pictures!

” I should have told her I was making a traditional Xmas wreath with pine cones and ribbon – she probably would have been way more shocked.

I wanted Henry to make the table light up but he was like I CANNOT MAKE EVERYTHING IN THE FUCKING HOUSE TWINKLE, OK?!

And this has been: The Making of a Kwon Jiyong Furniture.

Stay tuned for my follow-up DIY: The Lighting of a Lee Taemin Lamp.

Thanks for reading. Please continue to support me. (THATS WHAT KPOP IDOLS SAY TO THEIR FANS, OK.)

After our visit to the Mattress Factory last Saturday, we walked up the street to hang out at Randyland. If you live in Pittsburgh, you probably for sure know about Randyland because it’s the happiest place around. The owner, Randy (obviduh) bought some dilapidated property in the 90s and slowly turned it into a a giant outsider art masterpiece. We were there on a dreary November day, but even then it was bright and magical. I WILL JUST LET THE PHOTOS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES.

환영합니다!

Guys. I’m not trying to get your hopes up, but Janna wrote something about needing a new job on her worry card, and she got a new job literally four days later. Chooch and I both wrote TRUMP on ours so maybe Trump will be impeached? LOL BUT SRSLY PLZ.

Basically what the inside of my head looks like, but please add more gold glitter and kpop idols .

Now if you’ll excuse me, Chooch and I bought a 2000 piece puzzle at Target last night and he’s yelling at me because I’m taking too long of a break but hunching over a fucking puzzle hurts my back! Ugh. Have you ever really SEEN Chooch and I working together on anything? It’s not pretty. Not even a little.

Hey boy hey I’m back with more Mattress Factory photos. Everything you see here will be from the main Mattress Factory building.

I was so entranced by the funhouse-mirror effect that the weird foil stuff on the walls had that I never actually bothered to read anything about this exhibit. I don’t even know what it was called, but maybe I should move my dying plants there because the set-up seems way better than what I have at home.

(Also Janna is going to kill me for posting this picture because that is obviously not what she looks like at all.)

Plant room selfie.

The next room was an Allan Wexler experience in levels and architecture. It was not my favorite but Chooch was really drawn to it, probably because it appealed to his nerdy, analytical mind.

I did, however, enjoy the intravenous coffee table.

Here’s a random picture from the fire escape:

If you don’t take gratuitous selfies in the permanent Yayoi Kusama room, then have you really Mattress Factory’d? This is always the crowd pleaser whenever I bring new people to this joint, and it’s not surprising that this is the only thing that Chooch remembers from his past visits.

I read recently that Russell Wilson shut down the Seattle Art Museum to take Ciara to see the Kusama retrospective for their anniversary. LUCKY.

There’s a permanent Greer Lankton exhibit on one of the floors, but it was recently expanded to include a temporary display of old works that her family lent to the museum, and we were shook. I already liked her a lot, but these drawings and paintings give a deeper look into her life.

Funny enough, we entered this room in reverse order and apparently missed the sign that warned of sexually explicit content, so I had no idea what we were getting into until Chooch wandered off, then came back and said, “UM PLEASE COME HERE” and pointed out a super porn-y drawing which made me crack up. I sent a picture to Henry who was like GOOD JOB ERIN but really he was like NICE THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE ART.

Honestly though, most of it was really sad, emotionally disturbing, and worked as raw and visceral diary excerpts.

None of these are the one that disturbed Chooch, but on the way out, he pointed out another one called, “Cunt on a Stick” and mumbled, “Nice. Real nice.”

And then on the way home, it was all “THAT GREER LANKTON ROOM WAS PRETTY GOOD, DON’T YOU THINK?”

This is the permanent Lankton exhibit, called, “It’s All About Me, Not you.” I highly recommend exploring her work. She was fucking fascinating.

“What, hold on…” Chooch said, before tossing a brooding stare over his shoulder. “OK, now take my picture.” The Mattress Factory triggered his inner model, you guys. He was like this the whole afternoon and it was starting to creep me out a little.

These remind me of serial killer prison art and I would gladly hang them all in my bedroom.

Chooch got a B in stupid art this semester because when he leaves the school to go to the Gifted Center, he misses art class sometimes and therefore is unable to finish projects and I think this is fucking bullshit because:

• it sometimes feels like the regular school punishes the gifted students in stupid ways like this;
• art shouldn’t be graded

I feel like having experiences like we had last Saturday afternoon at the Mattress Factory is worth more than whatever bullshit busy work an elementary school art teacher is doling out. (Not knocking art teachers at all but the one at his school has been a pain in the ass since the beginning.) I suggested he write a review of his day looking at real art and turn it in to her, but then I’m afraid he’s just going to be like, “I SAW LOTS OF DICKS DRAWN WITH CRAYONS AT THE MATTRESS FACTORY.”

