I know quarantine is starting to lighten up in some places and some of you may be cautiously tiptoeing back out into the wild, but I’m here to share some more YouTube fitness channels that have been giving me life during these dark months just in case you’re like me and staying the fuck at home.

This edition is specifically Black YouTube fitness content creators, which is not going to be difficult for me to curate considering there are quite a few that I rely on to get my heart rate up on the daily!

1. KUKUWA!!

Sometime back in April, I had this urge to search “African dance fitness” because I was looking for something to add to the Kpop cardio rotation. I am INSANELY picky when it comes to dance fitness. I will turn my nose up at most Zumba-like channels, and honestly I dislike most dance cardio channels in general. I think it’s the music choice, mostly. The first channel I found was Kukuwa, and they have been spoiling their subscribers with weekly live 15-minute quickie workouts during quarantine, and they ARE SO MUCH FUN.

Kukuwa is in her 60s and some of the moves she does are full-on back-breakers, and I am like, “Lady, I cannot bend over that far, goddamn.” I love these gals, and Kukuwa’s daughter Cass even has a special 45 minute birthday jam workout which features the traditional African music that you will quickly come to love during these routines, but then she mixes in RUMPSHAKER. God yes. I love this channel. I’m going to buy one of their shirts!

Kukuwa’s gonna have you moving you boomsey in no time, guys. Trust.

(I really like doing these first thing in the morning because I don’t have to put shoes on!)

2. Fit Body By Ashley 

I love Ashley! Whether you’re looking for some authentic Jamaican vibes or a 90s throwback routine, Ashley’s there for you! You’ll just feel like you’re back in high school, trying to nail Patra’s patented Butterfly moves while watching her videos on BET in the privacy of your bedroom, and not doing actual cardio. The expressions she makes will make you want to get off the couch and dance like no one’s watching, right along with her (to be fair though, I make sure Chooch is outside or like, playing Minecraft so that he won’t make fun of me or feel disturbed at the sight of his mom doing the .

This one is EVERYTHING:

This is the one I just did earlier this evening and it was SO FUCKING FUN and I sweat my ugly face off, it was great:

3. Afrifitness

I love Rachael so much! Her voice is so soothing to me, and her workouts are just the right intensity for when I’m looking for something quick to do either my during my work break or while waiting for Chef Henry to make me dinner. And they’re easy to follow so you don’t need to be like a skilled dancer or anything. I recommend this one for days when you might have less energy or brain power and just want a simple circuit-like low-impact cardio workout to combat all the desk-sitting!

Also, last week she had a video titled “Goodbye YouTube” or something and I fucking FLIPPED OUT but then watched it and she admits it was click-bait to get people to watch it because she’s donating the money that video earns from views to the Cece Yara Foundation, which helps create safe lives for at-risk Nigerian children. <3

4. Keaira LaShae!!

I’ve been subscribed to Keaira’s channel for several years now after seeing her on PopSugar and BeFit and then finding her channel from there. Her personality is SO BRIGHT! I can’t do half of the things she does in her workouts because I have literally no rhythm, but I try to twerk along as best as I can. Lately, she’s been doing YouTube live workouts and the best is WHEN HER HUSBAND JOINS IN. Even Henry likes those ones, lol. Her husband gets so distracted watching her and it cracks us up. I mean, you can’t blame him!

5. MrHelioFaria

This guy has a ton of cardio dance videos ranging from Soca to Samba, and they’re pretty accessible even for all the double-left-footed bitches out there like me. I also like that he changes location a lot throughout the videos so it keeps it fresh! The music helps me to pretend like I’m on vacation and not isolated in my crappy house. Sigh.

Do you think you’ll try any of these? Ya gotta let me know if you do! I love sharing my “home gym” favorites and I hope some of them end up being your new favorite cardio go-to! Subscribe and give them some love!

Hello. I’m off today. Here are some updates.

8:00am Breakfast & Book:

Not pictured: me vacuuming up the dirt from the succulent Penelope knocked over while chasing her tail on a windowsill.

9:00am: Exercise Around the World Time!

Kukuwa African Dance Fitness!

Leila Isaac Bellydance Abs!

Give Me Five Thailand Kpop Dance Fitness!

10:00am: Porch Hangs with Wet Hair Kid

“I’m taking pictures of everything I do on my day off.”

“Wow. That’s so cool,” Chooch said dryly.

Then he ditched me for Blake so it became Solo Porch Hangs until the sun started burning my arm so then it became Couch Hangs as I read more of my book.

11:30am: Morning Snack

Half pink grapefruit, longan, dates.

Not pictured: me scouring Chooch’s garbage dump bedroom in search for his swim trunks so he can go swimming over Haley’s dad’s house; also I finished my book.

Also not pictured: Me walking into Drew’s trajectory as she attempted to leap from the stool to the coffee table, resulting in her giving my right calf a nice deep scratch, and then having to clean up a container of cat treats which she knocked off the dining room table. This is a great day off work so far!!

Furry terror.

12:00pm: CATCHING UP ON NEW KPOP VIDEOS, STARTING A NEW BOOK, & SURPRISE VISIT FROM HENRY

https://youtu.be/Is7glC9Jp7Q

Henry sits amidst the cat playground.

Not pictured: Henry is also unable to locate Chooch’s swim trunks.

1:00 POST-SECOND-WORKOUT LUNCH TIME

I was bored and did a kickbox abs workout on Popsugar and now I’m eating a salad which henry had to help me with before leaving to go back to work. I’m relaxing and starting “Patsy,” because I just realized it’s due to be returned in 2 days—ugh library deadlines! Keeping me under pressure!! I love to be stressed.

3:30ish: CHAI LATTE WALK

After spending most of the 2:00 hour researching side dishes around the world for our unAmerican 4th of July celebration (I mean, it’s only gonna be the three of us), I wanted a chai latte and made the mistake of walking to Muddy Cup, where the new-to-me young girl working was not wearing a mask, so that’s cool, and also I forgot that Muddy Cup uses that shitty liquid chai premix that Starbucks uses so it was not great.

You can tell by how light the color is!! Gross.

Oh well, at least I got in some steps. I guess now I will read some more.

4:30ish: IKEA TEXTS

Henry is at IKEA getting shit for the kitchen and I’m outside texting him more things to get while watching this lady spending the last 10 minutes examining my neighbor’s refuse:

She has gone through every drawer three times like she’s looking for a hidden cameo or treasure map.

Oh shit! I just realized what she’s doing. She’s removing all the handles/knobs. Fuck. I wish I had thought to do that.

5:00pm: STILL ON THE PORCH, I AM BORED

But I’m wearing my favorite Cure shirt :)

6:00PM: WAITING BY THE WINDOW

Chooch still hasn’t returned from swimming (in soccer shorts because his swim trunks have mysteriously disappeared without a trace; look for the upcoming made-for-Lifetime movie, is Lifetime even still a TV channel?) and Henry is still “at IKEA” allegedly never mind he just called me and he’s almost home thank god because Drew and I are attention STARVED.

(Penelope has been crashed out in Chooch’s room all day and could give a shit about what the rest of us are doing, so.)

