OK guys, it’s crunch time. January is the saddest month, with February following close behind, so it’s time to plan as much as fun activities as possible to beat the winter blues. We’re already down one weekend, and I must say, no complaints here on my end.

Saturday was GLOOM-HEHEHEHEHEHE-MY. All gray and moist, cold with a tinge of snow. Chooch ditched us almost as soon as he awoke because GOTTA GET TO THE TEEN CENTER OMG. He didn’t know what to do with himself during Christmas break because that damn place was closed. I kept sending him pictures of Drew and me, which really triggers him because Drew is “HIS CAT” but I was like, “I’m her best friend now since you abandon her all the time for the teen center.” If that made him feel guilty, I wouldn’t know because he certainly didn’t come running home from the teen center.

It was super dismal Saturday afternoon and that made me feel very tired, but I still met up with Jiyong for the first language exchange of the year. It was real fun because we talked about the differences and similarities of dating culture. So, one of the things I learned from watching k-dramas is that Koreans use this term called “some” to explain the stage two people are in right before they commit to officially dating. So they’ll say that they’re “in a some.” Jiyong asked with the western equivalent of that would be and I guess “flirting,” although that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to lead to anything since some people are just flirts by nature, lol. And I guess if you wanted to get super old-school, you could say “courting.” So I said that things were so different back in when I was in high school because cell phones weren’t a thing that everyone and their baby sister had – my mom had one but it was literally considered a “car phone” then and I remember it had this bulky vinyl case or covering, it was so strange. I told Jiyong that we would write notes and leave them in the person’s locker, or have a friend hand-deliver it.

“You didn’t have a pager?” she asked in disbelief, because I guess it was common in Korean for teenagers to have pagers in the 90s/00s?! I actually did have a pager, so it was funny to me that she mentioned that because, and correct me if it was different wherever you, Dear Reader, grew up, but in my area of suburban Pittsburgh, it was considered something of a…certain type of status symbol to have a pager, and it also subtly implied that perhaps you were a drug dealer, lol.

I had one (it was a translucent purple Motorola) because I begged my mom for one since I needed to keep up my urban aesthetic and my mom went along with it because she figured it was a way to digitally nag me. I had my pager soooo customized. I would always change the song that played when someone called it and I remember thinking I was SO CLEVER the time I changed it to Anita Ward’s “Ring My Bell,” a song I only knew because it was on some movie soundtrack from around that time in the 90s although if I had a pager right now, it would be this song:

Anyway, I guess my first “boyfriend” and I were basically “in a some” because we only “dated” for like a month and in that time, the only time we saw each other outside of school was when we met up at a tennis court near his house so I could teach him to play tennis (look I know I a slut back then but this truly is not a euphemism) but then his super over-protective mom stood in her yard and screamed for him to come home after 30 minutes i.e, the amount of time it took her to realize her son was out with a girl thanks to one of his NARC-y little brothers. But yeah, I think we held hands once in school, maybe? And then that relationship ended when my friend Scott fought him in the boy’s locker room because Scott liked me too and then they both had to go to the principal’s office and I literally cannot imagine Henry ever fighting for me (or getting called to the principal’s office for anything more than being a flunkee) so at least I can say that at some point in my life, I was fought over. THAT IS PRETTY COOL I GUESS, if you’re into Disney Channel teen programming.

Also, back to pagers, I remember being super into calling random pager numbers to see if anyone would call back (I only did this when friends were over, I wasn’t that lonely and conversation-starved back then) which having my own private phone line made it easy to do. One time, this guy called back and said he WAS A COP?! I remember we were so scared – I can’t remember who was at my house with me that time, maybe Christy? But we were just like OMG OMG OMG OMG don’t arrest us.

My mom would always text me with a 9-1-1 and it was so annoying. Everyone knew that 1-8-7 was the real emergency number to use.

SHIT NOW I KIND OF MISS MY PAGER?! I think there’s even a picture of me somewhere with it clipped to my (overalls) pocket hahaha.

Jiyong also recently came back from visiting her friends in DC, and there are lots of H-Marts in that area (the greatest Korean supermarkets in America) so she made me a little treat bag of Korean snacks, bless her. I also think I’m getting better at annunciation?! That’s what she said, anyway.

Aside from that, I feel like my Saturday mostly consisted of incessant blathering about BIGBANG? That….sounds about right.

The next day, JANNA came over in the afternoon and we headed out to Sugar Spell Scoops for some sweet vegan delights before they go on winter hiatus for the month of January. I’m sad but really, I only go here once a month anyway so I’ll survive, and it’ll just make it feel more exciting the next time we go! This is how you look at things optimistically.

I had a scoop each of Pink Peppermint and Maple & Waffles. YEAH BOI. What more can I say? I have had some subpar vegan scoops before (AHEM MILLIE’S) but Sugar Spell is so consistently delicious. They don’t get that weird, dry texture that some vegan ice cream has – I honestly can’t eat most store bought plant-based ice cream. It just always has…a taste.