For my obligatory Thanksgiving bullshit post this year, I am obviously going to say that I’m thankful for Kpop, le duh. This morning, I was talking to Henry about it, how much better the concert experiences have been than the ones I’m used to, how all of the fans are so nice, how it feels like I finally belong somewhere, and I started crying so hard, haha. Henry patted my leg and said, “OK, take it easy.” I mean, all of this is in addition to the fact that I have literally lost 25 pounds just by dancing to Kpop and eating kimchi every day. Whoever would have thought. My life has always been driven by music, since I was a little kid, but I think it’s safe to say that this is the most fun, healthy, and healing it’s ever been for me.

More specifically, on this Thanksgiving Day 2017, I am giving thanks for the beautiful Lee Taemin, aka BIAS WRECKER. He released his second solo album last month and it has been giving me life these last few weeks, especially while I have been sick (physically and mentally — it’s been rough in my head since Halloween). There have been times when I’m getting ready for work in the morning and take a break to sit in the bed and cry to one of his songs – I don’t typically like the slower/ballad-y kpop songs but his are pure art and make me feel like I’m being wrapped up like kimbap, which I’ve needed these last few weeks because sometimes, even when I’m in a roomful of people, I still feel alone. It’s been nice to have something to latch on to.

And no, I don’t need him to sing this in English; it brings tears to my eyes just the way it is. Not as much as this one does though:

This is not hyperbolic: I started thinking, just thinking about this song at work the other day and had to lowkey slip into the bathroom because I couldn’t stop crying. I’m wrecked.

Things I love about Taemin: the way he pronounces “j”/”ch” sounds (Henry thinks this is absurd and says he can’t hear it, no matter how many times I play “Press Your Number”), his intricate & subtle 1980s jazz dance moves (he’s one of the best dancers in Kpop PLEASE WATCH THAT VIDEO UP THERE; I watch it 87 times a day), his mature silken voice, obviously his perfect fucking face good lord help.

Chris and Monica stopped by last Monday and they can attest that the only thing that played on the TV during the hour they were here was Taemin. At one point, Monica commented on his shoes and I was like, “Oh, I never noticed. I literally only ever look at his face….”

Henry doesn’t like Taemin because he feels threatened by his beauty but don’t worry – Chooch said he will go see him with me if he ever does a North American tour so I guess I better start saving up!

(I just told Chooch that today I’m thankful for Taemin and he rolled his eyes so hard and walked away. So maybe I’ll be going to see him alone after all. VIP FOR ME THEN.)

Um, I guess I’m also thankful for Henry and Chooch, too (for not implementing any sort of kpop ban in the house and for Henry having the best Erin Needs Tampons intuition.)

For the first time in years, I watched a music awards show. I had to sit through nearly three hours of blandness waiting for the one freaking thing that I wanted to see (isn’t that always the case). But it was worth even enduring that atrocious Christina Aguilera “Bodyguard” soundtrack medley (sorry, never been a fan).

Before I get to the good part, here are some more thoughts:

• I did really enjoy Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez (I just really love her), and the Zedd/Alessia Cara performances, so there’s that.
• I don’t think Tracy Ellis Ross (or whatever the fuck her name is) is funny or a big enough personality to carry a whole awards show. And I don’t care if she’s Diana Ross’s daughter. JUST MY OPINION.
• EVERY TIME THEY SHOWED BTS IN THE CROWD, CHOOCH AND I SCREAMED.
• Fuck Florida Georgia Line and I don’t even know who the broad was who was singing with them.
• I don’t dislike Pink but maybe if her music was more interesting she wouldn’t have to hang off the side of a hotel.
• I liked Gaga better during her bloody Paparazzi phase, but I do like that single she performed even though it honestly sounds like it could be have been sung by any other current girl pop singer out there right now. (Her performance that year at the VMAs is still my all time favorite awards show performance of any band/singer.)
• Kelly Clarkson seriously seems like the nicest person in the whole industry and she makes me smile even if her music isn’t really my thing.
• I cried when Linkin Park won even though I haven’t been a fan since like 1999.
• If someone would have told me 12 years ago that one day Portugal the Man would be performing at the AMAs I would have laughed. (Also sorry to sound like a fucking hipster but their old shit was better.)
• WHY NO CHARLIE PUTH THO
• Shawn Mendes is talented. I support him.
• I was excited to see Diana Ross! I opened up to Henry and Chooch about how when I was young in the 80s, I thought “Missing You” was the saddest song ever written because that one part where she sings, “I’m missing you / Tell me why the road turns” always made me think that literally the road turned while her boyfriend or whoever the song is about was driving, and he kept going straight and crashed and died. Henry and Chooch unanimously agreed that I’m dumb, so they can both fuck right off. IT WAS HARD TO SHARE THIS STORY