Update! Henry is home with the IKEA stuff and when he was unloading everything into the house, TOURETTES came ambling last and spent a long time looking at this garbage:

Then! He had a conversation with HNC!!

He used to live in the house next to HNC and they are still friendly, I guess. I think I heard HNC call him Dave, who would have thought he has an actual name??!!

6:30PM: IS WHEN WE HAVE DINNER

Henry uses frozen cauliflower as the base for my smoothie bowls and it’s a freaking game changer.

7:00PM: WAITING FOR CHOOCH LIKE…

OMG HE’S HOME:

Also, I know this is shocking but it’s time for more exercise! But more specifically, ITS JILLIAN TIME!

(I’m an exercise addict; there were some I didn’t even account for on here today lol ugh my life is so rich.)

8:00PM: IT’S WIND DOWN TIME

Ok, I’m going to spend the rest of the night watching Booktube and eating fruit, and also getting on Henry’s nerves with my unAmerican 4th of July non-celebration.

Here he is on Amazon looking for a knopfli sieve in preparation for the weekend lol.

(Apparently he just needs a ricer which is funny because someone recently asked me at work if henry used one and I was like THE FUCK IF I KNOW, SON. Guess I have my answer now.)

Hi guys, man, are you all in for a treat tonight or what. (You’re not.) Here’s bunch of religious stuff I keep in the bathroom because somewhere along the way, the theme of my loo became “Holy Shitter.”

I got this at a flea market and Henry was like, “WHAT WILL YOU DO THIS??”

Hang it above the toilet, duh.

The “Pray” mixed media thing is from a local artist, bought at least 15 years ago at the Three Rivers Art Festival. The thing below it is Victorian mourning art that I created one year when I decorate my desk at work like a funeral home, that sexy Jesus was bought during a delicious lunch at Zenith a long time ago, and that crucifix was given to me by the venerable BARB.

My pal Wendy got me this cool wooden art from Mexico. <3

Here you will find my Saint Rita statue guarding some of favorite pins and my CHUU face mask. Also, I dusted that after I took the picture, lol, I’m great at house work.

Chooch’s godfather Brian gave me this when he was moving; it was from his office at whatever church he was working at, who knows. But it must be extra-holy since it came from a church office!

UGH I GOT THIS IN JEONJU, SOUTH KOREA, WHEN CAN I GO BACK??

Janna got me this from her trip to Mexico several years ago. It used to have a mirror in it but then it fell off the wall and broke and I stuck a picture of Chooch in it which gave me double bad luck. (Side note: I love that my friends go to Mexico and bring me back religious things!)

Oh shit, this is my favorite thing in the bathroom (I mean, second only to that cool crack in the wall – this house is old as, well, shit)! When Henry took me to my very first flea market in….2005 I think? I saw this for $2 and knew I had to have it. He was like, “WHAT? NO.” but I bought it and he’s hated it ever since (along with pretty much everything else in this house!).

Erin & Henry Go to the Flea Market: Throwback Thursday

And it only makes sense that I would have a bunch of GODS on my shower curtain, which really pulls the whole room together, if we’re being candid with each other here, and I do believe we are.

So now you know that if you ever need to buy me a present (you never know!!!), I love religious kitsch. Just don’t be offended when it ends up in my bathroom – that’s where the cream of the crop are on display!

Well, on that note, I’m going to go back to staring lovingly at the new plants we bought today.

Hello from Erin’s Day Off! It’s silly how giddy having a day off makes me considering I haven’t been going into the office since March but just knowing that I didn’t have to log on and sit in front of the computer all day (as I’m sitting here on my laptop, lol) made me feel so light! And it’s a beautiful day, weather-wise and also because today Chooch and I kick-started the new Summer Breakfast Club series! Woo hoo! Let’s just start with that, shall we?

1. Summer Breakfast Club

OK, full disclosure, I’m still not about that restaurant life so our work-around was to walk to Orbis Caffe and grab some take-away breakfast and then find somewhere safe and secluded to devour it. I made sure we were masked and had hand sanitizer in my bag, and then we set off this morning for Orbis Caffe in Mt. Lebanon, which always has the nicest people working there but some of the most stuck-up clientele. (See also: Mt. Lebanon.)

Today, Orbis had an extensive selection of quiches to choose from, and Chooch and I both settled on the tomato, chick pea, black bean, something or other. Chooch also got a hefty peanut butter blossom and I got something called a Chocolate Cloud which was like a giant macaron smashed into a Ferrero Rocher, I don’t know how else to explain it, but it was delicious yet very difficult to eat.

Anyway! We managed to make it through the ordering process without being touched or sneezed on and and then we walked to the nearby cemetery to have a little AM picnic with our dead friends. 

It was actually pretty perfect, you guys. We got to support a local business and spend quality time together (mostly, we bickered a little but that’s par for the course when we’re together for more than 4 minutes) in a safe, controlled environment. Go on, call me a pandemicnoid, but I’m trying to do my part to keep the curve down so that I can FUCKING GO TO A GODDAMN AMUSEMENT PARK without wearing a mask or making a reservation, OK? But until then, MASK IT UP, BITCHES. 

Chooch was like, “This isn’t weird at all” because it’s not like we haven’t ever picnic’d in a fucking cemetery before. This was just our first breakfast in the cemetery!

2. Speaking of Quiche….

I have for sure talked about him on here before, but in the summer of 1992, my mom surprised us all by arranging for a foreign exchange student to spend the summer at our house. And when I say “surprised us,” I mean that she literally waited until the night before he was set to arrive to be all, “Oh yeah, by the way, hahahaha” and none of us believed her until she rolled up the next day with Laurent, 15, from France in tow. So, that happened. And my dad was P-to-the-ISSED. And I was annoyed too because I would have liked to have been a part of this decision and also I was annoyed because he immediately liked my friend Christy better than me, god forbid (though I can admit now that I would also like her better than me if I was a boy in 1992, no hard feelings toward Christy!). 

So this one night, my aunt Sharon (bless her) tried to do something nice and offered to order a quiche from god knows where (honestly, where did that quiche even come from!?) and when she brought it over to our house for dinner, we all sat around the table and my dad, in his patented condescending smirk-tone, goes, “Real men don’t eat quiche.”

Silence.

Then I started giggling, because again, I didn’t like Laurent, and this was the ONE SUMMER that saw my dad and I aligned, bonding over our mutual dislike for this dumb French kid, forgetting for 2 months that we were generally mortal enemies. 

OMG my mom was so pissed. And I’m not sure Laurent even knew what my dad meant by this because his English was a little spotty, but it was one of those moments that I will probably retell every time I see/eat/hear about quiche until I eventually take it to the grave. 

Man, what a summer that was. 

3. RIP Joel Schumacher

Man, this one hurt. (See also: should I start all of my sentences with “Man,” from now on?) You all know how much I love The Lost Boys and I had been holding out for YEARS for a real Schumacher-helmed sequel (those weird follow-ups that came out in the 2000s DO.NOT.COUNT). 

Obviously, I’m mega-inspired to watch The Lost Boys in his honor this weekend, but I also want to watch St. Elmo’s Fire, which I FUCKING LOVE and haven’t seen since probably the 90s when I was obsessed with it and made Lisa and Janna watch it once when they slept over my house but THEY FELL ASLEEP.

