Oh boy, another amusement park blog post, can you even stand it.  I thought that I probably wouldn’t have anything to say about this day since we already went to Kennywood once this summer (or three times if you’re Chooch), but as usual, I was wrong because this was one of the funNEST days I had all goddamn summer.

First of all, we were supposed to go two weeks ago on a Tuesday because our recent tradition over the last three years has been to go on  the last regular weekday of the season. I take off work for this shit! However, it was supposed to rain all day and it definitely started out that way so I pulled the plug on our plans just to be safe. And of course, it ended up being a stupidly day too, with just one quick shower in the late afternoon. But rescheduling for the following Sunday ensured that  now Janna and Henry could go for the full day instead of just meeting us there after work, and Blake, Haley and Calvin were also set to come out! So even though I was not pleased about having to go on a Sunday, it would be worth it to have a nice, full group for a change.

Turns out though, Sunday was like, fireman day or something so it was moderately crowded and I was kind of concerned that this was going to ruin the day, but then we realized it wasn’t actually all THAT crowded, it was just that the park was understaffed since most of the employees had gone back to school, so not all of the rides were running at once, which made lines for the rides that were running longer than we were used to. Somehow this ended up not being as tragic as I thought and we were still able to basically walk on most of the rides except for the dumb Black Widow and Exterminator.

Also, we got free WPXI sunglasses and candy from some people sitting at a table! (They were actual WPXI people, not just randos, but I still would have taken their candy probably because that’s just who I am.) Anyway, there were a lot of stupid/dumb/hilarious-to-me things that happened so let’s do this shit bullet-style.

• Here you’ll find the first selfie of the day, while Chooch and I were on the Jack Rabbit. Please note that I always put my phone away before the ride starts, more on that later, YOU’LL SEE. Also, this was the first ride we went on which Chooch was salty about because the Exterminator is our tradition but since we were there on a day we weren’t meant to be there, I decided we might as well just scramble that shit all up. Also, while we were in line for this, Janna texted me that she had arrived so then Henry to go and meet her with her ticket (we still had some of those rain tickets left over from last year!) and Chooch and I were dying, wondering what they were talking about. Then they waited for us while we were on  the ride, like they were are our parents, and Chooch and I seamlessly fell back into our tradition of screaming, “JANNA!!!!!!” as loud as possible to try to get her attention from the ground. We’re both 8.

• In line for the Racer, some asshole was in the queue behind us wearing a MAGA shirt and Janna and I glared at him every time we passed him when the line moved. Then we heard him talking at point and I said loudly, “OH THAT EXPLAINS IT. IT MAKES SENSE NOW” and then Janna started passive-aggressively saying things and Henry had pretty much disassociated himself from us by then while Chooch was asking in major outdoor-voice, “OH ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT GUY IN THE TRUMP SHIRT?” Not pictured: Guy in Trump shirt.

Stupid group photo. Janna and I won the Racer, btw. This coaster is only fun if you win, I don’t care what other people say.

• We stood in line for the Exterminator for like 50-60 minutes it seemed like because for some reason, even when the park isn’t crowded, this ride always has the longest line. I mean, it’s essentially just an indoor Crazy Mouse and oh hey, funny story about that: Janna was talking about the last time we went to DelGrosso’s which is a small amusement park somewhere else in Pennsylvania (I don’t know, look it up!) and she was like, “Omg I loved that Crazy Mouse ride, I could have ridden it all day” and I was like, “You know that’s exactly what the Exterminator is, right?” because we have to DRAG HER ON THIS EVERY TIME and she always tries to give us some stupid excuse about how it gives her a headache. She considered this for a few seconds and said, “Oh my god, is it really?” and then I even pointed out how even the cars are the same and she was like, “OH WOW I FEEL SO STUPID” and I was like, “THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE.” And then Chooch tried to say that he’s the one who broke this same news to ME!? I was like, “Bitch you best step off because I knew that for a long time and it sure as hell wasn’t because your egg head told me so.” So then we fought about that, which was our second fight of the day, the first being when we were standing in line for the Jack Rabbit and got in a fight over semantics because he said I don’t explain things well and I said it’s just because his comprehension skills suck and he clearly isn’t that smart.
• • Also, we loved the couple in front of us because they were cute but not cloyingly so, and when we saw them later on, he had won her a giant panda (not piano like I had originally typed because I’m seriously losing control of  my brain) and we thought that was adorable. Or maybe just I did.

• Speaking of giant pandas, while we were on the Exterminator that Janna suddenly likes now, Henry won Chooch a giant unicorn, which is bigger than Calvin but not bigger than Chooch.
• Also while we were on the Exterminator, Blake and his crew arrived but Calvin is still too small to ride and Haley is pregnant again so they pretty much just took a food tour of Kennywood and enjoyed the perks of being there on Service Day (firetrucks, a cop parade, a police dog show – a baby’s paradise!).

Calvin is still at that age where Henry’s beard is cool.

• The last several times we’ve gone to Kennywood, Chooch and I have eaten at Johnny Rockets because, bless them, they have black bean burgers that suit our meatless lifestyle. However, I wanted to flip things up again on this day and go back to our old food haunt, the….pizza place? Does it have a name? I don’t know. But this is where we used to always eat pre-Johnny Rockets. Henry got a whole pizza which Chooch, me, Janna, Blake and Haley devoured while Henry chased Calvin all around. Henry said he didn’t want any pizza……..

……..but he sure looks sad here.