Meateater Henry even enjoys an occasional animal-friendly scoop. Here, he can be seen eating the Winter Break sundae, which he had made with peanut butter chocolate ripple. It’s filling enough for a burly lumberjack-type such as himself, and the best part is that I can scarf down two scoops and not feel like absolute shit afterward. Maybe I might be mildly lactose intolerant – Janna and I were just talking about this because she thinks she too might be and this is one of the reasons she, as a carnivore, does not bitch when I suggest going to Sugar Spell and not, I dunno, the Milkshake Factory or whatever the fuck.

If you live in or around Pittsburgh, or are coming in for whatever reason, I HIGHLY suggest stopping here. The people who own it are a freaking delight and the inside of the shop is so charming with a light witchy-vibe. Just be mindful that they’re closed for the rest of January and only open Friday-Sunday otherwise. (Just Saturdays and Sundays in the winter though.) Their pints are available at some local stores so you should check their website/socials for that information – LOOK AT ME BEING A RESPONSIBLE BLOGGER.

They also do custom ice cream cakes so that might be a fun change for Chooch’s next birthday, sorry Bethel Bakery.

I love that vegetarianism/veganism is becoming so much more prevalent and accepted in America. I rarely have those awkward moments at work lunches anymore where there’s nothing on the menu for me and I have to ask for something special or just get a house salad, hold the chicken/ham/bacon thanks.

I still laugh though whenever friends become newly meat-free and start asking me questions about tofu preparation and I’m just like, “Please see Henry, thanks.”

See also:

Don’t Ask Me About Tofu

After we filled up on ice cream, we brought Janna back to our house, where we force-fed her with Korean pop culture and she at one point made the mistake of murmuring, “That guy is really good-looking” to which I practically lunged at her while screaming, “WHO?! SONG MINO?!!? YOU LIKE MINO?!” so then I made her watch a bunch of Winner videos and clips of Mino in various variety shows and then I sent her his Instagram profile and then ran into the kitchen to scream, “JANNA FINALLY HAS A BIAS AND IT’S SONG MINO!” into Henry’s face while he was making kimchi (our house smelled like the ocean all day) he mumbled, “OK, I heard” but I’m sorry, this was a big deal for me!

Overall, a pretty solid weekend. Cook on, mothercheffers!

I originally posted this 4 years ago but it came up today at work and I felt inspired to re-share lest anyone forget that I’m a dick.

I was joking the other day at work about how trouble follows me everywhere I go in that department, and why when I am clearly such a sweet, innocent, demure human being!? And it got me thinking about other jobs I had, where I was a holy terror on purpose and gave no fucks about it, because what was the worst that was going to happen? I was going to quit after three days and my mom would still pay my rent.

Rinse and repeat.

But if I had to pick a place that got the best version of Asshole Erin, it was definitely Echostar.

PICTURE IT: The year was 1998. I had recently lost the only steady job I ever had, as a telemarketer for Olan Mills Portrait Studio—which, coincidentally, is how I met the guy who got me to take the only bus ride of my life, which I mentioned last week. Joey was one of my cold calls (as opposed to those on the coveted and golden PAST CUSTOMER LIST) and after letting me pant my way through the whole portrait package spiel, he laughed and said, “Well, that sounds really great, except I don’t need it because I’m a photographer.” Turns out, he was in Pittsburgh going to the Art Institute for photography, and we REALLY HIT IT OFF over the phone. Like, instant connection. This is how people used to hook up back in the day! Over the phone, on sales calls. Anyway, my supervisor was starting to catch wind that I was no longer trying to make a sale, or at least, not the kind of sale I was being paid to make, so I quickly gave him my number and then we proceeded to stay up all night on the phone when I got home that evening and before I knew it, we were making wedding plans, moving to Montana, and buying a sheepdog. I mean, until I actually met him and then it was “……” But I still got on a bus with him and went to his place on the Southside, because I’m fucking smart.

OK OK, so our Olan Mills telemarketing branch got shut down (thanks, Internet) and my mom was started to put pressure on me to find something else. There was another telemarketing job after that, where I sold a credit card terminal to a tattoo shop and then got a free (and shitty) tattoo out of it, because back then I had A Personality and it was impossible for me to not make friends over the phone. Now I won’t even ANSWER the phone. So by this point, I had myself pigeon-holed to the telemarketing industry. It was apparently the only skill I had attained somehow. That’s a little known fact about dropping out of high school: you’re spilled out into this holding cell while everyone else is running off to college like normal, functioning humans, and you’re given two options: drugs or telemarketing. I had a mild interest in drugs back then, but then my friend Brian got me a job at Olan Mills and totally ruined that plan.

After quitting the credit card terminal place, I applied at Echostar (Dish Network), which had just opened a huge call center in McKeesport and it was like A Really Big Deal for us people who weren’t qualified to do anything much greater than bag groceries. It was so new that the call center wasn’t even finished, so the training classes were being held in this really old joint called the Peoples Building, and it was such a shady area that we had to have security guards escort us from the building to the parking garage every night. (Evening classes, ya’ll.)