Also, that movie made me become obsessed with David Foster.

OMFG I am straight sobbing on my living room couch in the middle of a Friday afternoon in an empty house and I need someone to come here right now and hold me (from 6 feet away).

Which also reminds me that I used “Hands Across America” as a lead-in to a training presentation I gave at work last week, as a way to remind everyone that WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER, AS ONE DEPARTMENT, CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG, and it was so well-received that I took a step further by suggesting that once we return to the office, we recreate it, as “Hands Across [Our Department’s Name]” only we’ll just stand 6 feet apart.

Manager Amber was like, “……yeah” and then quickly changed the subject, lol. 

4. WHAT DID YOU SAY? WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?

Man, in my weekend recap the other day, I failed to mention that when we were hanging outside with Haley and the kids Saturday evening Tourette’s lumbered on by and we all collectively held our breaths, because you never know with him.

But he seemed to be in a pleasant-by-his-standards mood and jovially hollered, “WOW LADY, YOU GOT A TOUGH JOB THERE” to Haley and Henry was like, “Maybe thinks we’re all your kids” but then as he walked away, Calvin (who is 3, mind you) started yelling “soccer” because he wanted Chooch to throw a ball to him. 

Tourette’s, now in front of the next house, stopped in his tracks and shouted, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

When no one responded immediately, he yelled with more agitation, “WHAT DID YOU SAY? WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?” 

“He said ‘soccer’,” Haley answered, before Tourette’s decided to come back and what, fight Calvin? Who knows! That guy is a loose cannon! Never forget when he flipped out on Chooch last summer!

5. GTFO MAGA

Update on the gross MAGA house on my street: one of the banners is back :( Imagine being the type of person that lets a flag like this fly freely in front of their trash palace.

Never mind, I started to imagine but I don’t like how it made me feel. 

Speaking of that barf bag, I was so proud of my Kpop fam for the A+ trolling they did on the Trump campaign last weekend, that I was spamming all of my work friends about it on Monday. 

“I read this one headline about kpop stans – was that a typo?” Amber asked me, and I had to then explain in a group email what a stan is and then we even talked about it in our team meeting which then prompted Amber to watch the Eminem “Stan” video and she was, as expected, disturbed, lol. 

“I guess we should have warned you,” Nate said, and Lauren was like, “Yeah, just the audio would have been sufficient.” I really love my co-workers, lol. 

On that note, I think the new Blackpink MV is the perfect way to cap off this segment of Friday 5:

YEAH TRUMP, HOW YOU LIKE THAT.

***

Man, this was a pretty weak Friday Five but it’s also my day off and I want to do something other than sit and type which is what I DO EVERYDAY LEAVE ME ALONE UGH. 

I was just sitting here wistfully perusing the Roadside America website, wondering if things will ever be OK so that I can lasso Henry into driving hours out of the way to see the world’s largest cuckoo clock or some gigantic Mary statue in rural Ohio. My birthday is a little over a month away and I am desperate to find some safe and sterile road trip that we can go, where all of our meals are take out and we do nature things instead of amusement parks and museums.

Or ghost walks :(

SPEAKING OF, when we were in Williamsburg a few years ago, I conned Henry and Chooch into doing JUST THAT and it was kind of dumb but also fun enough that I still think about it from time to time and also, I hated one of the people on the tour so much that I have a framed picture of her on my bedroom wall*

Anyway, please enjoy. Be safe. Wear your masks so that this will go away and I can go and do stuff again, lol.

Love,
A Megalomaniac Leo

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

July 2015

One of the things I really wanted to do while in Williamsburg was go on a ghost tour. I mean, you can only watch Colonial actors perform Colonial acts so many times, if at all. You know? (Actually, aside from walking down the main street in the sweltering heat, looking for ginger cakes, we opted out of the Colonial exhibits. As I mentioned previously, we were given tickets for that shit from our resort, but we exchanged them for Busch Gardens tickets instead, because we ain’t be needin’ no history on this vacashun.)

When I told Henry about the ghost tour, he was like, “……”

And then when I was like, “Well, we’re doing it,” he was like, “………………………………”

And then when I was like, “I paid $4 extra a person for the EXTREME version,” he was like, “Oh for fuck’s sake, Erin.”

We left a little bit early so that we could go to this peanut shop we saw the day before, because Henry and I are what you might call “peanut connoisseurs,” in that we often like to partake in the mastication of groundnuts. For example, right now I’m at work, eating a small cupful of peanuts that I cribbed from another part of the department. (Yes, I’m still a snack stealer.)

Chooch wasn’t feeling it.

Then we visited some some large tourist trap of a shop full of moccasins, souvenirs, and bacon-flavored everything. Basically, an “outpost” stuffed with shit no one really needs. They put a fluorescent vintage VW minivan thing out from and a giant bear to sit on in order to lure people in. It works.

Chooch desperately wanted a pen that looked like a rifle, and of course it was basically glowing in neon letters WILLIAMSBURG! CIVIL WAR! HISTORY! MORE THAN JUST A PEN! It was only $5 or something but Tight Wad Hank was like, “NO” which made Chooch sad, and I have to hand it that kid: he wasn’t being too spoiled so far. Sure, he was asking for everything, but 99% of the time, once we said, he moved on.

Except with this pen. He like, needed this pen. His heart was aching for it. So I gave him money to buy it and then told Henry to go fuck himself, basically. Henry just batted at the air with his blue-collared hand and walked away, leaving me to stand in line at the checkout with Chooch, who was getting really tired of thanking every old woman who stopped to tell him they liked his hair. THEN DYE IT BACK ALREADY!

We came outside just in time to catch the tail end of Henry taking a picture for two broads who were also drawn off the road by the prospect of sitting on some fake bear’s crotch.

“Hyuk, hyuk, you’re welcome!” Henry was saying after he handed the phone back to them. Of course, Chooch saw right through this ruse and knew immediately that Henry probably had programmed his number into the phone and is by now deep in the throes of an affair. And that’s fine, because Henry’s not my type, anyway.

(Please see: must wear fitted flannels and beanies, be known to attend a Thrice or Circa Survive show BY CHOICE, neck/hand tattoos, preferably in a band.)

I bought our idiot tickets online rather than going to the “general store,” wherever the fuck that is, so once we got back down to Colonial Williamsburg, we walked straight to Bruton Parish, which is where the website said we should all plan on meeting. Since we were already there once that day, I felt less like a tourist since I knew right where to go. (It also helped that it was on the main drag.) Gradually, more and more people started popping up and I was getting angry. How were we going to get the full experience with so many motherfuckers who had the same idiotic idea as us (me)?!

A family of four plopped their asses down near us and naturally, the mom started moving her lips in the shape of small talk; why. Why why why why. Go talk  to your own family!  Henry of course was standing further away with his face firmly planted in his phone, so no one bothered him. This broad was even talking to people who were just passing by. Like, lay off lady!

“What makes this ‘extreme’?” Henry eventually broke down and asked.

“I don’t know, it just says it starts at 9:00* and there’s equipment involved,” I verbally shrugged.

*(Good old 9:00PM. SOME SAY it was the runner-up for the Witching Hour.)