• While we were in the vicinity of the pizza place, we decided to also get our traditional Golden Nugget ice cream cones then too. I’ve been blogging about K-wood (ugh, I wish that actually meant Koreawood) for as long as I’ve been blogging (informative statement) so you might already know that we don’t get ice cream anywhere else but here but LISTEN UP PEOPLE: shit was wack this time. First of all, we noticed that they no long cut the squares of ice cream from the huge block that they used to use, but now it’s cut straight from an ice cream carton so the shape isn’t right and it’s more of a lumpy rhombus, and the little bitches working back there that day couldn’t be bothered and were scowling the whole time, and the worst one of them all was telling the other one about how she got fired from Giant Eagle for BEING RUDE TO CUSTOMERS AT THE CHECKOUT. Wow, you don’t say?! The dumb bitch in charge of dunking the cones in chocolate was trying to be efficient by grabbing three in her hands, but the guy in front of me was like, “I only need one of those, and a root beer” so instead of putting two of the cones back in the freezer, she continued to hold them while preparing his shitty Golden Nugget, and it was like 95 degrees out so you know those other ice creams were softening faster than a guy’s dick in front of Lorena Bobbit. After she finished his sloppy root beer, and I do mean it was a fucking mess, she turned her scowl upon me and asked what topping I wanted and I said I wanted the mixed topping at the end but I should have just told her to fucking suck on at that point because I didn’t even want it anymore but stupid Henry already paid and he hates when I cause scenes, so I took the lumpy cone from her which came with an identical scowl like hers, so I slapped that on my face and stomped back to the table Chooch was saving. I always take pictures of our Golden Nuggets because they’re masterpieces, but this time it was dripping everywhere and chunks of chocolate were falling to the ground because the fucking ice cream wasn’t frozen anymore. “I’M WRITING A LETTER ABOUT THIS,” I barked to Henry and Janna when they returned with their Sloppy Nuggets. “NO, I’M GOING TO TWEET ABOUT IT. AND I’M TAGGING KENNYWOOD IN IT!” I yelled, pounding the table. Henry agreed that I should do this because this is one thing that riles him up too – the sentiment that “no one takes pride in their work anymore.” He loves saying that. I’m going to make him a shirt with that slogan on it. But, then I got distracted because I wanted to ride the Thunderbolt, so that tweet never happened. (BUT THAT SHIRT STILL MIGHT.)

Sharing his Melted Nugget with Calvin who might never know the glory of a traditional Golden Nugget if Kennywood keeps this shit up!

Henry was this happy all day.

• The first time we rode the Phantom that day, it was still KIND OF crowded and we actually had to stand in line for like 20 whole minutes, lol. Usually we go on days that are so empty that we just stroll right onto the platform, but luckily it would be like that later in the day for us spoiled amusement park enthusiasts. We had entertainment while waiting in line though – there were two fat groundhogs down below being super fucking adorable and we all clotheslined ourselves against the railing, observing their activity like we’re not from Pennsylvania and don’t see groundhogs every day. People were even taking pictures.
• I was glad that Janna was there because while I enjoy being in a big group, sometimes there is a push & pull of what to do next and I’ll just put this right out there: I know I’m a fat girl, but I’m not the kind of person who goes to amusement parks to eat. I eat enough to sustain myself for all the running around I’m going to be doing, and I’ll usually get ice cream at some point, but the food stands are not an attraction for me. So when Blake and Haley were in line for another food thing, I was like, “WELL, I AM GOING ON THE THUNDERBOLT NOW, GOODBYE. COME ON, JANNA” and Janna was like, “I guess I am going on the Thunderbolt now. Goodbye.” Janna and I had just gotten in line when Chooch came sprinting over a few seconds later, but late enough that several people had already gotten in line behind us. “You can’t ride this without a partner!” I reminded him and this big guy in front of me said, “You can ride with me, I need a partner” and I was like, “YEAH JUST RIDE WITH THIS GUY” and Chooch was like panicking and looking over his shoulder, pretending his imaginary partner was right behind me. And eventually, we saw Big Dumb Henry do-do-doo’ing along toward the ride entrance. Little did I know that Blake and Chooch had decided to come with us but then some cop car parade happened so Blake & Haley got swept away in that excitement, so then Henry offered to take Blake’s place so that Chooch would have a partner. But now I felt bad for this guy in front of me (plus, he was wearing a fanny pack) so I made Chooch accept his offer and Chooch just shrugged and ducked under the railing to get in line with him. Henry finally reached the entrance and had this smug look on his face like HERE I AM, DAD OF THE YEAR. “Chooch has a partner now, you snooze you lose,” I said to Henry all haughtily because that’s how I say things to Henry, with haughtiness. Henry smirked and STILL GOT IN LINE!? But now there were like 15 people separating him from us so I don’t know what he thought he was going to accomplish? We kept heckling him like mean girls. And then when his line became parallel with us (because we were in a serpentine queue, you see), the guy in front of me sadly said to Chooch, “Oh. You can ride with him, it’s OK” but now Chooch was Team This Guy and said, “No. I’ll ride with you” and Henry was so confused. Then the line moved again and I lost sight of Henry so we were giggling uncontrollably about this, wondering if he would stay in line and find another stag rider to partner up with. By the time we got on the Thunderbolt, we still hadn’t seen Henry again so I figured he had just ducked out of line. As the coaster was ascending the lift hill, I looked down below and saw Henry sitting alone on a bench and I know there are people reading this and thinking “POOR HENRY” with a frown but I laughed so hard that I almost peed my pants sitting next to Janna and behind some strange man and I don’t even care IT WAS THAT FUNNY TO ME.
• • I started thinking about this a few days later on the trolley and lost it all over again, shit that happens at Kennywood is the funniest to me.