What I will always remember the most about this job is that I started on the Monday directly after returning from Philly, where I had attended the Dracula’s Ball with my friend Cinn. I almost didn’t show up for my first class at all because my eyebrow piercing had become so infected from all the glitter I was wearing that evening, plus the fact that the new hoop was shoved in forcefully by some guy who looked like the guy Happy Gilmore shot with a nail gun to the point where I PASSED OUT IN HIS SHOP and woke up on a couch with him standing above me, holding a paper towel saturated with my blood, saying, “Wow, look how much you bled!” So all of these factors led to an eventual infection which caused my eyelid to swell up and I had to walk into this class room with my hair covering one side of my face, looking like I was trying to hide a black eye. But then I was like “Fuck it” and just started flaunting it and that was how I made a bunch of friends in that class on my very first day, by being the youngest person in the class who had a gross piercing story to share as an introduction.

(I ended up going to the emergency room right after class that night, where a doctor had to cut the ring out of my face while a nurse watched on and said, “This is exactly why I told my daughter she’s never getting pierced.”)

At the start of this first class, our trainer Mike had us go around the room and say our name with a descriptive adjective that started with the same letter. I fucking love these things because I’m a nerd, so when it was my turn, I shot out of my seat and cried, “EFFERVESCENT ERIN!” Everyone in the class laughed at  my enthusiasm, and that was basically the start of Mike’s infinite disdain for me.

There were lots of tests and POP QUIZZES.

The class was a month long. We had to learn all about the company, customer service, operating the company’s computer system, and all of the various cable packages they offered. It was kind of like telemarketing and support combined: we had to help customers with issues they might be experiencing with their service while trying to upsale them at the same time. I was kind of torn, because I used TCI for my digital cable and I was obsessed with it. (This was pre-Comcast.) I loved TCI so much that I turned down a pretty nice apartment when I found out that the cable used in that area was ADELPHIA.

P-U.

I sincerely wish I had stayed in touch with these people. They were fucking nuts.

So my heart was never really in this job from the get-go. (I mean, how much of a heart could one really put into this sort of job, anyway?) Class quickly became less of learning and more of an opportunity to hide behind computer terminals while passing notes and giggling with my new friends, Bobbie (a girl), Roniece, and Letecia.

These girls though. They were the only reason I kept coming back to that class, night after night. One time, I arrived in tears because my pet frog Hubert had died that day. They helped me eulogize him on our break, and it was the sweetest thing that I will never forget. THEY WERE MY RIDE OR DIES, obviously, except that no one said that in 1998.

We were totally the bad kids, and very quickly we became A Class Divided: there was us and a handful of the other younger people plus some of the soccer moms (surprisingly) and then there were the Others, made up of the older women and the people who were surprisingly actually there to learn. They would get so fucking irate every time Mike would have to stop class to chastise one of us. It got really bad too, and if us Bad Kids wound up in the same place as some of the Others during our dinner break, they would get so ruffled and tight-lipped, like we had just sleazily oozed over the threshold, flicking our switchblades open and closed, popping our gum, and making cunnilingus Vs with our fingers.

It was like being in college after all! Lol, j/k.

One of the girls in our group got bitched at by Mike because he found out that she was sneaking out onto the fire escape to smoke. So then he had to have the building manager come up and lock the door to the fire escape, which made us scream dramatically about, “BUT WHAT IF THERE IS A FIIIIIIIRRRREEEEE?!” while cracking up behind his back.

There is one moment that stands out the most for me though, and that was the day we were learning how to add notes to customers’ accounts. The company was smart enough to make sure we were on a training server, so all of the customers were Jane and John Does. Trainer Mike was having each one of us take turns going into the fake accounts and adding notes based on the scenarios he read to us, so after the note was “published,” it would show up on everyone’s computer. I quickly realized that if I skipped ahead, I could add fake notes and then everyone else would see them by the time we made it to that particular account.

I quickly alerted my homegirls about this and we all giddily forged ahead and began adding childish notes, the only one I for sure remember was “Our trainer sucks ass.” NOT SAYING THAT WAS MINE.

But it was mine.

Needless to say, when the rest of the class, and Mike, stumbled upon these, there was a major uproar. The people on our side laughed and appreciated the effort of our antics, while the nerdy ones were appalled at our juvenile behavior and began clucking and whatever else old bitches do when they’re mad at the Youth of Today.

Mike was furious. I mean, this was his breaking point. You could practically see his pupils turning into boiling point thermostats, the veins popping out of his forehead like someone REALLY WAIST DEEP in some late night viewing of The Erotic Network, the LARGE FONT letters queuing up in his brain before exploding out into a “I DON’T GET PAID ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKING BULLSHIT” rant.

When Mike eventually regained his composure—kind of—he pounded his fist against his desk and demanded that whomever did this, speak up.

Of course none of us did. And he definitely could narrow down the suspect pool to three. But Bobbie, Roniece and I just hunkered down lower, our faces red from stifled laughter.

Then he started threatening us.

“If no one comes forward, then the whole class will suffer!” he roared, and this made the Other Half of the class pivot in their seats, thrusting their fingers at the three of us, screaming about life’s injustices and their inability to get a good Echostar education thanks to our disruptive behavior and basic tomfoolery. Still, we wouldn’t take the blame.