Sometime after 9, some broad from the ghost tour office arrived and started collecting tickets and, thank god, dividing the now-sizeable crowd between several guides. Each group ended up having about 15 or so people in it, and we were separated from the Talker, so I was pleased. Except that in exchange, we got a family of 5 that included A BABY IN A STROLLER.

WHO BRINGS OUT THEIR BABY DURING THE (RUNNER-UP FOR THE) WITCHING HOUR?

We got paired with some hyperactive older woman who Chooch pointed out later reminded him of Ellen, and when Henry had the audacity to ask, “Ellen who?” Chooch shouted in disgust, “SERIOUSLY?! Oh my god” because there is only one Ellen in the world and that is the Degeneres one.

I actually don’t think I ever caught the guide’s name, so we’ll just call her Ellen. Thanks, Chooch.

Ellen was mildly humorous (some of the less intelligent people in our group thought she was a fucking riot, though) and asked us to keep an eye out for horse shit on her behalf since she was backpeddling while telling us historical ghost stories. She encouraged us to take pictures with the flash on. Have you ever taken a picture at night with a cell phone? Well, if you haven’t, get stoked, because you’re about to put your eyes on a shit ton of iPhone night photos, and they are real lookers.

Henry, annoyed before it even started because GHOSTS AREN’T REAL, spent nearly the whole tour trailing behind the group, reading the same status updates over and over on his phone (he only has like, 70 Facebook friends) and probably reading things about the Republican Party and pinning mason jar DIYs on Pinterest. This is what he looked like:

I’m going to go ahead and tell you that this is some kind of paranormal activity that my advanced phone camera picked up.

Turns out that the “equipment” included on the EXTREME tour was one (1) EMF meter. (I had to google that.) Ellen gave it to the vocal non-believer of the group, this broad named Donna, who was there with her husband and two bitch-daughters who were wearing t-shirts that said “Got Ghosts? Williamsburg does.” Chooch hated them right off the bat, and I quickly realized that it was because the one was a huge dickhead whiner just like him.

“I NEED SOMETHING TO DRINK,” she spat at her father through gritted teeth pretty early on into the tour. “I AM LIKE DYING OF THIRST.” God, that sounded familiar. I could almost hear that coming out of her mouth in Chooch’s bitch-voice.

And mine.

Quickly, Father! Run to the nearest haunted Williamsburg well and quench your dumb daughters thirst!

Anyway, DONNA got to hold the EMF meter first and surprise, surprise, she was picking all of the activity! Ellen was delighted. The non-believer was attracting all of the ghosts! Oh ho ho, isn’t that always the way it works? All hail, Donna! She encouraged everyone to bombard Donna with photos because this would be a great time to capture orbs. Of course, Donna’s husband took a photo that basically made it look like Donna was a magnet for paranormal activity. Ghosts were coming down from Salem, for Christ’s sake! DONNA THE NON-BELIEVER’S HERE, GUYS! LET’S APPARATE!

Everyone crowded around to see the poster for Paranormal Activity 6: Douchebag in Williamsburg on her husband’s phone. It was early into the tour so I was kind of interested in what was going on, I wasn’t full-on pouting yet, but I couldn’t get close enough to see what had everyone so excited.

I don’t know what this was supposed to be. Tree. Fence.

Ellen told us a handful of, truthfully, very interesting stories, which had us all gathered around like this:

There was this one broad there with her friends, they were probably in their early 20s, and she was fucking scared out of her mind. I mean, nothing was happening. There were no chainsaws. No scare tactics being employed. And with all the taverns in Colonial Williamsburg, we were far from being the only idiots out there that night.

Henry, closing his eyes to better enjoy Ellen’s stories.

Chooch and I agreed that the best story was about the Ludwell-Paradise House. Lucy Ludwell was the daughter of a prominent family, but her ginger cake was missing some very important ingredients, if you know what I mean.

Let me rephrase that for my non-Colonial friends: she was batshit, guys. I was reading about her on some historical Williamsburg website after the fact, and she is adorably referred to as an “eccentric.” This made me laugh, because I have been called that a lot in my life.

She would get all up in ladies’ grills and tell them that she liked their dresses. And then when they would nervously say thanks, she would ask for the dress! Of course, they’d be like, “The fuck?” and quickly retreat. So she would follow them back to their houses and stand out front, watching through the windows, until she saw that the dress in question was now hanging up outside on the clothesline, and she would promptly go into their yard and take it! Oh, Lucy. Nothing is more charming than a rich person stealing from her neighbors.

Of course, her parents would pay people off to save face. And in order to make people like her, Lucy would invite people to her house and promise them carriage rides, because she had this beautiful carriage that she brought from England. But Lucy’s definition of a carriage ride was to have the help pull the carriage back and forth on her back porch.

Eventually, once her parents were dead and no one was left to protect her, she was thrown in the mental institution, which is now the art museum.

Lucy sounds like she fucking fabulous and the whole time Ellen was regaling us with her story, I felt an electric kinship, like she was watching me through a window of her old house, psychically implanting  me with her lunatic chip. #lifegoals

A tree. Fence.

This was the prison, where Donna was attracting so many motherfucking ghosts it was about time to call in an exorcist, for Christ’s sake. Chooch and I exchanged annoyed eyerolls and silently agreed that Donna was a fuckerbitch.

Chooch’s review: “It wasn’t scary at all and eff Donna.”

The highlight of the tour for me was when DONNA LOST HER PHONE OMG! HER PHONE THAT WAS CAPTURING ALL OF THE GHOSTS IN THE HISTORY OF GHOSTS BEING A THING!

“How the hell did she ‘lose her phone’ when it’s never not in her hand?” Henry grumbled. So we had to linger in front of some house that apparently wasn’t haunted at all but it sure as fuck was scary, while Donna and her husband walked back toward the prison to look for it. Mu theory is that she just needed some extra time to orb-ify more photos with whatever ghost hoax app she was using. Get fucked, Donna.

OMG don’t worry though! Donna found her fucking phone.

FINALLY! MY RUDIMENTARY IPHONE LENS FAKED AN ORB! I was so stoked because I did just as Ellen said and took a series of photos in a row and just like that, one of them produced an orb.

“SHOW HER!” Chooch cried, trying to pry my phone from my hands.

“No!” I hissed. “I don’t want these a-holes passing my phone around!” I mean, what if I got a sext during that time? Talk about a ghost hunt foul.

I just asked Henry for a review and he laughed without mirth, shook his head, and said, “No.” I think he’s still trying to not think about all of the peanuts he could have bought with the money I flushed into this ghost event. My favorite thing to do during the tour was whip my head around and make “OMG!!!!” faces of disbelief at Henry as Ellen told us story after story. He was so mad.

Hilariously, the three of us pretty much walked separately from each other the whole time. God, what a team we are.

I wonder if ghosts and Amish people ever get together and talk about how fucking annoying tourists are.

Ellen showed me some photo of a window on her phone and I have no idea what I was supposed to be seeing, so I just said, “Wow. OK.”

Toward the end of the tour, someone else finally got a chance to use the EMF meter and promptly mistook it as her chance to try out new modeling poses she saw on A Beautiful Mess.  Still not as annoying as Donna though.