Well, I thought that doing a bulletpoint recap would spare you and me some of the words but somehow my word-control has gotten derailed just like Thomas the Tank Engine so I guess this will be a two-parter, OH BOY SEE YOU SOON FOR PART 2.

While in the process of recapping my last trip to Kennywood, I started thinking about this one time when my friend Laura was there with us, and then she texted me out of the blue last night and I was like REMEMBER THE PHANTOM INCIDENT and she was like “Oh god, I just remembered that I don’t miss you at all.” (She moved clear across the country, you see.) So then I was reading about the aforementioned Phantom incident last night and was wheezing because it is STILL SO FUNNY TO ME so I’m reposting it because this is my blog and I make the rules.

This is also a really great illustration of what it’s like to go to Kennywood with me. Janna can attest.

***

The Giggle Picture

June 2014

Above is a photo of Laura loving life as she rode the Turtles at Kennywood, which is evidently her most favorite ride ever. There was probably a Carpenters track playing in her head,  even. Too bad her life was about to change FOREVER a little bit later when she became involuntarily AMPUTATED on the PHANTOM’S REVENGE.

Shit, now I’m getting my parables mixed up.

Anyway, what happened was Laura, Chooch and I were walking toward the Exterminator (Henry was there somewhere) when Laura (this was all LAURA’S idea), threw a wrench into our well thought-out plan by saying, “Or we could just go on this…since we’re here…” and did a lazy Vanna White with her hands toward the entrance of the Phantom’s Revenge.

We had already went on this twice earlier in the day. The first time, we absolutely, postively walked right onto the platform and right the fuck onto the ride, that is how empty Kennywood was that day. Even on not-too-crowded days, there is still usually some sort of a line for this ride, because it’s the Big Shot Steel Coaster up in that piece, and everyone wants to take their turn on it, like the roofied guy at the sorority party. Oh wait. I’m sorry. I’m confusing genders.

The second time was actually a continuation of the first time, because when the coaster came back to the station, there was no one in line still, so the Kennywood peeps were all, “Hey, you guys can stay on if you want” so we did and it turns out that’s not so fun afterward, riding it with no break in between, when you’re in your thirties and not a seven-year-old like Chooch who was like, “THAT WAS AWESOME LET’S STAY ON THIS FOR THE REST OF THE DAY OMFG!!” as he pushed his eyeball back into its socket.

You should have seen Henry afterward, all clammy and green around the gills, wherever the hell his gills are, like he had just suffered through a particularly traumatizing Ludovico Technique featuring footage of all nine years of his loveless past marriage. (Past marriage.  Like there’s a present marriage. Hmph!)

So after Laura suggested riding it for the third time, Henry obviously was like, “Thank you sir, but I will NOT have another,” and proceeded to walk toward the exit of the Phantom’s Revenge, where he waited like an obedient puppy with his master’s purse. The rest of us ridiculed him for being a pussy and ran through the empty queue to the platform, where we saw there was a small line.

We chose the seats that had the fewest number of people waiting and made sure that it was lined up evenly so that the three of us could get on at the same time.

Meanwhile, there was some sort of seat belt malfunction going on. The coaster was sitting there idly, full of passengers, but the ride attendants couldn’t send it off because of whatever was going on.

“We need someone to sit in this seat!” one of the teenaged boys in a Kennywood polo shouted. “There’s nothing wrong, but we can’t send this on with this car empty! It’s not a mechanical problem, just this one seatbelt!” And he was holding the seatbelt, too, as if that was going to reassure people.

And who wouldn’t be OK with putting their safety into the hands of a college kid on summer break?

Everyone started murmuring to each other about not wanting to ride in a car with a broken seat belt, even though it was only one of the seats in the car– the other one was apparently functioning properly, so only one person could sit in that seat. Some dumbass single rider was all, “Whatever, yeah, I’ll do it,” sparking a collective outcry regarding his stupidity. Some older woman in the line next to us was FREAKING THE FUCK OUT about this and her kids (her KIDS) were trying to calm her down. “They’re not going to let people ride it still if it’s actually broken, Mom!” one of the kids cried in frustration.

“But they’re using A REAL PERSON as a dummy!” she countered.

They sent the coaster up the hill, and we all turned and watched as it raced down the hill a minute later.

“No, he’s still on it. I saw him,” Laura assured me and Chooch. I wanted everyone to clap when the coaster returned to the platform with the idiot Single Rider still fastened into his seat, but everyone seemed to have lost interest by then.

However, that became the temporary designated single rider seat for the time being while the attendants waited for the maintenance guys to arrive with a new seatbelt. “Shit, they’re going to make me sit there!” Laura cried when it dawned on her what was going on. Chooch and I, of course, nearly gave up our asshole ghosts from laughing so hard at her future misfortune.

Just then, I looked ahead and noticed that the girl who was in front of us had moved over to the Broken Seat Belt Line, which meant that Chooch and I were next. We kind of half-heartedly tried to find someone to go ahead of us so that we could ride at the same time as Laura, but everyone behind us was perfectly lined up with their respective groups as well and didn’t want to give up their spots. So we shrugged a disgenuine “sorry” in Laura’s general direction, and then climbed into the car, leaving her alone on the platform. The guy behind her was laughing at our mock-sorrow, which made the whole situation even funnier to me.

When we came back to the station, we gave her a quick wave and then ran away to find Henry, who looked confused that we were short one person. So Chooch and I hysterically recounted the broken seatbelt situation (“I know, I saw the maintenance men go over there so I figured something was wrong,” Henry interrupted, fulfilling his inherent need to speak of any sort of man in uniform) and then started laughing even harder when we got to the part about ditching Laura.