OK on to the most important part…

Unless you have been living under a rock, you probably heard that, omg, a KOREAN BOY BAND performed at the American Music Awards last weekend. I was so stoked for this. BTS isn’t my bias group but I do like them a whole lot, especially since this last record of theirs came out. Even then I said that it blew American pop music out of the water and now look—America is catching on. I’m going to try hard to not come off as a pretentious music snob cuntface over here, but I’m like thoroughly smug and validated right now. I WILL TRY TO TONE IT DOWN because I know how annoying I can be. #selfawareness

I was a nervous wreck all day on Sunday, like I was waiting to watch my actual seven sons perform at the school talent show or something. I was driving Henry nuts (duh) but even he was anticipating this event. We went to Blake’s that evening for birthday cake (he’s 25 now!) and the whole time I was like OK BUT WE NEED TO BE HOME BY 8. WE’RE GOING TO BE HOME BY 8 RIGHT and I don’t  know what the big deal is because we honest-to-god live 4 minutes BY FOOT from Blake and Haley’s apartment so I wasn’t ever going to be stranded there, AMAs-less or anything.

Sometime around 10:30, the Chainsmokers walked on stage and I knew it was finally happening. It made sense that the Chainsmokers would announce them because they collab’d on a song on BTS’s recent record.

I’m honestly crying all over again as I type this but those boys fucking slayed that stage. And the fan chants made us so happy – the Armys were representing so hard out there that night! I read that the AMAs had to actually mute the crowd because it was so hard to hear the music hahahaha. Chooch was like, “Everyone there experiencing this for the first time now knows what my ears felt like at KCON!” Honestly – I have been to a lot of concerts in my lifetime, but I have never heard screaming as loud as I have at kpop concerts. It’s a whole new level of fan-girl.

I stood right next to the TV with my hands over my heart through their whole performance. I have seen them perform DNA on sooooo many Korean music shows but man…seeing them at the AMAs, giving all the Western music world a run for its money? Fuck yeah boys, get it.

Several of my friends even admitted to me that they watched it and now they see why I like Kpop so much. I mean, I honestly just really like how the language sounds, to the point where I wonder if I wouldn’t like it if any of the groups recorded English versions of their songs. For example, I tend to not like the Japanese versions they record at all. And don’t even get me started on how much I love their dancing. I also think it’s not understood how hard these people work! And BTS especially — they’re not as prefabricated as you think. They write most of their own songs and J-Hope does a lot of the choreography for them. They are artists in every sense of the word and it does irritate me when people here scoff at Kpop like it’s inferior to…what? All the Meghan Trainors and Taylor Swifts whining on our radios? Just because Kpop is in a different language doesn’t mean it’s “weird” or “a joke” or “creepy.” And hey American interviewers – STOP ASKING THEM IF THEY’RE GOING TO RECORD AN ALBUM IN ENGLISH. Isn’t it enough that there’s an English remix of “Mic Drop”? :(

From the reaction that BTS’s performance got Sunday night, it seems like maybe our country is becoming more open to the idea of Korean pop music. Believe me, there are millions of us here who already know how wonderful it is! I know this because the last time BTS toured the US, tickets sold out in minutes, so um…hopefully they’ll add more cities next time?

My favorite part was the next morning, my boss called over to me, “So have you stopped smiling yet?” I didn’t know what she meant by that, and she followed up with, “They really brought down the house last night!”

“Oh my god, you watched??” I asked, and she said, “Yes! You’re the reason I knew who they were!”

Glenn was all, “What. What’s going on?” And I smugly said, “OH NOTHING JUST ONE OF THE KPOP GROUPS I LIKE MADE HISTORY LAST NIGHT AT THE AMAS NO BIG DEAL” and he was so annoyed because he wants Kpop to be a joke forever and ever amen.

I’m so proud of these boys. I felt like I was watching  my seven kids matriculate! Way to represent South Korea, BTS.

After being sick for-fucking-ever, I desperately needed to get out and do something fun, and since it’s been nearly two years since I’ve gone to the Mattress Factory, an outing there just seemed right and not full of exertion (i.e. I wasn’t yet ready to participate in a tire-throwing competition or anything like that).

Plus, it’s been at least 6 years since I last took Chooch there, so long that the kid has zero memory of ever being there, and he was really stoked about this. I have been grooming that kid to love museums since he was in the womb, y’all.