(This morning, I was actually telling Henry this story, and through tears of laughter I said, “Can you believe those bitches were so upset over that? What losers.” 

“Yeah, imagine being concerned about your job,” Henry dryly replied.)

Mike then told us that the CEO of the company, Charlie Something-Or-Other, was coming to town to deal with this, that the fucking CEO OF THE COMPANY was flying in from COLORADO just to YELL AT OUR WHOLE CLASS.

Like, OK sure, Mike. We all knew he was coming in because the grand opening of the Pittsburgh location was that weekend. But still we were sure surprised the next night when fucking Charlie himself made a guest appearance in our dumb classroom, and proceeded to lecture us about respecting Mike, how he puts a great deal of effort into employing the BEST TRAINERS to provide the rest of us with the knowledge we need to succeed within the company. Mike stood to his right, hands clasped behind his back, looking smugger than a motherfucker grading Echostar tests.

It was fucking surreal. I loved/hated every moment of it. I think we were simultaneously proud that our actions warranted such a dramatic response, but also stunned that we didn’t get fired when we probably should have.

Hilariously, that one lady back there in the pink turtleneck was the wife of some dude who worked at my family’s drywall company, so she would go home and tell him about all the shit-stirring I did, and he in turn would go to work and tell my mom. The phone calls I got from my mom was fantastic. “What are you doing over there?!” she would cry. “Please don’t embarrass me!” But that dude’s wife was actually cool as shit; she was on our side and thought the whole situation was hysterical. When the “Goody-Goodies” started to rally against us, she gave me a big pep talk outside on the sidewalk and told me that they were just angry old women who had no joy in their lives and to not let them get me down. I mean, these broads went full-throttle Mean Girls on us, which was stupid because we weren’t directing any of our antics against them. We were just a bunch of goofy idiots who were bored at studying the various remote controls that came with the satellite dishes. I was nineteen — of course I didn’t take this job seriously!

But you know, looking back on it — wow I was a fucking douche bag.

This was my life for a whole month.

Somehow, we all managed to make it to the end of the month-long training course, but the real victory is that we all PASSED THE TEST. It was time for us to move to the newly-built call center and begin our live training, head-sets and all. But first, we decided amongst ourselves that we should celebrate during our last class.

Even Trainer Mike was on board with having a party, but he was definitely partying for much different reasons.

I volunteered to get a cake, which was no skin off my back because all I had to do was call Mommy and tell her to deal with it.

“What do you want it to say?” she asked.

“I don’t know….;this class sucks’,” I joked. Then we went on to talk about other things, probably me whining about all the things I wanted her to buy me.

The next day, and I remember this vividly because it was a bad day, I had to leave my apartment to go to the mall and pick up the cookie cake. But first, I realized that I forgot my car keys, and how I realized this was that I was unable to open my car door with the CORDLESS PHONE that I left the house with instead of my key chains. And then I couldn’t open the apartment door because my apartment key was on the keychain so I had to call my mom (on the cordless!) to come and open my door with the spare key she had. Even back then, I was a spaz about being late. I have ALWAYS been a spaz about being late.

(Hey 1998 Erin, never change.)

By the time I had my keychain, I was in pedal-to-the-metal mode and floored it to the mall, where I said, “Nah!” when the Original Cookie people asked if I wanted to see the cookie cake before they put it in the bag. Then, several feet away from the stupid Peoples Building, I merged into the right lane and didn’t see that there was a car in my blind spot so then I had to pull over and deal with THAT nonsense.

And so I was late. And in a really shitty mood. Which didn’t get much better when Bobbie lifted the lid of the cookie cake to reveal that it boasted a delicious declaration of This Class Sucks.

“Fucccccck,” I whispered. “I thought my mom knew I was joking!” And then I played back our conversation and realized I never told her what I actually wanted the stupid fucking cake to say.

I was nearly about to cry because everything kept happening! But then I was like, “Fuck it, I’m probably going to quit this job anyway, so who cares.” And it turns out, Mike definitely didn’t care! He came over, swiped off the “cl” with one swift motion of his finger, and then started cracking up.

I guess we kind of made up that day, over pizza and unfortunate cake sentiments. But honestly, I think he was just really fucking giddy about never having to deal with us hooligans again.

I mean, look at how innocent I was! This was also when I was going through a heavy goth phase, in that I spent most of my free time in a goth chatroom, listened to goth music, and had goth Internet friends. I never went full-fledged goth, but LOOK AT HOW PALE I WAS. So I would go to my training class every night and teach all of my new, normal friends things about Dracula’s Ball, Sisters of Mercy, and Darkchat. Their response was always, “Giiiiiiirl.….” paired with the raised eyebrow of skepticism.