“AND NOW SHE HAS TO SIT IN THE BROKEN SEAT!” we cried, doubling over in laughter.

“You two are both assholes,” Henry yelled at us, but that was the same time we realized that the coaster was ascending the inaugural hill, so Chooch and I ran closer to take a picture of what we were lovingly referring to as “Laura’s Last Ride.”

(Time out. I am going to pause here for a second so I can walk off this ridiculous laughter before I start alarming people at work again.)

ENJOY YOUR LAST RIDE, LAURA!

We ran back to Henry, who was scowling and trying to shrug away from his hyena-brood. At this point, I was on the pee-precipice and it wasn’t looking too good. Passers-by were starting to flash Chooch and I the “I wonder what they’re on” looks, which yes, I DO get a lot, now that you mention it.

And then finally, Laura came padding down the exit trail, looking disheveled and not very pleased.

We immediately started laughing harder. Oh, schadenfreude! My old friend!

“That was the most awkward ride ever!” Laura cried. Apparently, the maintence crew had fixed the seatbelt situation after Chooch and I got off the ride, so Laura wasn’t relegated to sitting in the Single Rider Death Seat. However, when she stepped across the seat to put her purse in one of the cubby holes, she turned around to discover that people behind her had taken her seat. So she had to walk around, looking for a car with an empty seat, and that is how she ended up sitting with some single dad. At this point in the story, Chooch and I raced over to look at the picture on the screen and then promptly lost our shit all the fuck over again. Even Henry mosied on over to take a gander at the photographical evidence of Laura’s misfortune.

The kid running the photo booth was kind of fake-laughing along with us, but it was clear he wasn’t sure what was so funny. Also unclear to him was whether or not he was going to make a sale on this one.

“Henry, PLEASE give me money to buy this!” I begged in my signature mouthful of laughs / Bobcat Goldthwaite voice.

It’s Henry’s favorite part about me. Especially when it happens during sex.

“No!” he yelled. “I’m not paying $15 for that! That’s outrageous.”

“BUT IT’S WORTH IT TO ME!” I cried harder. I have got to stop leaving my wallet in the car when we go to amusement parks. This is bullshit.

And then something incredible happened! LAURA BOUGHT IT FOR ME! She didn’t seem too pleased about spending money on such an uncomfortable memory, but she did it anyway because she is a GOOD FRIEND. (Apparently, the OPPOSITE of what I am, according to Henry.)

The guy behind the photo counter was partially bemused, but mostly puzzled at this point, as Laura handed over her credit card with a sigh while Chooch and I flanked her in hysterical laughter. It’s like we’re drunk all of the time without actually consuming any alcohol. This is normal public behavior for us. Laughing so hard we need to lean on walls and people for support. Sometimes I lean on people I don’t even know because I can’t help myself, the laughter makes me walk on a slant, you guys.

When Laura handed me the photo, I blurted out, “You don’t have to get me a birthday present now!”

“I already did,” she sighed, with just a tinge of bitterness and regret.

Henry pointed out that Laura’s Temporary Husband also purchased one of the photos, which wound me up all over again. I wonder if it’s as funny to him?!!?

HAHAHAHAHA BUT THIS PICTURE, THOUGH! Baby Mama Laura! Oh shit, I have to pee — BRB.

I have been actually crying about it at work, it is THAT funny to me, but everyone here is like, “It is not that funny, if at all” and “You’re so mean to your friends.”  And Henry is like, “No really, it’s not that funny” and “I can’t figure out how you have any friends at all.”   But Chooch and me? WE HAVE FIGURATIVELY BURIED OURSELVES IN A GRAVE OF IDIOCY from all of the laughing we’ve been doing. Team Dickhead FTW!

These past two days at work, Barb has basically been searching her desk for her imaginary OUT TO LUNCH sign every time she sees me approaching  because she knows I’m going to just stand there and have uncontrollable giggles usurp my ability to speak like a regular human being. However, at least she can appreciate the fact that it’s more of the backstory surrounding the photo that has legitimately cracked my sanity. Everyone else is just looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Just today, I was walking to the trolley and I started laughing all over again, and I mean LAUGHING. So I called Henry and said, “You have to stay on the phone with me because I’m walking down the street and laughing uncontrollably.” (Which actually isn’t anything out of the ordinary in my neighborhood.)

“What are you laughing about—-” Henry started. And then, “Oh. Never mind.”

But it was too late. My laughter upchucked out of my mouth like a galloping horse and I had to pause in a doorway of a store because I almost peed my pants in the middle of the sidewalk. I AM OUT OF CONTROL. This is what happens to me at amusement parks! I turn into a hyper dickhead and then suffer from residual giddiness for days afterward and you know who suffers? Henry! My co-workers! YOU! THE INTERNET!

And then that motherfucker Henry waited until I was on the trolley to text me the picture, which caught me off guard and I had to cover my face with my hair and laugh at my reflection in the stupid trolley window and then I started crying and people were looking and some asshole probably wrote a blog post about ME, can you imagine.

Wow it’s been a while. Truth be told, if I don’t have my stupid reusable straw with me, I just won’t stop for coffee, and that’s nearly every day so that’s really saving me some money.

I was super excited last week when I stopped in Prestogeorge’s and saw that their special flavor was maple because maple is my favorite latte flavor, do you even know me. It always makes me thinks of going to Parker’s Maple Barn in New Hampshire with Alyson, where I learned that maple coffee existed and my life has never been the same. It’s my ultimate go-to fall flavor!