I wonder, if no one is paying attention to Donna, does she cease to exist? If Donna falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear her, does she take an Instavid of herself to prove that she made a noise?

Finally, the tour was wrapping up and we all headed back to Bruton Parish, where Donna told us some story about lightning striking and leaving ghoul faces on this grave marker:

And then Donna came flying over to show Ellen more of her doctored photos and I didn’t even try to be subtle about the barfing noises I was making. We left without saying thanks or goodbye to Ellen, but that’s OK because only had eyes for DONNA anyway.

DONNA DONNA DONNA DONNA.

And here I was worried that a baby was going to be the douche of the tour, but no. It was a grown-ass woman. Douchey Donna. I hope she took some evil entity home with her to her Douche Headquarters. She must be so proud of herself, being the star of some dumb ghost tour that no one will ever remember. EXCEPT FOR ME BECAUSE I HAVE A STORAGE UNIT FULL OF GRUDGES.

In summation, I enjoyed the historical and ghost stories Ellen told us (I didn’t write about all of them because they’re all taken from books written by some dude name L.B. Taylor so they can be easily accessed if anyone was interested in learning more) and to be honest, once we ventured off the main drag, it did get kind of creepy. But I would not recommend paying extra for the “Extreme” version because that EMF meter was a fucking afterthought. I don’t even think Ellen even really explained to everyone what it was doing, and she honestly seemed to forget that it was in use most of the time.

As soon as we were out of earshot, I was like, “Fuck Donna.” And Chooch and Henry wholeheartedly agreed, so really you could say that this was family bonding experience. It’s not often we’re all in agreement on something.

*what, you thought I was joking about the picture on my wall??

With the inevitable return-to-work date fast approaching, I’ve been trying to get back into that groove where weekends are wonders to be worshiped. Weekends obviously haven’t felt the same of late since we’re always home during the week now and even when it IS the weekend and we might not have to log on for work, there’s nowhere to actually GO. Literally the definition of first world problems, isn’t it?

My new mindset must be working because my Monday Dread has come back to visit on Sunday evenings! THE POWER OF THE HUMAN MIND. 

Anyway, this past weekend sure was…grand? Do people still say that, or are all the people who used to say that dead now? The weather was great and we spent a lot of time outside fucking around with the almost-garden. I added a South Korean flag so now we’re really representin’! I need to get or make a Black Lives Matter sign too  because I’m tired of the rain washing away my good social activism work on the sidewalk.

But then we kept hearing loud bangs and after carefully analyzing the sound in my brain, I asked, “Were those gun shots or firecrackers?”

Chooch said, “Firecrackers. Couldn’t you hear the crackle?”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe that was gun powder.”

Chooch looked at me like I’m a real stoop, and asked, “…do you know how guns work?”

On Saturday, Henry worked some more on our coffee table update, disappeared for a bit, then emerged from the attic with an actual briefcase full of his old cassettes and I was screaming! “JUDAS PRIEST! TED NUGENT!” I called out before flinging the case open, and boy was I not disappointed! I  know I love to make fun of Henry for his pre-Erin tastes, but the fact of the matter is that I went through a very heavy classic rock phase in my later teen years (though I never cared for The Nuge or Judas Priest…or AC/DC….or Motley Crue….or Aerosmith….OK so our tastes didn’t really align very much!) and I get the most amusement out of picturing Henry in the 1980s, in his late teen years into his early 20s, carefully cataloging and curated his latest National Record Mart acquisitions (or were you more of a Camelot and Music Oasis kind of guy, Henry?). I bet he was the one who fixed all of his friends’ broken tapes too.

The night prior to this, I had bid on a lot of Korean cassettes, as well. Unfortunately, they weren’t tapes of actual Korean artists, but imports of Western artists like Pat Benator, Duran Duran, Toto…but I wanted them because the cases are in Hangul and I think it would make a great art piece, somehow. (Something separate from the spice rack!)

When we were in the car going to get pizza on Father’s Day later that weekend, a Ray Parker Jr came on the “oldies” station we were listening to (I know what you’re thinking: “wha—no Kpop??” but I was reading and Kpop is too distracting because I become too busy trying to see how much I can translate in my head, lol) and Henry was so hyped about this because of his cassette briefcase. And then not one but TWO Toto songs came on, one each way, and neither was “Africa”!

Of course I had to text this to my partner-in-.38 Special love, Lisa. 

And a separate text was sent to Alyson, who questioned the absence of Steely Dan, which brought up a good point: did Henry’s ex-wife gain custody of the Steely Dan cassettes in their split, or could it be that Henry just….DOESN’T LIKE STEELY DAN?

I went on a search for him around the house and found him in the bathroom, re-caulking the tub (whatta man!) and asked him with rushed urgency. You know, now that I think about it, he never really gave me an answer so I still do not know if I’m sharing a bed with a non-fan of Steely Dan.

Steely Dan does seem a bit too uppercrust for him though.

Also on Saturday, a total Karen left me mediocre feedback about how she loved the card but the shipping time was unacceptable and I’m like, “OK sorry the USPS took a week* to get a birthday card to you but maybe put that energy into BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

*a week is not unacceptable; and if she would have noted the tracking info, the card was mailed the day after she ordered it (all of our cards are made to order!!) so this 100% should not have affected the feedback she left me, but it doesn’t fall under the criteria for disputing feedback so I have to live with it I guess. CAN’T PLEASE ‘EM ALL.

We hung around outside with Haley and the kids Saturday evening and it was really nice! It’s been a long time since we had neighbors to hang out with. I guess ever since Toya moved? (I miss Toya. She lived on the other side of HNC with her two sons and invited us over for her older son’s graduation party one year and it was the best fucking grad party I ever went to – ART OF NOISE WAS PLAYING AT ONE POINT!?)

Also, our cat Drew is suddenly enamored with the outside but luckily she stays on the porch so that’s great.

Henry lit some citronella candles, which never ever ever saves me from mosquitoes.

One time in high school, Janna was over and I don’t know where the rest of my family was because they hated me and always went out to dinner (MMM MEAT YUM YUM YUM) or away for the weekend without telling Erin the Black Sheep, but I know it was a Friday night AND THE POWER WENT OUT so I was probably running around and screaming like a jackass because I lived on a private road surrounded by forest and I was certain the attic AND THE FOREST was haunted OMG but then we lit a bunch of candles and having light in my life again calmed me down long enough to declare that OMG WE SHOULD MAKE S’MORES or maybe it was just something as simple as roasting marshmallows with none of the extra sandwiching effects. But we did this, and then later on after my mom came home and yelled at us for spilling wax on the carpet (because Janna tripped while carrying a candle, she just recently owned up to it when I was piecing together this memory with her!), I complained that I didn’t feel well and said something about how it was probably from the s’mores and my mom was like, “What were you making s’mores with?” and I said all snottily, “Uh, with the candles?” because ‘le duh’ amirite? And my mom was like, “THOSE ARE CITRONELLA CANDLES, NO WONDER!”

Anyway, this is how I knew to tell Chooch not to roast marshmallows over a scented candle the other night, or should I have? We clearly learn from our experiences!