I did end up quitting right after we “graduated.” It just wasn’t for me. I saw Bobbie once afterward, when we met at Nigro’s, a lounge down the street from Echostar. And the next summer, I hung out with Roniece and it will forever be known as The Night I Died On The Street In Front of a Strip Club In Braddock; but earlier that evening, Roniece’s grandma saved my friend Keri from possibly dying from a bee sting, so the day was clearly full of second chances. I kept in touch with Leticia the longest out of all of them, and dragged her to the Denis Theater twice to see “white people movies” which she bitched about on the way there and then gushed over the way home. (“Shakespeare In Love” and “American Beauty” lol.) I even visited her a few years later when she had a baby. But eventually, I lost touch with her too. I wish I could remember their last names so I could Facebook-stalk them.

Anyway, the moral to this story is that I am not even close to being a troublemaker at my current job, even though Todd thinks I’m a “bully.” So there.

(I think I actually am kind of a bully though.)

Sorry fiends, but it’s that time of the year when CEO Erin Rachelle comes out of hiding and begins acknowledging her greeting card business. I’ll try to not be too annoying about it, but I AM working on a new set of mini-cards for the 2020 season that I’m pretty stoked about so hopefully I’ll be ready to share those soon! But until then, let’s revisit my best sellers, the mini-sets of serial killer love cards!

Stop looking at my tacky, chipped nail polish for a second and peep these mini serial killer Valentines instead! In the past, I was selling these as six-card perforated sheets, but let’s be real – you guys want more. I get it! So we made them just a TAD smaller and now you can get SIXTEEN of these babies (SIXTEEN!!) in a set for only $8!

I love these cards so much because they bring back fond memories of Valentine parties in elementary school, when we all got to fuck a shoebox with a glue stick and crepe paper and then we all got to run away, stuffing Scooby Doo sentiments into everyone’s “mailbox” even if we didn’t like the person because THE TEACHER SAID. My favorite part was the candy and cupcakes though. I was a fat kid.

And then in fifth grade, I was the fat kid with a perm.

AND BRACES.

FML.

But I somehow still got Valentines so I didn’t hate the damn day.

Even now, as a grown as adult, I like passing out Valentines at work. I passed the serial killer ones out one year to mixed reviews. My one co-worker received an Albert Fish one and sent me an email that said, “OMG I just Wiki’d that guy. He was so terrible! Why would you give me that card?!”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Surprisingly, no one reported me to HR.

Life is all about taking risks, you know?

Each set comes packaged in these adorable little bags. I’m obsessed with them. (Please note: bags vary year to year, depending on what’s available to us! I’m also on the prowl for a more eco-friendly option. Might not be as cute, but either is global warming. So…)

These are perfect for the true crime buffs in your life, and with all new TV shows and Netflix documentaries focused on murder, these are super timely and relevant. I’ve had customers purchase these sets to turn into garland for their mantle, and another customer bought both sets to hide around the house for her husband to randomly stumble across throughout the year. HOW ADORABLE IS THAT. Every day can be Valentine’s Day with these little cards!

This set features some old standbys as well as some brand new designs that I made specifically for this set:

• Harry Powers
• Ed Gein #1
• Gary Ridgway
• Richard Speck
• Charles Manson
• HH Holmes
• Richard Ramirez
• Ken & Barbie Killers
• Lizzie Borden
• Aileen Wuornos (new design!)
• Ed Gein #2
• David Berkowitz (new design!)
• BTK (new design!)
• Zodiac Killer (new design!)
• Jeffrey Dahmer
• Jerry Brudos (new design!)

I should have taken new pictures for this blog post because my current nail job is much neater.

Nope…I just looked at my nails. Not that great.

Aren’t I great at product photography!!?!?!?

I’m so into these little guys. Please purchase some! If you mention that you came from Oh Honestly, Erin, I’ll throw in a surprise freebie! (Not frisbee, which is what I originally typed. That would jack up the shipping fee considerably.)

There’s also a healthy selection of regular Valentine cards over at my Etsy too in case the minis aren’t your cup of (laced) tea. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME. Cook on, mothercheffers!

Hi hello 안녕. I waited a full day before posting about this otherwise it would be all in CAPS and a grammatical garbage dump, even more than usual. 

But let me walk you through a thing here.

Thursday night, I was getting ready for bed and checking twitter like I normally do after my shitty Duolingo Korean lesson, when I saw that this one vlogger I follow, JRE, tweeted that BIGBANG was playing Coachella.

Now, at first I scoff-laughed and figured he was just tweeting his hopes and dreams. But then I was like, “But…what if…” so I went to Coachella’s Instagram…

and…

오

마이

갓.

오 마이 갓오 마이 갓오 마이 갓오 마이 갓오 마이 갓오 마이 갓오 마이 갓!!!!

“HENRY,” I said sternly, standing above him as he lay in bed, which is his absolute favorite thing ever, playing the, “Does she have a knife or not” game.

And then I just fucking started screaming and he was like, “WHATTTT??” and then grabbed his phone. Once he confirmed it was true, he started looking up Coachella tickets (first weekend is already sold out) but I was like, “Look, we’re not going, and it’s ok.”

BIGBANG is my fucking ULT, and while I would love to see them live, I just…don’t want it to be at Coachella. I hate even saying the name of that damn festival.