Every time I visit Presto, I am sucked right into the most comfortable small talk and generally, I am allergic to that shit, but those people there are so nice and not pretentious coffee dicks like at some places. So on this day, Laurie, the barista on duty, started talking to me about my apple tattoo and I was so happy that someone actually asked me what it was all about so I got to talk about being a bad apple, and she told me that she named her daughter Lilith and I felt like we really forging a bond here. I love talking about tattoos!

So as she was making my wonderful maple latte, some other broad came over to the register and was talking about how she’s so sick of young people being so obsessed with THINGS and all they want are THINGS and she kept saying THINGS with such disgust and contempt, and I started thinking about Chooch and his stupid Fortnite THINGS and felt myself getting all fired up like a typical old lady and then we started talking about how we want to bring back regular house phones and then IN THE AIR TONIGHT came on and motherfucker, I wanted to just pull up a chair and stay there for the rest of the day.

(Or at least until 4pm when they close.)

I went back yesterday and was excited because Laurie was working again but then CHER came over and yelled, “LAURIE GO TAKE YOUR BREAK” but Laurie was still making someone else’s drink so she was still hanging out while CHER made my latte and CHER was just not thrilled about anything that Laurie was doing, especially when she handed me my receipt and there was NO PEN at the register for me to sign BECAUSE LAURIE had moved it and I was like, “Look CHER I know that blush velour cold-shoulder top you have on is giving you all of the confidence right now, but can we lay off on Laurie because she’s cool as fuck” and also I didn’t really say that but I was thinking to myself that she looked like Matt Groenig had drawn her – her hair was pulled back into such a tight ponytail!

Her latte wasn’t as good as Laurie’s so that was my first mediocre experience there.

It was bound to happen.

Then last Friday, I swung by Crazy Mocha and there were different people in there than usual so I had major ordering anxiety for some reason and instead of the chai that I had intended on ordering, my eyes glanced at the pumpkin latte sign and I blurted it out and the guy who rung me up, a really sweet guy. started spouting off loudly about how I was their first pumpkin latte order of the season and do I really like pumpkin a lot, I must be so excited for pumpkin season, and I kept trying to interrupt to say that it was OK but kind of tired, you know, but it was too late because the sirens were going off and flood lights were swirling all around me while an overhead announcement was on repeat about how THIS BITCH IS BASIC. THIS BITCH IS BASIC. THIS BITCH IS BASIC. and the go behind the counter was going on and on about how soon they’ll have pumpkin biscooooooottttti, and pumpkin breeeeeeaaaad, and um, pumpkin mufffffffins and then the other guy was like HERE IS YOUR PUMPKIN LATTE, FIRST OF THE SEASON and I was like, “Thank you would you stfu please omg” and almost threw it straight into the garbage because my palate is now averse to pumpkin.

Then I had to walk past the weird urban campsite that was set up a block away – the strangest thing! A mixed bag of people were sitting in a semi-circle of wooden lawn chairs fitted with really old and dirty cushions, soda bottles all strewn about, and someone was in the middle of it all, sleeping on a mattress that looked like it had been pulled straight from a garbage truck.

“Maybe they’re protesting something,” Henry said when I described the scene to him.

“Uh, yeah, they didn’t look that ambitious,” I scoffed. It was so weird, they were taking up half the sidewalk right outside of a jewelry store, just lounging under a cloud of pot smoke.

They weren’t there yesterday so maybe a shop owner finally chased them away with a broom, who knows.

Today I went to Gasoline St. because I saw on their Instagram that the barista I didn’t like (he was like interacting with a potato and just really rubbed me the wrong way) left five days ago so I was like, “BYYYYYYYE ALEX” and then walked my ass over there because I have been crazing one of their foamy iced lattes. The girl who was working was super pleasant so now I’m excited to go here more often because anyplace that has cardamom lattes is a place for me.

Some older broad was there blowing her nose aggressively and started asking me questions about what I got and then had to walk over and look at the menu behind the counter because I guess she didn’t believe me?

“Oh yeah, there it is,” she said, satisfied with the results of her research.

She was still talking to me, but I was already walking out the door. I only do small talk at Presto.

And that’s the end of this pointless edition of lunch break coffee tales.

p.s. obviously:

As I was sitting here wondering if I had anything worth recapping from the long weekend (aside from my glorious night alone where I was strong and rejected all urges to seek company because I really needed that time to decompress, turns out), I realized that all of my highlights pretty much revolve around food, and isn’t that everyone’s life, really?

So here’s a run-down of the foodstuffs that went into my mouth this past weekend.

Saturday morning started off with me being bitchy and it turns out it was because I was in need of second breakfast, specifically Asian bread which I had been craving. If you’ve ever had mochi bread, you know that chewy glutinous-goodness I speak of. We ate a wide variety of these kinds of breads (AND MILK BREAD, MY FAVORITE) for breakfast every morning in Korea and whenever I hear people reject Asian bread for being “weird,” I give them a long side-eye.

We stocked the fuck up at Sumi’s and Pink Box, plus Henry got a coveted Korean donut filled with thick, luscious red bean which is underrated here in the States as far as sweet fillings go.

Hot bread coming through is a fucking understatement for real though. I was so bitchy until I stuffed that green tea roll into my mouth. My only regret is that we didn’t buy more!!!

After that, we made our rounds to various ethnic markets and I really just how #blessed Pittsburgh really is to have such diverse grocery and food options. Sometimes I take this city for granted, and complain that we don’t have an H-Mart, but we really do have a ton of specialty markets! Just in my own little neighborhood, I can walk to a European market in one direction, or hit up both a Mediterranean and Mexican market to the right.