And to end, here is a cute picture of Chooch and his niece Lily. <3

Any other year, I would have pretended like Henry really wanted to ride roller coasters on Father’s Day and then planned some insane weekend road trip that exhausts everyone involved except for me, but you know, things are cray in 2020 so we had to celebrate our amusement park chaperone with caution.

I suggested that we drive an hour away to Greensburg and grab some takeout from Jioio’s Pizza, which, if you’ve had this pizza, you probably know is totally legendary in Western Pennsylvania.

Henry was fine with that, so that is how we spent Father’s Day! It almost felt like we on a roadtrip, you guys! Being in the car for an hour! Stopping at Sheetz! (Except that only Henry went in, and yes, he wore a mask.)

Jioio’s is still takeout only which is fine because we’re still not ready to eat inside restaurants anyway, so we drove to a local park after Henry procured the piping hot pie…

…Henry got a steak hoagie for himself, though, because “it’s Father’s Day and I’ll do what I want” OK, wow, treat yo’self, Papa H!

YOU GUYS. DEM FUCKING BLACK OLIVES. I am a fucking slut for black olives on pizza, you have no idea unless you know me in real life, then you know. There is this one pizza place downtown which is kind of like Subway in that you choose the base of your pizza and then go down the line of toppings, telling the pizza-artist what you want on it because they shove it in the oven, and I am also like, “pass, pass, pass” all the way down the selection of toppings until we get to the black olives and then I’m like, “More. More. More. DON’T BE CHEAP, KEEP ‘EM COMING. JUST COVER THE WHOLE THING WITH OLIVES. NO, I DON’T WANT TO SEE ANYTHING UNDERNEATH IT, I WANT THE ENTIRE PIZZA BLACK.” No one will go there with me anymore.

Anyway, I never heard of Jioio’s before until one of my former co-workers who I miss every day mentioned it because Greensburg is her hometown, so I was like, “Let me try this pizza then” and to my surprise, as a self-proclaimed hard-to-please pizza princess, I understood immediately why this pizza is so hyped. I have never had crust that tastes like Jioio’s before: it’s slightly sweet, with a flaky pastry-like texture, almost like a legit pie crust. And it doesn’t make me feel like shit after I scarf down three pieces in succession.

(OK, that’s not true, but literally anything that’s not a whole food will make me bloated and uncomfortable because I’m such a chronically clean-eater, but this pizza didn’t make me feel like I was attacked internally by Jack the Ripper like most pizza does.)

It’s been way too long since we had Jioio’s! Maybe like 7 years? And fun fact, I can pronounce most any Korean word you put in front of me, but fuck if I can say “Jioio’s.” It comes out like “joyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoeeeeo” every time and Henry gets so annoyed, yet he always knows exactly what I’m talking about.

I made them do this adorable pose after which Chooch mumbled, “It seems like we’re doing all the things you want to do today” and then he got up and bowed down, calling me Queen Erin, lol.

(See also: Chooch’s Corona Combover; yikes.)

But it was such a nice little pizza picnic in a foreign, sparsely populated park! Sometimes I feel like we’re a solid family, and that was one of those days (until later that afternoon when Henry kept ignoring me and my feelings got hurted.)

I brought the good camera but it was 90 degrees and I didn’t feel like fucking with it so I used my phone to take some Father/Son photos, for which they were oh-so-happy to pose.

I made them walk around the park for a bit so I could digest (I’m big on post-meal digestive walks) and thank god otherwise Henry wouldn’t have had the opportunity to pose in front of this SERVICEMOBILE!

“I WASN’T IN THE ARMY, I WAS IN THE AIR FORCE” is what he was saying when I took this picture, and Chooch was like, “Same thing” which made steam come out of Henry’s ears.

Also, I asked him to jump for his photo and he absolutely refused.

After playing on this really strange playground that had some kind of strange spinny cup which almost made me puke and inspired Chooch to spend the rest of the day Googling commercial playground equipment, I made them sit on these logs and Henry was mumbling about ticks and snakes. Like, just sit on the fucking logs so we can go home, OK?

This is pretty typical – Henry is always trying to point things out which usually results in one of us mocking him or saying, “YEAH I KNOW THAT” or “NO ONE CARES” so I’m not sure why he still tries.

Also, this looks totally posed but it wasn’t. I think he was actually trying to point out where the golf ball he had previously thrown at Chooch had landed.

I might frame this one because it’s the perfect portrayal of their relationship.

Overall, it was a nice Father’s Day afternoon, way nicer than Mother’s Day, probably because I planned it as opposed to those two planning fuck-all for Mother’s Day. I mean, I’m not bitter. It’s not like we go through this every year like groundhog day!

*cries*

Never mind, I just reminded myself that I got to devour Jioio’s Pizza so fast that it burnt my mouth and I gave no fucks, and isn’t that what life is all about? No? That’s not in the Bible, or something?

This morning, I had my Howard Jones t-shirt in my hand, ready to shove an arm through a sleeve, when I decided to wear a tank top instead. Then, 25 minutes later, I was in CVS (YES, I WAS WEARING A MASK, I’M NOT A FUCKING NINNY) and as soon as I walked in, “No One Is To Blame” came on?! I rarely have wardrobe rejects as bad as the one I had this morning. Ugh.

I know, I know: “What does this have to do with the vintage art thing in your house, Erin?”

WELL, LET ME TELL YOU.

After I returned home from CVS, I went on a brief Howard Jones kick on YouTube, and it brought back the fondest memories of the time Janna and I went to see him perform in a freaking cathedral in Cleveland. It was pure bliss! That whole one-day trip was a blast, but one of the best parts was when I took Janna to my favorite CLE vintage shop so we could try on weird hats and whatnot, and I found this…(Mexican? South American? There is nothing on the back of the picture to help me out and I don’t want to wrongly assume and offend anyone!) totally pretty piece of art that is totally my style and it of course came home with me:

It’s right off to the side of the TV, so I see it every day and it makes me so happy! Here is the blog post from the day I bought it! 

***

This was such a crazy throwback weekend: first I saw Mike + the Mechanics on Friday and then Janna and I were in Cleveland on Saturday to see Howard Jones; two childhood dreams come true in one weekend. My unpredictable navigational skills got us there with just enough time to squeeze in a quick lunch, staring at a disgustingly frozen Lake Erie, and, keeping with the theme of Retro Weekend, a necessary and apropos perusal of Flower Child. SPOILER ALERT: this blog post is going to be just about Flower Child. I will drone on as nauseum about all that other stuff later in the week because I love doing things out of order. All the times I’ve been to Clevelend, I never knew this place existed until my friend Jason took us there in 2011 and I bought a glorious light-up/holographic Jesus picture which made Henry grit his teeth.

Just like he probably grit his teeth yesterday when I began texting him pictures of $$$ swag lamps, alerting him to the fact that I had arrived at the place that wants all of my hard-earned monies.

Some of the sexiest Jesuses ever reside in the basement.

I have to touch everything when I’m in there, like I’m inviting midcentury spirits to enter my body through my fingertips and then everyone will be like why is Erin having uncontrollable fits of the Pony? And Janna will be like, “Because she touched some sequined boot and now she has a dead gogo dancer living inside of her, no big deal.”