Womb is such a gross word.

Anyway, we got Janna to go with us too because Janna is my OG Mattress Factory accomplice. We’ve been going semi-sporadically since I learned in 2005 that we could use our Pitt IDs to get in for a discount. (I was determined to milk that fucking ID for all that it was worth – tens of thousands of dollars, it turned out.) The last time I went to the MF, Janna couldn’t go because she was LITERALLY BUYING A MATTRESS THAT AFTERNOON. Oh god, what are the odds.

I have written about this place a shitload of times on this blog, so if you’re ever interested in seeing pictures of past installations, there’s a search  bar around here somewhere, I think. Otherwise, I will just quickly tell you that it’s a gem on the north side of Pittsburgh, my favorite museum in the city, a hands-on experience, quirky, fun, unique, blah yadda etc. If you live in Pittsburgh and haven’t gone there, you’re dumb (I’m kidding, please don’t stop reading this, I’m desperate for readers!). And if you’re planning on visiting Pittsburgh sometime ever, you should definitely check this place out because it’s cool, yo. It’s cool.

It was actually moderately crowded on this particular day, which is not usually the case. So we were kind of annoyed when we started the day off in one of the annex buildings and could barely enjoy it because a million college kids were pushing their way through the cramped spaces and setting off emergency exit alarms (“It wasn’t us!” I said to the docent who pushed past us to turn it off. “It was those college kids, wasn’t it!” she cried and we were like YES MA’AM!!! Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure she was a college kid, too.)

The installation in this building was the same for years and I was really growing tired of it, but now it’s this crazy three-floor exhibit by Dennis Maher called “A Second Home.” It was like walking through a dollhouse in a way and we were all infatuated. However, it was also kind of dangerous because there were steps where you didn’t expect them and lots of spots where you had to duck – Janna and Chooch both smacked their faces off the same spot and I laughed.

There was this young couple behind us who fucking rushed us through the entire first floor because they were practically walking on our backs. That in addition to the girl making disparaging art critiques almost ruined my day there. Almost. We lost them after a bit, luckily, and our experience was greatly improved from then on.

Chooch was really into it from the get-go. Age 11 has been pretty great. His attention span still kind of sucks, but places like the Mattress Factory are just stimulating enough to hold his interest. He wasn’t blowing past each painting like he used to do at the zoo when he was a kid. Our zoo visits were done at record speeds! It felt more like being at a gallery with my two friends and not just “my friend Janna and my kid Chooch.”

I don’t know what I’m trying to say here, except that my kid is growing up to be such a cool person and I really enjoy spending time with him, especially when Henry isn’t with us because that’s when we get along the best.

Also, Henry thinks art is dummm so he didn’t want to go with us anyway.

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On the way to the second annex, Chooch literally chased down a lady so that he could pet her dog. Ladies and gentlemen, my son the serial petter.

OK, I honestly cannot constructively describe how the first floor of the second annex made me feel, except that I was ready to pack a bag and move in because it fit my aesthetic to a motherfucking T, you guys. To the point where I was frantically trying to figure out which room in my house to completely gut and invite Vanessa German over to construct “sometimes.we.cannot.be.with.our.bodies.part.2.” Sorry Chooch, you can sleep on the couch, mommy needs your room for bigger and better things.

This was around the time Chooch started to get super pose-y and I had no complaints about that.

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I just wanted to lay down in the middle of all this gaudiness – DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME.

Liberace probably would have ejaculated immediately upon entrance of this room.

We spent a lot of time in this room, taking it in from every angle. There were so many details to see! I need to go back. I miss it.

Eventually we moved on to the second floor.

This was David Pohl’s “furniture music” which we also fell in love with. The mauve walls made me feel so peaceful and it’s a good thing 97% of my current plant collection is now dead because I’m going to tape them all over the walls. The Mattress Factory is always giving me the best interior design tips.

This is probably why Henry hates it so much.

“Take a picture of me sitting on this chair.

”

The look on Janna’s face when he said this was priceless. It was totally saying, “Look at the monster you created.”

“squawk.”

I’ll be back later this week with pictures from the main part of the Mattress Factory, where a chunk of Chooch’s innocence swan-dove out the window thanks to some, um, mature art.

Sometime in September, Chooch came home with an order form for some dumb Southern Living cookie dough that the school was pushing the kids to peddle, and I was like, “LOL you can just throw that in the trash because I’m not taking it to work!

” Honestly, I hate fundraising bullshit, and I especially hate asking co-workers to buy things when most of them have their own children who are selling magazines and hoagies and slingshots and fidget spinners, I dunno what kids sell these days.