I tried to get Henry to take the plunge and buy the super-sized gochujang because the night before, he gave me my dinner and I was like THERE IS NO GOCHUJANG ON THIS THO? and he said IT WAS BECAUSE WE RAN OUT. That was like the first time in 2 years!? Anyway, he wouldn’t commit to the large container, and I know you’re shocked to hear that Henry wouldn’t commit to something.

Oh and don’t worry, I bought lots of candy for the work pumpkin!

Sunday night, we went to Apteka for dinner.

I went there once last spring with Alisha when she was visiting because she is the only vegan/vegetarian friend I have and no one else wants to go to these joints with me and yes I know my SON is a vegetarian but he is the pickiest eater and anything with even a sprinkle of spice that’s not pepper will make him recoil.

But still, Henry and Chooch agreed to go with me because I have been dreaming of this place and its Polish twist on vegan cuisine ever since and Henry was like, “I AM GOING TO HATE EVERYONE IN THERE AREN’T I?” and I was like, “Wha—? Uh, no…..” but then as soon as we pulled up to it, there was a group of khaki-colored vegans hanging out in a pretentious huddle out front and Henry just glared at me.

Look, I have been a veg since 1996 (WANNA READ MY ORIGIN STORY!??!?!) and I still don’t “fit in” with this crowd to the point where I usually avoid vegan establishments all together because I feel like everyone is laughing at me behind their Zooey Deschanel bangs. Except apparently I have been avoiding it to the point where the trend has jumped from Zooey back to Chloe Sevigny because there was an entire table of girls near us who were dressed like her Big Love character and at first I was like, “OH LOOK WHO’S LAUGHING NOW” but then the one broad’s burlap pantsuit looked pretty comfortable in that “down home on the farm” kind of way and I found myself appreciating her sloppy Amish bun and oh my god, did the vegans contaminate me?!

I think the music was starting to make Henry lose his appetite but then his plate of vegan pierogi was placed down in front of him and he was like “Yeah boi.”

I made him pull his fork back so I could fit in better by taking a picture of his food.

Chooch got whatever the “special sandwich” was, something made from vegetable pate, and it promptly fell apart before I could take a picture of it to complete the Instafood trifecta because Chooch gets his eating skills from his mommy. He didn’t like the sauce on his sandwich so Henry had to scrape it off him. (I thought the sauce was lovely.

) Chooch also suddenly had a “headache” which is his new excuse for why he’s acting like a little bitch in public. His attitude nearly ruined my meal.

Just kidding, because I GOT THE VEGAN SCHNITZEL AND IT WAS PERFECTION IN FAUX-FORM. Nothing could’ve ruined this except for if maybe someone had bled on it or something.

Then we got both desserts to share because we’re fat Americans.

A lot of times when I have vegan food I am so fucking hungry immediately after but this time I was properly stuffed and almost threw up later that night when we had a vigorous round of Family Kpop Cardio Night.

The next day was LABOR DAY and I had to work from 6am-noon because I’m a sucker and signed up for it but at least I got to work from home and I knew we were going to T-Swirl Crepes afterward so that kept me alive. I got the matcha adzuki crepe which doubled as my lunch and it was pretty much the crepe of my dreams.

Chooch actually almost cried because he didn’t know that the one he ordered didn’t come with ice cream but then he ended up loving it anyway and the moral of that story was that ice cream isn’t always necessary LOL j/k it really is. But Chooch’s was still really good without it. It was some apple caramel concoction and Henry had the Lychee Romantic but he just said, “I’ll have the lychee one” when he ordered it and I was pissed because I wanted to hear him say “lychee romantic.”

Well, that’s my pointless food roundup. Ciao for now.

Earlier tonight, Henry and I walked out of the house for our nightly walk and I made eye contact with a kid just as he littered a plastic cup near my sidewalk and he quickly went back and picked it up, YEAH THAT’S RIGHT. I was prepared to say some shit about it too so he’s lucky. We walked behind him and his posse for a bit and I was happy to watch him throw his trash in a garbage can.

Still, this really set me off and poor Henry had to endure a 30 minute rant on littering and how I just don’t understand how some people are able to just toss their refuse onto the ground and walk away like it’s no big thing. If their parents never actually told them this is wrong, then that tells me they probably learned to litter by watching their trashy parents litter.

I have been known to go off on a litterer a time or two in my life.

Once was when I engaged in verbal fisticuffs with a teen who chucked her empty pack of cigarettes in front of my house while I was sitting on the porch and I told her to pick it up and she actually gave me push-back and I scanned her face intently trying to figure out if she was at least 18 in case I needed to yank her head back by her hair. I remember this so vividly because it was 2000 and I was waiting for my friend to pick me up for the Tool concert and when he found out that I had an actual argument with some probably-15-year-old, he was like, “YOU DIDN’T HIT HER DID YOU?! YOU COULD GO TO JAIL FOR THAT, DUMBASS.”

(No, I didn’t hit her. But I did win the City Girl Swear volley and she ended up picking that shit up.)

And don’t just think Americans litter, you guys. In 1992, we hosted a French foreign exchange student named Laurent and he annoyed me for a myriad of reasons but one was when he purposely let a McDonald’s straw wrapper fly out the car window on the way to the zoo. I was in the backseat behind his French ass and I leaned in real close to yell, “HEY I DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY DO IN YOUR COUNTRY, BUT IN MINE, WE DON’T LITTER” as if America isn’t full of pigs. Oh man, my mom was so mad at me because there goes Erin, making the French kid cry again.

(He cried so much that summer.)