I don’t think it’s very surprising that my heart belongs to mid-century interior design, considering I was raised in a house with shag carpet and foiled wallpaper. The yellow/burnt orange/brown color palette is instantly comforting to me and brings back memories of every afghan that ever covered the back of a couch in our house when I was a kid.

Luckily for Henry, I didn’t buy any murder weapons disguised as ash trays or 1960s prom dresses, but instead settled for this factory of happy thoughts:

It’s actually made out of paper mâché and the colors are just like SMILE OR I WILL PUNCH YOUR DUMB FACE. When Henry saw it yesterday, he did a slow exhale of relief that it wasn’t an Iron Maiden to go with my Devil rug. And since I’m going out of order here, before Flower Child we stopped int Big Fun, which was having a going out of business sale, so I snagged this Diane Keaton “Clown Paintings” book for $5!

When I posted this on Facebook, one of my friends said, “I feel like, visually, my day is ruined.” So then I posted this collage of some of my other clown memorabilia, because I’m a Little Miss Sweetheart like that:

There’s more Cleveland fun here!

Oh boy, another Friday, another list of 5 worthless things. Well, maybe some of these things will be worthy? But first, a rando photo from the Boulevard: 

I sure hope Jo’s Salon survives COVID-19 because this place and its ever-changing window displays is a true neighborhood institution. (I have never been inside, mostly because I think you have to be an AARP member to receive services.)

1.Henry decided he wanted to get chairs for the front porch (which, as you may know, is barley a porch but there is enough room for two outdoor chair things but we always just sit on the steps and then wonder why our butts and tailbones hurt). This prompted an evening-long Internet search for chairs between Henry and Chooch, who is also very invested in our yard cleanup project after taking one (1) landscape class at the Gifted center last year. At one point, I misheard Henry, and thought he said he was searching for “Clown chairs,” which naturally piqued my interest! But no, he was merely searching for “lawn chairs.” Anyway, this inspired me  to search for clown chairs myself, but the only cool ones I found were actually antiques and cost $500 and up. Um, not for a porch in my hood. So then I started searching “swan chairs” and “porch thrones” and “chairs with feathers” and “flamingo chairs” which yielded no results that impressed me, however, I did accidentally find two flamingo planters which are currently en route to my house. Meanwhile, Henry said fuck it and bought two generic porch chairs from Big Lots which I refuse to sit in because they’re plain. Where is the glitter?! WHERE ARE THE SPARKLES?! Maybe I can make rhinestone tentacles to attach to one of them. WHERE THERE’S A WILL, THERE’S A WAY. Or so I’m told. 

2(a). My workplace has been really impressing me with their commitment to continuing the conversation of race. Last week, they invited the president of the NAACP to speak with us via WebEx and it was AWESOME. I felt so grateful that we had the opportunity to listen to such wise words and real experiences from someone in that position. This past week, the president and CEO of the Thurgood Marshall College Fund spoke with us, but my audio was super wonky so I have to go back and watch the recording of that one at some point. Also, the firm is launching a pro bono initiative for equal justice, focusing on voting rights, criminal justice reform, and equal justice for indigenous people. I signed up as a volunteer because it sounds like an amazing thing to be part of and I really don’t feel like I’m doing enough as it is. Making donations, posting on social media, and making changes to my own self just seem to only go so far and I feel like I need more action, I don’t know. We’ll see what this entails and if I suck at it or not!

2(b). Re: how I’m working on myself. With all the reflection and introspection in these recent weeks, I remembered this time about 10 years ago which really shows that even though I have always considered myself “not a racist,” I was 100% not handling situations properly. I live in a duplex, and at that time, a Black family lived on the other half. I never had any issues with them, and they still to this day were my favorite neighbors BECAUSE I NEVER HEARD THEM. Anyway, in the duplex on the other side of our driveway lives HNC and his wife. His wife has always been SUPER TERRITORIAL of the driveway, it’s legit insane. So it was only a matter of time before my neighbors performed, in her eyes, some ungodly driveway infraction, resulting in a fullblown screaming match IN MY FRONT YARD. HNC’s wife’s daughter was also involved, and as the verbal fisticuffs escalated, well, out came the slurs. I have always been slightly terrified of HNC’s wife because she seems like the type to go all knives out and massacre the whole block. Sounds dramatic, but…. So instead of flying out the front door the moment I heard the n-word being flung about all willy nilly, I waited until later and then went to my next door neighbor, knocked on the door, and told her, while crying, that I overheard the argument and wanted her to know, whether it made a difference or not, that my family and I did not subscribe to those same hateful sentiments and that I was truly sorry that happened, and that I was on her side. But all these years later, knowing what I know now, I WASN’T DOING A VERY CONVINCING JOB TO PROVE THAT I WAS ON HER SIDE. Because I hadn’t done ANYTHING. I let HNC’s wife run her mouth instead of confronting that racism head-on, because THAT is how you fight the good fight. Not waiting until later and telling your Black neighbor that you don’t hate Black people because let’s  be honest, while I wanted to believe I was telling her this to make her feel better, didn’t I also, deep down, do it to make myself feel better too? Yeah, I’ve learned. That won’t happen again. I can’t say I’m an ally otherwise. (I seriously am terrified of that neighbor though, but there was this one time several years ago when I heard her outside erratically accusing Chooch of breaking her sidewalk lights and I was NOT IN THE MOOD so there was a real confrontation that day which she clearly wasn’t expecting and we have never had a problem since then, is all I’m saying.)

This has nothing to do with the photo of a creepy stairwell that I peeped on one of my nightly walks down the boulevard because the door was left open, but I overheard Chooch refer to Henry and me as his “housemates” the other night when he was talking to god only knows who on the phone. 

3. Last weekend (or the weekend before? The calendar in my mind should be in a Dali exhibition), Henry and I drove past a Chili’s, and it occurred to me that I have eaten at a Chili’s so rarely, that I couldn’t think of a single thing that would be on their menu, and then I felt amazed that this is a restaurant chain that has somehow survived all these years while evidently being so basic that I have never once in the last 20 years even CONSIDERED it as a dining option?! And then I started to freak out and wonder how I have forgotten about its existence all these years when I used to always frequent the shopping center that this particular Chili’s franchise lives and realized that I only have one very vague memory of eating there when I was in middle school, with some friends who weren’t close friends and it was actually kind of weird that we were all even together—why were we together?!—and I think we had probably also gone to the movies because there is a theater right there too but I have no idea what I ate and only remember going home and realizing that I left my camera there and my mom had to call the damn place and then drive me there to get it, and I’m certain I must have eventually gotten that roll of film developed because I have always been a memory hoarder, but what photos did it contain!? AND WHERE ARE THEY NOW!? Wow, thanks for the deep dive into my past, Chili’s. (I’m looking at their menu now. Black bean patty substitute option,, “awesome blossoms” sounds familiar, and corn on the cob is a cool side option, but otherwise this is a vegetarian’s nightmare. No thank YOU, Chili’s.)

How great is this Bong Joon-Ho and his Oscars pin I scored from the pin goddess The Idol Collective? If you still haven’t seen Parasite, what are you even doing with your life?!