We went to Coachella in 2004 to see The Cure and it was quite literally the worst music festival I’ve ever gone to, and I don’t want to sully the first time ever seeing BIGBANG by being surrounded with thousands of starfuckers in the weed-scented desert. Not gonna happen. Also, you know the guy behind Coachella is just the absolute, right? Like, Greenpeace has his name on a list and it’s not a Nice List.

But also, this just happens to be the same time we’re planning a spring break vacation so we potentially won’t even be in the country.

Now let me tell you why I’m so excited about this. BIGBANG has been on hiatus since the beginning of 2017, when one-by-one the members entered the military for their mandatory service. Time away could be the kiss of death in the kpop scene, which is notorious for being extremely fast-paced, which groups having multiple “comebacks” a year. And then their youngest member, Seungri, became mired in a “scandal” at the beginning of 2019, and the investigation has delayed his military enlistment. Regardless of whether he has actually done the things he’s been accused of (I believe he didn’t), the Korean media has pretty much smeared his name into the ground enough that he officially “retired” from the industry and was released from his contract.

The last year has been straight terrible for BIGBANG fans, and even with the release of the other 4 from the military at the end of 2019 (T.O.P. was released in July), it really felt like this was it, that they were just done as a group. But then this Coachella announcement came out of nowhere and VIPs are fucking foaming at the mouth right now, me included. BIGBANG IS COMING BACK! And if they’re coming to Coachella, maybe that means they will do a proper US tour (Blackpink did last year) and that we could possibly GET NEW MUSIC?! G-Dragon, save us from this boring fucking music industry!! All the end-of-the-year Korean music stages have been soooo lackluster without BIGBANG.

Even if nothing happened last year with Seungri, he would be in the military right now and wouldn’t be able to perform them anyway, so I really feel like they had always planned to do something as a 4-piece while waiting for him in order to keep relevant. So….I will hold on to the hope that once his investigation is officially over and he completes his military service, he will be able to rejoin BIGBANG and all will be right again.

And for anyone who is like, “But why not BTS?!” Please understand that BIGBANG is on a whole other level. They transcend “kpop.” They are rough, edgy, musical powerhouses who get on a stage and whip it into submission. I put on loops of their live performances when I need cheering up and it never fails to entertain me, no matter how many times I have watched.

They are INSANE and I hope those who do attend Coachella realize how lucky they are to stand before actual Korean gods.

I texted my friend Jiyong yesterday morning and told her.

“Bigbang? OUR BIGBANG?” she responded, and it made me feel important, to have something with her that’s an “our,” lol.

When I met with her today for our weekly “Watch Erin Struggle To Speak Korean” session, we excitedly speculated over what this could mean for BIGBANG’s future. Please lord almighty don’t let this be a one-and-done farewell type scenario.

Also, for the people who are like, “Kpop groups don’t sing,” please acquaint yourselves with the legendary BIGBANG:

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be over here watching BIGBANG Youtube while waving my BIGBANG light stick in Henry’s face. I mean, it’s Saturday night after all.

OMFG BIGBANGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!

It’s a rainy day, I’m working late shift, and a T-ara playlist is blasting behind me on YouTube. Overall, not the worst Friday. Here are 5 things off the top of my head that I feel like memorializing on this damn thing:

1. SPOILED FUCKING BRATS

Last week, Henry ordered some shit on Amazon and Chooch and I were bugging out because he usually only buys greeting card-making supplies (like double-sided tape and envelopes, boring and boringer) and end of the year shit to use up his FSA (like bandaids and thermometers, lame and lamer); but this time, the stuff was for us! Allegedly, one of the things was a case for Chooch’s Switch and nail polish for me! I couldn’t believe it because I had JUST announced that I loved the nail polish I saw an ad for on Instagram and Henry rarely takes note of these purposely-planned outbursts! However, when the packages arrived over the weekend, we were pissed because:

• the Switch case was not the one Chooch showed Henry
• the nail polish was not the cool one I saw on Instagram,  just some rando L’oreal one that I added to the cart years ago because it was one of my favorite shades that I couldn’t find in the store anymore.

So of course, Chooch and I ran our mouths about this because we’re bitch babies and Henry flipped out and ranted about how we’re fucking spoiled brats who don’t deserve anything and I know there are at least two people hate-reading this blog who have set down the voodoo doll long enough to applaud Henry for calling us out but here’s where they’re going to be RILL MAD: Several days later, it was New Years’s Eve and Henry called on his way home from work to say he was going to the store. He asked if we needed anything and Chooch screamed in the background, “Ooh, toy! Tell him to get me a toy!” so I said, “Chooch wants a toy. Get me one, too.”

AND HE DID!

To be fair, they were on sale for 75% off at Rite-Aid, but what a nice surprise! Chooch has played with that damn dinosaur a concerning amount for a 13-year-old, and I haven’t made any bows yet but I’m going to this weekend because then I’ll be a third of the way to competing my exercise costume!

(Literally, as I’m typing this, another fucking Amazon shipment came, this one was A HEATING PAD. Now we have THREE. Henry says it’s because I keep using them as heated blankets and breaking them, haha I would never.)