Flash-forward a week or two later. Chooch said he was going over his friend Wesley’s house and we were like, “Look both ways before you cross the street, don’t take candy from strangers, don’t talk to my Mexican taco cart boyfriend without me.

”

He came home a few hours later and it turns out, that sonuva took the order form with him and actually made like 8 sales to random people in Brookline!? Of course, his Corgi buddy Bob bought two containers of dough, but I didn’t recognize a single other name on that form! “Oh, that’s the lady who lives next to Bob, she has a dog too. And that’s her mom, who lives across the street. Oh, and that’s Ed’s* girlfriend” because Chooch gets around, man. He fucking gets around.

*(Ed is the guy who owns the gaming place on Brookline Boulevard, and Chooch of course has befriended him because most of Chooch’s friends are adults so why not add another.)

Meanwhile, the order form is all ATTENTION PARENTS, PLEASE SUPERVISE YOUR CHILDREN. DO  NOT LET THEM GO DOOR-TO-DOOR, because the world sucks these days. If this was the 80s, cold-calling would be encouraged! HERE’S THE MILKMAN, SON, ASK HIM IF HE WANTS TO BUY SOME FUNDRAISER FRUITCAKE! He’d have come home with 348 sales!

Unfortunately, Chooch collected checks from two of the houses, and the separate instruction sheet that was sent home from the school says that no checks are accepted, even though the order form states otherwise.

So while one of the checks was made out to Chooch’s school, the other one was made out to “Central Middle School” and we were like, “Wtf is this school?” and it turns out it was what the sample check on the order form had written on it, for fuck’s sake. So Henry had to take Chooch back to these two houses to exchange their checks for cash, which is how we realized that one of the lady’s lives in the house behind us, the same house with the garage window that Chooch busted a few yeas ago which turned into a summer-long odyssey of the husband repeatedly showing up at our door to remind Henry that he still had not replaced the window, because Henry is the king of procrastination, which is one of the things that his mom and I argued about last spring when she blamed me for him not doing all the things he promised her he would do and I was like DO YOU THINK HE DOES EVERYTHING I WANT HIM TO DO THE FIRST TIME I ASK HIM TO DO IT, LADY?! My god, guys like Henry are the reason why women have to nag in the first place.

BUT I DIGRESS.

Anyway, the point of this story is that as soon as I saw that he made some sales on his own, I suddenly morphed into Captain Competition and decided that I would take the order form to work and try to outsell him. Normally, people will bring this shit in and leave it on the table by the kitchen and let it sell itself. Not me. I kept the order form right where I could see it, on the counter behind Lauren, and flat-out accosted everyone who walked past with this super-aggressive opening line, “BUY SOME COOKIE DOUGH.” You’d be surprised how many times it worked! I even got Todd to buy a gluten-free tub, and Mitch too who almost definitely has never baked cookies in his whole entire life, good thing he has a wife now.

You guys, I became consumed by selling. I even told people that I would accept Paypal, so I was able to strong-arm Chris and Monica as well, by sending them pictures of their options. This went on for a week until it was time to return the order form to school, which is when we discovered that whoever NANCY is didn’t pay Chooch. “She said that she will pay when the cookie dough is delivered,” Chooch shrugged. “This ain’t no C.O.D!” Henry barked, prepared to scratch her name off the list, but Chooch was all, “WE CAN’T DO THAT! SHE’S SARAH’S MOTHER!” and we were like WHO THE EFF IS SARAH and apparently she is the lady who lives across the street from Nancy and also ordered a tub. Chooch was so certain that Nancy was good for her word, that he SPOTTED HER THE MONEY.

I am so glad there were no cameras on us the evening before the order form was due, because it was like we were all using math for the first time in our lives. It took all three of us to count the money and add the sales, twice, before we finally arrived at the same number. It was beyond stressful.

I know what you’re wondering: “But Erin, did you sell more than your son?” PFFT FUCK YEAH, YOUR GIRL DID. Chooch sold enough to get some janky prizes worth about $7 but more importantly, since he sold more than 20 tubs, he got to go to Pizza Hut in a limo, so even though he didn’t reach his lofty goal of 125 tubs which would have scored him a Playstation or whatever, he was very pleased.

And then I remembered that I was going to have to bring all this shit to work and distribute it, and I immediately regretted the choices I had made.

Are you like me and sick and tired of being let-down and heart-broken by bands full of misogynist, woman-beating, statutory rapist douchebags? I mean, are there any good American bands left in the scene that we can still love and support without a guilty conscious? Probably, sure, but who knows who they are right now. For now, can I suggest some new music for you to enjoy without feeling like a hypocrite?

Great! Here are some of my current favorite songs. Pretend like we’re having a dance party at my house! Daebak!