But I think my crowning glory was when I ratted on an actual cop for littering, wanna hear it, here it goes:

It was the middle of a lazy May afternoon in Hamilton, Ohio, 2007. Christina and I were lounging around her room and I was making her cry by talking about how I hate God. I suppose I should have been penciling in a time for church in my day planner since “He” evidently spared our lives the night before when we got caught in the midst of a hail storm on our way from Pittsburgh to Ohio. It was probably the single most terrifying moment of my life and it took place right after I had been talking about Hell.

Over top of Christina’s mighty exaltation for her love of all things Christ, I heard the squelch of a siren from behind her house. We ran over to the window and discovered that there were two police officers on the street behind her house and they had pulled over a man in a truck. It seemed like it was just a traffic violation and I was quickly becoming bored. Luckily, I hung around long enough to witness the most appalling act of crime I have ever seen with these hazel eyes.

The officers were beginning to wrap things up and as the one cop made to get into the passenger side of the patrol car, he poured out the remainders of a can of what appeared to be Pepsi and then deliberately tossed the empty can into Christina’s back yard.

“Oh no he didn’t!” I exclaimed to Christina, right before shaping a makeshift megaphone with my hands and shouting “LITTERER!” and then ducking, leaving Christina framed alone in the window looking like the sole perpetrator.

Stomping over to her bed, I grabbed my shoes and sat down hard.

“What are you doing?” Christina asked nervously.

“I’m going out there.” I walked out of the bedroom and bounded down the steps, leaving her pleas in a cloud of my dust. She caught up with me before I made it to the back door and grabbed my arms.

“Look, I really don’t think going out there is a good idea. The cops around here are dicks.” She had thrown herself between me and the door so I knew she meant business. I walked dejectedly back into her kitchen as she explained to me that her neighborhood is kind of bad and that the cops are always looking for a reason to, well, be cops and that she really didn’t want to have to make that call to Henry.

“Henry!” I exclaimed in remembrance of my boy-toy in Pittsburgh. “Let’s call him for legal counsel.” And of course he wasn’t home. I left a message and that dickshitter never called back because he figured it was “something stupid” I was calling about, as I would later learn.

The cops had left by then, leaving me alone with a heightened sense of extreme community failure. I didn’t want it be over yet so I continued pacing and spouting vulgarities until I finagled Christina into calling the police station. “We have their patrol car number! Do it, Christina, for all of us civilians. And the environment. It’s God’s will.” I knew that would clinch it.

Christina finally relented, only because she didn’t want me making the call because supposedly I’m too “hot-headed.” But I would have used words like ‘reprehensible’ and ‘detestable’ to convey to the sergeant how appalled I truly was. And I would have thrown in the words ‘law’ and ‘suit’ somewhere in between mention of dying babies and that our earth is God’s playground (HAHA).

But Christina still wouldn’t hand over the phone; she was eventually dispatched through to Sgt. Ebbing (a man I will never forget, bless his heart). Explaining the complaint, she actually said, “Sir, I know this may seem trivial.”

Excuse me, trivial? Are you kidding? That prick littered in her back yard. He did something that people like us would get fined for. Oh, I was livid. She was being too nice and congenial during the phone call and my body was burning. I started to envision what would have happened if I had managed to get out of her house while the cops were still there. They don’t scare me.

This was when I decided that I really, truly, and legitimately hated that littering officer. My ears were roaring with the sound of large, wavering sheets of metal and my heart was pounding like I had just run ten yards after ingesting fourteen fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and an eight ball. I imagined scratching his face (out of malice, not passion) and striking his nose with the heel of my palm in an upward motion, just like Mr. Miyagi taught me. Then I would retrieve his discarded aluminum can and crush it against his jock.

Oh heaven, I have finally reached you through my fantasies.

Christina ended the call and jolted me out of my daydream. She explained to me that Sgt. Ebbing was going to call her back once he reprimanded the officers and that he also informed her that she could go to the courthouse and file for a citation, to which she said would not be necessary (I would have done it – fuck the police). I felt a tiny bit reassured and calmer but Christina was a little leery that Sgt. Ebbing had asked for her full name and address. “I’m a pot head! What if they’re going to be watching me now?”

“What do I care? I live in Pittsburgh.” And then I laughed. And if you know me, you know that laugh, and are probably wanting to bitch-slap me just at the mere thought of it.

In the meantime, we called Henry to fill him in. “You didn’t go out there, did you?” was the first utterance from his fat mouth.

I began to feel a complex developing and asked, “No, I didn’t go out there but would it really have been so bad if I had?”

“Uh, yeah!” he answered. “With your temper? I don’t need to be bailing you out of jail.” I have to say I’m a little insulted that I’m not trusted to handle situations such as this one on my own. But Christina was happy because Henry shared in her apprehension.

Sgt. Ebbing called back about two hours later (presumably because he was banging broads in the drunk tank), at which time Christina’s sister Cynthia answered the phone and yelled to Christina, “I don’t fucking know who it is!” The sergeant (I don’t trust him, by the way; I think he’s a cocksucker to be honest with you) relayed the disciplinary action that was sanctioned, and might I add it only entailed asking the officers if it was true and then telling them to come back and pick up the can.

But he lied to us and I know it. Sgt. Ebbing, you’re a lying cocksucker. He told Christina that the officer admitted to tossing the can, which was purportedly an “illegal can of beer” which was confiscated from the man who had been pulled over. In the midst of the confusion while they were making an arrest, it must have slipped the officer’s mind that he had littered.

Except that I didn’t see them make an arrest. I saw the man get back in his truck and leave. What did they say, “Just meet us at the station”? Oh, I don’t think so.

In other words, the sergeant wanted us to think that it was admirable of the officer to be honest about the littering, but at the same time he tried to make us feel guilty or ashamed that these men were in the throes of serving justice and that they should be excused of such a trivial act.