2. NYE

Did you guys do anything crazy on New Year’s Eve? We just hung at home, indulged Chooch by playing games which is honestly all he wants from us as parents, I swear, I got drunk off two glasses of wine and then made Henry exercise, and then we watched some of the end of the year kpop shows on YouTube. We put regular TV on for the ball drop, but it was anticlimactic as always and a far cry from the time I ran around outside wearing a pig mask, screaming HAPPY OINKIN’ NEW YEAR and causing Henry to lock me out of the house, haha.

3. When the Camellia Blooms

As you know, I primarily watch Korean dramas. I like being able to yell, “WE WERE THERE!” when I recognize scenery, I love the sound of the language and the moments when I’m able to understand without the aid of subtitles (rare, but it does happen!), I love the storylines (there is almost always a serial killer arc that comes out of nowhere even in the midst of the cutest rom coms), but mostly I just the acting/characters. I grow so attached to even the most remote supporting cast, more so than I do with American TV shows where I’m usually willing some of the main cast to die. Anyway, I am here to say that without a doubt, the best one I watched in 2019, IN MY OPINION, was “When the Camellia Blooms.” Holy shit, there are so many quality characters to latch on to with this one and I have been hounding Janna to watch it (JANNA DID YOU START WATCHING IT YET??). It’s on Netflix, guys, no excuses – go watch it! IF YOU CAN READ A BOOK, A MAGAZINE, FACEBOOK, THE BACK OF A CEREAL BOX, then there is no reason why you can’t watch a TV show with subtitles. Just speaking to all the GLENNS out there.

Henry and I watched the final episode last week and I had to hide my face with a pillow because I was crying so hard—that’s not to say that this show is a sob fest! I just get really emotional. Please watch this show. It’s absolutely lovely and I need to add the town where it was filmed to my Korea 2021 trip, haha, knock on wood.

4. I’M A HOOT

I pride myself on the quality of my greeting cards and my customer service (I literally go too far above and beyond, it’s a problem), and whenever I get good reviews, I am so thrilled! Today, I got a really good one that made my EFFING DAY because I am stupidly giddy when I write the descriptions to my products:

THANK YOU, CUSTOMER LAUREN! It’s nice to be appreciated! And this is really the only time I put those writing “skills” to use anymore, so it’s good to know that people are reading it, as I sit here tip-tapping away in my brokedown Internet diary.

(Honestly though, the quality of my cards is really really really good!)

5. COOK ON

You know how people are always like “but ok, go off” on the Internet? Or maybe I just run with a certain e-crowd. Anyway, a few weeks ago, I was reading replies to something on Twitter on the way to work and someone was like “but ok, cook on.” I LATCHED ON TO THIS SO HARD. COOK ON! It sounds so great and it’s still kind of shitty without using swears or whatever which I guess that’s something I’m trying to dial back – my swears. So now I say this ALL THE TIME to Henry and Chooch and they are so tired of it that they literally grumble now and walk away while I’m yelling, “OK COOK ON!” after them. The other night, I said it to super haughtily to Henry and I swear he said “cook off” to me and I couldn’t stop laughing but then it turned out he only said “fuck off” which was way less funny and when I tried to give Chooch a recap of this convo the next morning, he scowled and said, “Yeah I know, I heard you last night. You were like, screaming about it and it wasn’t that funny.” WOW.

Anyway, the other day, out of the blue, I screamed, “OMG MY BLOG SIGN OFF CAN BE ‘COOK ON, MOTHERCHEFFERS!'”

“No,” Chooch said, never looking up from his Switch.

“……………………..” <—-that was Henry’s response when I ran it past him.

Whatever – those assholes are just jealous because I have such a colorful vernacular.

Well, on that note, COOK ON, MOTHERCHEFFERS!!!!

See also: It’s 2020! HAPPY NEW YEAR, FRIENDS! 

A few months ago, I started seeing people post on Twitter about the best/worst things of the decade and I was like holy shit it never even occurred to me that the decade was ending??! And then I started thinking about my own personal decade and 10 years doesn’t seem that long but shit, I am a very different person than I was in 2010. For starters, I went into 2010 unemployed and in the lowest financial rut of my life. I started working at the law firm in April that year but it took years for us to climb out of the hole.

I started the decade mourning the metaphorical loss of a supposed best friend and it took me half of that decade to realize that she wasn’t a friend at all and suddenly, my life went on!

I left Facebook in 2017, which seems like such a minor thing, why would I include it here but look – I had always been SUPER into social media attention. I used to live for blog comments, Facebook likes, adding to the virtual friend collection—come on, I’m a narcissistic Leo.

But I finally matured a little bit and realized that NONE OF THAT MATTERS! Now I write what I want to write, post as much or infrequently as I like, set my phone down for longer than 5 minute increments god forbid…

I realized people were looking at me like I was a character and not an actual person and that’s when it suddenly seemed really appealing to dial it back some.Sometimes I even think about quitting this blog altogether and going back to old school journaling, but….writing with a real life pen on actual paper makes my hand cramp.