1. Red Velvet – Peekaboo: They were one of the first girl groups I really loved when I got into kpop, and their new song has been stuck in my head all day. I don’t really understand the video, but it’s very aesthetically pleasing to me (all of their videos are!).

2.  Super Junior – Black Suit: I don’t understand this video either, but this song is such a bop. I’m just a casual fan at best, but this new song and their recent appearance on Weekly Idol has made me grow more interested in them, for sure. (Henry’s bias is Shindog.)

3. EXID – DDD: One of the first kpopX routines I did was to EXID’s “Up and Down” so they have a special OG place in my heart. When Hani’s smile fades at the 1:37 minute mark I am just like QUEEN. Ugh, this song is great. Long live EXID.

4. Astro – Crazy Sexy Cool: I never really cared much for Astro until this song came out. I think the video is so fucking adorable, and such a refreshing change from the Warped Tour / post-hardcore scene. Give me these pretty Korean boys any day.

5. Taemin – Move: I have to include a Taemin pick her because Henry seriously doesn’t like him for some strange reason and it breaks my heart, but I mean, he came around with BTS so maybe there’s hope for Taemin too?

So there you go. Five recent singles from South Korea that you can enjoy without wondering if any of them would harm your underage daughters.

Happy Saturday, chingu!

Hello. It’s Friday and I am better but still not 100% which is entirely all my fault because I have admittedly still been exercising every single day since I’ve been sick. I KNOW, I’M A DUMMY, Henry tells me this constantly. But I have a sickness (I mean, in addition to my current respiratory sickness). I got to work from home today at least because it’s Light Up Night in Pittsburgh which means downtown is an absolute clusterfuck of people who never come into the city and act like it’s their first time walking down a sidewalk and one time there was a shooting, so….Speaking of, here are some bullet points!

• My little baby! My honey bunny! My lamby wamby! (Ok I’ll stop but props if you know that movie. No one did on Instagram.) But you guys, look at my pretty son. I wish I was even a third as photogenic as him.
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  I’m also amazed that his hair stayed up until the picture was taken because bro is notorious for smashing it down as soon as he’s out of my eyesight.

  • Funny story about these pictures is that they went missing immediately after Chooch brought them home and I was like, “Did you look under the couch?” and Henry said “YES OF COURSE I DID THAT WAS THE FIRST PLACE I LOOKED YOU DUMBASS” and then accused me of “probably” “accidentally” throwing them away with the circulars because he’s forever-bitter that I throw that shit away before he can look at it but hello, I hate that he just leaves them scattered all over the dining room table for like months on end, like hello, those sales are OVER now, boyfriend. So Henry put gloves on and tore through all the garbage bags because I’m sick, remember (no seriously even if I was well, I wouldn’t do that).
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    No pictures in the trash. So then a few days later, I was like, “LOOK UNDER THE COUCH AGAIN, I DON’T BELIEVE YOU” and so he lifted the couch while I was laying on the floor and sure enough there they were. SERVES YOU RIGHT, HENRY.

    • I mean, I guess he had a valid point about the garbage though because I’ve accidentally thrown out two wallets.
  • Also re: my pretty son, he talks about college pretty much every time we take our nightly walk (my favorite pasttime right now, btw) and tonight he casually mused, “What job should I have while I’m in college? Uber driver, probably.”
    • Speaking of our nightly walks, on our walk two nights ago, a Corgi puppy bit him and he was crying, not because it hurt but because it was “a dream come true.” (Full disclosure, the owner warned him that puppy was teething and nippy, but he didn’t care, and it wasn’t like A Scene or anything.
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      )

  • In other Chooch is crying news, he got kicked out of the library the other day and this is the second time a librarian made him cry and I shouldn’t laugh because it’s not funny…..but, is it tho?

• I have been subsisting on Korean soups and porridge all week, thank god for Henry. He made a wonderful 호박 죽 (pumpkin porridge) over the weekend and I wanted to just bathe in it.
• BTS has been in the US all week, doing various late night show appearances leading up to their performance at the AMAs on Sunday, and I have been so excited! They did a mini-concert on Jimmy Kimmel (it’s supposed to air on the 29th) but this video was on Youtube and I was dying because I could totally see this happening to Henry and I would BE SPITTING MAD.

• Chooch and I were watching some girl’s vlog where she was in the Hongdae district of Seoul, and she said, “People come here with no fashion, and leave with style” and we started choking to death on our laughter, imagining Henry leaving with any sort of style. “Maybe at most he’d leave with an expensive plain gray t-shirt,” I said, and then we started hiccuping through the laughs.

• Um…help yourself.