“I’m going out there to wait for them to come pick up the can,” I announced as I ran for the door. Christina came with me and we discovered that the can was no longer there. That asshole sergeant waited for them to come pick it up before calling back because he knew that I was about to get all Firestarter on their asses. I just know it!

I don’t feel like justice was served. And I didn’t get to swear at anybody.

But then Christina plied me with pie and the day quickly turned into “Sgt. Ebbing who now?”

MORAL: Don’t fucking let me catch you littering, better yet – JUST KEEP YOUR TRASH TO YOURSELF UNTIL YOU FIND A GARBAGE CAN. ASSHOLES.

HIGH GUISE here I am. So, a few months ago, Chooch helped his chorus teacher write an essay for some contest to win money for their music program and it turns out, she was one of the teachers who won! She got some prize money for the school, but also a bunch of tickets to see Pentatonix tonight at KeyBank and I politely declined because Pentatonix is a no for me so Henry grudgingly took him instead.

What this means is that YO GIRL IS HOME ALONE TONIGHT WOOOOO! I considered inviting some people over to hang out but I don’t feel like cleaning and I also didn’t want to change out of my workout clothes, so it’s just me and the cats tonight and in the first hour, I watched some more of Sharp Objects (I have to look away during the cutting/self harm scenes) and then burnt my hand, so things are going great.

I just realized that if Boots* still lived next door, I never would have opted to stay home. And speaking of Boots, turns out he’s out of jail now because I thought I saw him down the street two weeks ago on my way home from work but Henry was like, “That wasn’t him, unless he got clean.” But then last week, I fucking walked right past him downtown and I KNOW it was him, but he just got a little chubby. Then TODAY, Chooch was getting his hair cut at a barber shop on the boulevard so I was strolling around, and that fucking piece of shit walked past me with some older broad pushing A BABY STROLLER. I texted Henry, who was in the barber shop, and said, “I THINK BOOTS IS COMING YOUR WAY” and Henry agreed that it could be him. So then I came back to the barber shop about twenty minutes later and was sitting on a bench waiting for Chooch, when they walked past me again and stood near me while waiting to cross the street and he loudly asked the broad, “DO YOU WANT TO GO OVER THERE AND GET A SODA” and as soon as I heard that high-pitched weasel voice, I was like, “OH FUCK, IT’S HIM” so I turned around in the bench and just blatantly stared at them as they crossed the street, I didn’t even pretend to be covert about it, and then!!! Some guy stopped his car in the middle of the boulevard to yell out the window, “GET AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU TOOTHLESS COCKSUCKER!!!” and like everyone on the street stopped to stare, and I was like, “OH SHIT IS THIS MAN GOING TO GET OUT OF HIS CAR AND KILL HIM” but then Boots, the broad, and the screamer in the car all started cracking up because I guess they are FRIENDS and I was so disappointed. Anyway, that broad definitely wasn’t Phyllis but shit, as soon as she started talking, I was like, “Yes, that is exactly how I expected her to sound.” All stupid and slow-sounding, you know? And I don’t know what was going on with that baby but she looked like she could be its grandma.

I wonder if it was stolen.

So yeah, Boots lives in Brookline again, which is just fucking swell.

*(Friendly reminder that Boots was neighbor who got arrested before my LAST neighbor who got arrested.)

Also, I thought that Brookline was starting to clean up its act but those 10 minutes sitting a bench was pretty eye-opening. Also pretty sure a drug deal happened in front of me so that was great.

After I try to make dinner, I’m chucking all the furniture out the window and doing Kpop cardio all night long, as vigorously as I fucking want. Not that I wouldn’t any other time, but whatever. So I’m going to post several of the latest Kpop songs that have me doing the running man in front of the mirror while I’m getting ready for work, just in case you feel like having your own k-dance party tonight too.

I think these girls have what it takes to become the next big girl group and I really hope it happens because I love them.

So I used to not like NCT Dream very much because the first song I heard by them was Chewing Gum and it just didn’t sit right with me. But this one hooked me.

Day6 is always just on my periphery but this song made me really really really notice them. I know it’s a moot point, but I think they would have been a really cool addition to Warped Tour. They’ve had Japanese bands on in the past but as far as I know, no Korean bands.

I know BTS’s comeback has been totally oversaturating the media, but their comeback stage for Idol is so energetic and aesthetically pleasing! I sent it to my group yesterday for Friday Video and Lauren was so excited to tell us which outfit was her favorite, Amber said she wouldn’t have wanted to start the day any other way, and Todd said something about Kpop being the best ever and used like 17 exclamation points so I had to walk over to his desk and ask him if he was being sarcastic because I couldn’t tell, OK?! (He was.)

(But then he showed me which outfit he liked the best.)

Thanks to my friend Veronica for the heads up on this one! She is a huge EXO fan and I only know a little about them but now I think Baekhyun might be my EXO bias after hearing him apart from the rest of EXO. It’s cool how recognizable his voice is though because while this was playing yesterday Chooch walked by and casually asked, “Is this EXO?”

We saw these guys last year at KCON and they were so wonderful but they somehow keep flying under the radar. This is their latest and I love it so much but one of my favorite Kpop workout channels made a routine for this and it frustrates me because there is a weird arm movement that I’m not coordinated enough to do BUT HEY MAYBE I CAN PRACTICE IT 9734072497 TIMES TONIGHT!

Have I already shared this one? Who cares, this song is great and is usually always in my head.

OK, now I have to try and make some type of dinner, work on new card and pendant designs, and then dance myself into a stupor.