Now that I’m off Facebook, I stopped comparing myself to other people who post perfectly curated scenes of their life online, and instead I focus on my own life so that I too can do the things I want to do! There was no visit from Lady Luck here, no cheating the system. Just staying patient and positive, and being careful with spending, and that’s what got us to Korea when, just as recent as the beginning of 2010, we could barely afford to go to, I dunno, the county fair. I wish I had known at the beginning of the decade that I was capable of changing my life. I was chained down by really terrible depression and low esteem, that I really didn’t think my life could ever be “OK.” When people say “it gets better” – it really does, but what’s missing from that sentiment is that it’s probably not going to get better unless you want it to and are willing to put in the hard work. And it is HARD WORK. I really think that I had hit my rock bottom back then, and now that I know what that feels like, I never want to go back, therefore, I will never take anything for granted.

What else?? I still live in the same place but I finally realized that the all-white walls were seriously killing me so now my house looks like Pee Wee could film on location here and if you knew me in high school or when I lived in my first apartment, this makes so much sense because my living spaces were always an explosion of color, lights, toys (I had glow in the dark Slinkies hanging from the ceiling of my first apartment)…it’s just who I have always been and sitting here writing in my blog with blinking lights all around my periphery is just, I don’t know, comforting to me.

Health-wise, I entered the decade weighing around 200 pounds. I didn’t feel unhealthy and my check-ups were always fine, but I felt really uncomfortable in my skin. Finally got off my ass and did something about it (there are no magic pills or shakes that are going to make the pounds off, you gotta move and actually pay attention to your damn diet!) and am entering 2020 in the 130s which is something I never thought I was capable of. Now exercise is a huge part of my daily life and maybe Henry will say I’m borderline obsessed, but I guess that’s just my personality.

OK, now I’m thinking about how I lost all 4 of my original cat crew  over the last decade and I’m starting to get depressed so I’m just going to say that the 2010s had its moments but I’m ready to start a new decade as an Older Person.

So that was my decade in a nutshell, and I won’t miss the first half of it at all. AT ALL.

2019 as a whole was a really nice year for me personally (I mean, politically and globally, we were fucked as ever so nothing new there). My only goal in life is to have as much fun as possible without, I don’t know, losing my job or whatever. I think we managed to cram in a lot of fun into 2019 (for Henry, my version of fun loosely translates into STRESS for him, or PAIN, like driving 13 hours to Silver Dollar City with a half-broken back):

• we traveled to Toronto(x2), Newark and Fairfax, VA for kpop shows (Winner, Red Velvet, Got7, SuperM)
• I FINALLY got to see the Lord Almighty Lee Taemin at one of said kpop shows!
• went to like THIRTEEN different amusement parks!
  • King’s Island
  • Conneaut
  • Waldameer
  • Lotte World
  • Tokyo DisneySea
  • Kennywood
  • Kentucky Kingdom
  • Holidayworld
  • Cedar Point
  • King’s Dominion
  • Lake Compounce
  • Dorney Park
  • Silver Dollar City
    • And Chooch exceeded his goal of 100 coasters!
• I turned 40 in KOREA at a live taping of The Show, a weekly kpop countdown program!
• Visited the DMZ/JSA and stepped over into North Korea
• Went to Tokyo!
• MET G-DRAGON’S DAD!!!
• Chooch turned 13!
• had a fun day with the Hare Krishnas!

And here’s my Top 9 Instagram posts, apparently:

The more I think about it, the more I realize that 2019 can honestly be filed away in the FUCKING FUN drawer. Of course, not every day was great. I still had flip-outs but I think I’m doing OK at managing my moods. (Somewhere Henry is reading this and muttering, “You might want to consider putting in some OT, ‘babe’.”) Having things to look forward to is what helps me get through the work week and combat the Sads. I know it’s not a cure-all, and maybe it’s really not much more than a crutch, but even just having small road trips on the horizon really keeps me giddy.

Not trying to jinx anything, but I think 2020 has the potential to be pretty great and I’m going to make sure I work hard to steer it in that direction! Hopefully kpop will be better this year; 2019 was super traumatic and depressing in that scene. Also, I hope 2020 is a better year for the environment. I’m going to try and make more changes to my own lifestyle as well for the environment’s sake. I keep getting angry at myself because I always forget to bring a damn canvas bag with me when I go to CVS and we have TONS OF CANVAS BAGS so there is literally no excuse. The last time I went to CVS was for a jug of milk and a bottle of Coke for the holiday party we were having and I was like, “NO I DO NOT NEED A BAG” but then I had to carry those damn beverages home and I only live a few blocks away but that shit got heavy after a while!

And if you’ve stuck with this blog til now, thank you! I will try to be less annoying/better at proof-reading in 2020 but I can’t make any promises. My brain is fried and I’m usually blogging from my phone in bed or on the trolley, but I will make some attempts to be more disciplined like I was during the LiveJournal years when I refused to hit “post” until I read the damn thing 17 times and then also made Janna proofread it but no one’s got time for that.

On that note: cook on, mothercheffers.