• Penelope loves Taemin so much that she lays near the TV to be close to him. 
• My flowers have finally died at work and are so much more style now. When I took this picture, I couldn’t stop laughing because it looks like that fake finger is a big dick, so I posted it on Instagram and my work-friend Colleen said her little boy was scrolling through her feed and was all MOMMY WHAT IS THAT and as such, an interesting conversation was had.
  • Speaking of flowers, I forgot about the whole season change thing and now 80% of my plants are dead. My kid is still alive though, in spite of his staunch refusal to wear a fucking coat.
• Jonny Craig’s pathetic bullshit band got dropped from their record label today because the industry IS FINALLY STARTING TO HEAR WHAT HIS EX-GIRLFRIENDS ARE SAYING ABOUT HIS GROSS DOMESTIC ABUSE AND LITERAL RAPE AT KNIFE POINT. Fuck this piece of garbage, fuck him so much, and fuck all of his blind minion fans who are constantly defending him and victim-blaming and saying that his exes just want their fifteen minutes of fame, and if that were the case, maybe they’d be out dating an actual fucking celebrity then and not some lowlife hasbeen. Perhaps I will write something more about this later but I am just too angry right now. More needs to happen. He needs actual legal consequences.
  • Also? Quit saying shit like, “That was years ago, get over it” because let me tell you motherfuckers something (not you guys, those other motherfuckers out there who hate women), I was in an abuse relationship when I was in high school, 20 years ago, and that SHIT STICKS WITH YOU. I still have occasional dreams of him coming after me, telling me he’s going to poke out my eyeballs and jam them up my vagina (an actual threat he gave me as we fought in the middle of the street I lived on and I was crying so hard and begging him not be mad at me BECAUSE HE HAD ME PSYCHOLOGICALLY TRAINED TO THINK EVERYTHING WAS MY FAULT OMG I CANNOT WRITE ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW I JUST CAN’T. I AM SO FUCKING MAD.
• Phew! That took a turn, didn’t it? Here’s something light: I had animal crackers and hot chocolate for lunch two days in a row this week because I’m living my best life (of a 4-year-old).

Well, on that note. I’m going to go and….probably exercise even though I still can’t stop coughing because THIS IS WHO I AM.

Oh, P.S. FUCK YOU, TRUMP.

Oh hey hi hello. Here I am, coughing a bit less but still talking like Kathleen Turner. Let’s look at some things I’ve been super into lately:

1. Like a sheet mask for your neck & chest:

2. Nose veils. Looks great paired with a turtleneck and leggings.

3. Swiss candies.

4. Taemin’s sweet, sweet dance moves in this live Press Your Number video:

5. ANIMALS NOT DYING ON TV SHOWS:

6. COLE SPROUSE AS JUGHEAD:

So, what are you into lately? Hopefully not a basketful of respiratory infection like meeeeeeeeee.

Oh hey guys, what’s up. I’m just over here slowly perishing from whatever gnarly chest cold bullshit I have. I thought I was getting better over weekend BUT NO now it’s manifested itself inside me as the cough of a 70-year-old chainsmoking secretary from the 1950s.

Yesterday was the most miserable day yet. I woke up from a night of next to no rest and tried using mind-control to convince my body that I was OK, ready for the day, we got this. But everything was working against me, from the moment I walked out of the door. As soon as the front door clicked shut, I realized I left my wallet on the couch, my wallet that has all of my credit cards, my Connect Card for the trolley, my work ID—that one I could have managed without, but without my ConnectCard or the ability to get cash, I had no way to get to work.

You’re probably like, “OK so just use your housekey and get your wallet, how is this even newsworthy, yawn” but what you should know is that I NEVER HAVE A HOUSEKEY and I will tell you why: I let my dummy son borrow mine after he lost his copy and then HE LOST MY KEY WHICH WAS THE MASTER KEY TO THE HOUSE AND THE ONLY ONE THAT WORKED RIGHT!!! Henry finally one day was like, “Enough is enough” and made me a copy using his key, which is the worst-cut key ever and I have never been able to use it in all the years he’s had it. So you know the copy he made me was even worse!

I have hurled that key across the room countless times, the last time was last year when I couldn’t open the door with it and had to get Chooch’s nemesis Larry to help me and even Larry was like THIS IS NOT A KEY, THIS IS THE DEVIL’S PUZZLE! As “luck” would have it, that fucking key had somehow made its way back into my jacket pocket, the same jacket I was wearing that miserable Monday morning, so I sighed, clenched it tight in my hand, and mumbled some quick JUST STAY CALM mantra before plunging that motherfucker into the lock.

OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK so I called Henry and was like, “You listen to me, motherfucker. I am about to have a heart attack on this porch. Everything is going wrong AND THIS KEY IS A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!!” He was saying something about staying calm, he’d to come get me, don’t let the neighbors see my true colors, blah blah blah but I had already hung up because I was determined to conquer this bitch-ass housekey. Between my Hulkian twisting, simultaneous kicks to the door, and guttural screams to the Hell below, I eventually managed to wrench the door open, grab my FUCKING PUSHEEN WALLET, and punish the sidewalk with my maniacal stomps. When I arrived at the trolley stop 10 minutes later, the trolley was just pulling up and it was more crowded that I have even seen it. The able-bodied MAN in front of me grabbed the only open seat and I know this is the age of GENDER EQUALITY but I so badly wanted to play the chauvinism card in that moment because I sick, for god’s sake, couldn’t he SEE THAT?

So I had to stand, which on a normal day I would not have minded, but literally as soon as that trolley door slid shut, it was like a vault being sealed and I became acutely aware of the tickle in my throat.

Oh god, I needed to cough, and I needed to cough BAD.

First, I tried mind over matter. I tried to picture myself healthy and I don’t know, walking in a garden or something, BUT OH GOD THOSE FLOWERS! THAT POLLEN! COUGH COUGH COUGH!!!

So then I thought, well, let’s picture myself already off the trolley, coughing freely.

Yeah, that didn’t work.

I let myself cough into my arm once, hoping that would quell it. But it just made it worse, because now there were 87 more coughs queued up, getting all unruly in my throat, trying to line-jump.

I needed a new cough drop, but since I was holding on to the bar with one hand, I had only one hand left to rummage through my huge bag and I wouldn’t find it, I couldn’t find the cough drops, why god why. OH GOD I NEEDED TO COUGH AGAIN. NOW MY NOSE WAS STARTING TO RUN. EVERYONE IS STARING AT ME AREN’T THEY?!

I kept swallowing back the urge to cough until my body was racked with shudders and twitches, I was lurching and my face was getting red, but DON’T YOU DO IT ERIN, DON’T YOU COUGH, NO ONE WANTS TO BE ON THE TROLLEY WITH A COUGHER.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks now. I wanted to murder the guy who took that last seat. He is forever on my list.

I finally screamed UNCLE and got off the trolley three stops early, at Station Square, and walked the remaining mile to work, where I was able to cough freely into the wind.

When I arrived, I looked at Glenn and in what sounded like a failed Kathleen Turner impression, I growled, “DON’T TALK TO ME TODAY.”

I left work at 2 because I was annoying everyone with my hacking and Glenn was like, “Amber, can Erin go home now, or….?” I would have left earlier than that, but I had to wait for Henry to be done with work because I refused to try my hand at that FUCKING HOUSEKEY AGAIN.

“You’re so pathetic,” Glenn sighed, after I alerted everyone that I would be there for another hour. YOU KNOW WHAT GLENN?! You’re right. I’m pathetic. Ugh, I hate being sick.

Came home and coughed my dumb fucking head off all goddamn night. I bet the neighbors love me.

Luckily, I already had today scheduled off work because I had to attend a parent-teacher conference at the gifted center, and then I had a dentist appointment (that’s a whole other odyssey that I don’t even want to talk about right now). I managed to get through the conference without coughing until the very end, but I had to cancel my dentist appointment because I am a hot fucking mess. My eyes are all bloodshot from coughing and I look like I’m strung out, not to mention the whole “can’t go 5 minutes without coughing” thing.

So today has been pretty terrible as far as days off go. I have just been laying on the couch watching Riverdale which is pretty great until it starts getting into parent stuff, and then it just gets confusing. I want less shady dealings and extortion, more Jughead. You feel me.

Also, is Archie like the most boring character or what? All of his friends are involved in all of these complicated plots and then Archie walks onto the scene and it’s like, “Guys, shhh! Archie is here to talk about the lame song he just wrote and that’s more important than the rest of us solving crimes and being multi-dimensional characters!”

Also #2, Luke Perry and Skeet Ulrich are in this? 1990s Delia’s-wearing Erin is fucking sprung.

I called Henry crying because it’s lunch time and I don’t know what to do about that so he suggested that I go to Parker’s and I was like NOT WITH THIS COUGH BITCH PLZ and then he said, “Maybe your Mexican taco cart boyfriend can make you a veggie taco” and I shrieked, “NO I CAN’T LET HIM SEE ME LIKE THIS!” to which Henry laughed and said, “OK bye.” Unless that’s code for “be right there to cook for you” he can just GTFO.

I don’t do “sick” very well.

This has been a “Sick on the couch” free-form blog post. Guess I’ll go eat a piece of bread.