4(a). I had to give a training presentation at work yesterday and I was nervous about it because it was the first time I was presenting to more than like, 2 people and even though they’re all my work-buds, my nerves do not discriminate. My lead-in was a throwback to when I was pregnant and freaking out as the nine months drew closer. My calculus professor at Pitt (god, she was the best, this older woman named Joanne who once accidentally sprayed Windex in her face when she was trying to wipe down her projector screen) told me, “Just remember: the birth is only one tiny moment out of your life. You can get through it!” So I decided to apply this to yesterday’s training, which my coworker Nate thought was an excellent strategy even though he’s never given birth, but then I admitted to everyone that on the day of my scheduled C-section, I tried to leave the hospital and the nurse was like EXCUSE ME and I was like YEAH I CHANGED MY MIND I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS NOW which is what I tried to do yesterday but it didn’t work – I had to forge ahead with the training session and you know, it was fine. I did fine. There was applause at the end. 

4(b). When I was trying to think of ways to make myself the most calm during the presentation without resorting to shots of soju beforehand (I was afraid I would wind up accidentally drunk and make it all worse), I wondered if I would feel safer having Chooch sit next to me or if I should put him out in the yard. I opted for the latter. 

4(c). What made it worse though was that I had to do this on the tailend of a check-in call that was only supposed to run for an hour but ended up being TWO HOURS AND 20 MINUTES which is unacceptable in everyone’s book, I think. I was so fatigued after that. But! Like my Pitt professor once said 14 years ago, it was only a small moment out of my life and afterward, I was like YEAH LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO, like all this energy and adrenaline came rushing back to me and I had nothing weighing me down anymore!

Sugar Spell did a charity pint sale last week so we scooped (lol) some up because what’s a little weight-gain when it’s for a good cause, and Henry even snatched a sundae kit too, the contents of which I attempted to photograph but then Penelope photo-bombed it and the dire need to shovel vegan ice cream into my gaping maw was too great to prolong any longer, so I never did go back for a better shot:

5. It’s looking like my department will be easing their way back into the office sometime around late July and I am excited only because I have bought some new shirts, jewelry, pins, and phone cases over the last several months and I miss the random compliments I get while walking around town on my lunch break YES I’M A NARCISSIST AND ALSO A LEO. We thrive on compliments. I’m not excited about the trolley though. Or dealing with the new safety procedures that have been implemented. I have had conversations with several work friends though and there are some of us who think this is too soon. I mean, I think restaurants have reopened too soon as well. Because this whole “green light” thing is giving people the misconception that things are back “to normal” and they’re not – we’re still in the middle of a pandemic with no fucking vaccine!? WHY AREN’T PEOPLE WEARING MASKS? I swear to god, these maskless assholes running amok are going to be the first people to go on social media asking people to pray for them after they get COVID-19 but ok have fun at the movies and Olive Garden,  you selfish assholes! IT’S JUST A HOAX, RIGHT? 

UGH. On that note, I’m about to go wake up Henry and tell him I’m ready to be fed. Go do something you enjoy. (Unless it’s illegal, then I don’t condone it!!! ESPECIALLY IF IT INVOLVES ANIMALS! UNLESS YOU’RE STEALING AN ANIMAL FROM AN ABUSE HOUSEHOLD. THEN OK! My mom actually did that twice, to the same person. The most proud I’ve ever been of her.)

Hi guys, here I am, it’s me, Erin. I had a whole list of bullshit I was going to rant about but then I ended having A TIME today and my brain feels like a smoothie bowl (see also: what I had for dinner tonight) and my throat hurts from doing an hour long presentation with an actual human audience as opposed to the cat crowd I’m usually crowing to on the daily.

So we’re gonna relax up on here tonight and listen to some Korean (and one Chinese!) jimmy-jamz! It’s been awhile since I shared my current faves, and I have a handful that have been on constant rotation over here on Pioneer Ave, plus I’m also sharing MY GIRL Hyolyn and the live performance she did recently on a new Korean music competition called Good Girl. God, Hyolyn is full queen.

But first! Here’s the latest Twice, which is my favorite comeback of theirs in a long time. I love their edgier side, and the outfits they’ve been wearing in all of the countdown shows have been amazing! Like Swiss Bohemian, I don’t even know.

Next up, let’s give Kang Daniel some love! He was in the now-defunct group WANNA ONE which I loved so much, but they had a very shelf life. Luckily, he went solo so we still get to hear his pretty voice! And fun fact, he’s dating Jihyo from Twice and I’m here for that!

Ugh, and then we have Demian. This song is several months old but every time it comes on my kpop Spotify playlist in the middle of the night, IT WAKES ME UP BECAUSE IT IS THAT FUCKING GOOD. There’s something about that gives me strong “summer night” vibes.  It has also inspired me to make a spice rack out of old cassette tapes for the kitchen:

I dare you to listen to that and not have it stuck in your head. Ugh.

In non-Korean jams, WayV (the Chinese sub-unit of one of my favorite kpop groups NCT) just had a comeback! You may remember that two of these members are also in the super group SuperM so I always give them lots of love when they have a comeback!

This song (and also the day I had) makes me want to go on an aggro-run through the back alleys of Brookline.

Meanwhile, another WANNA ONE alum is over here making me cry, but what else is new:

I’m glad that I got to see WANNA ONE while they were still together!

And to end, here is the promised Hyolyn video I promised, which I made Henry watch also and was mad that he didn’t cry like I did. God I love her. LOOK AT HER EMOTIVE FACE!! She is a goddess!

Hyolyn used to be in the legendary group Sistar. They disbanded in 2017 and I’m still not over it.

Actually, let’s end this with a super iconic anthem from Sistar, the official summer babes of Korea. God, this song is still so good, lol:

SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE OMG.

I’ll tell you if there’s one upside about COVID19 (there’s not) it’s that our weekends have been especially productive lately. I mean, not having anywhere to go helps, because even though the shit we’ve been getting done is the stuff that’s been on The List for years, we (I) would always choose fun stuff over, you know, yard work.

But this weekend, we made a little retaining wall/fence thingy out of pieces of a broken pallet and I told everyone that I did all the work and I think people actually believed that because quarantine is really doing a thing to our minds, I guess. I did pick out the colors and even spray-painted some of the slats, though!

Chooch is the one who drove them all into the ground…

…but then Henry went around afterward and re-did it all, wow.

Our yard is still whack, but that fence-thing does make me very happy.

I asked Henry is our social justice sidewalk annoys him and he quietly answered, “I wouldn’t have bought you more chalk if it did.” THAT MAYBE WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING HE’S EVER SAID TO ME?

In other project news:

• we’re also currently redoing our coffee table. Years ago, we had turned  it into a phot collage, which was cool but if we’re being honest, there are some people featured on this that I no longer speak to, plus water spilled on it and Henry hadn’t sealed the photos properly so the fiberboard underneath it got all bloated and warped the top. (So, if you’ve ever wondered, “How well did that DIY hold up?” the answer is “not well.” Lol.) We’re mostly keeping the concept the same, changing the colors up just a bit, but the pictures will be strictly from our Korea trips because I can’t imagine ever tiring of looking at those, as opposed to stupid girls who harass me online, lol.
• moderate kitchen makeover
• light up clouds above the steps  because why not
• the Seoul subway project is at a standstill because Henry ordered a roll of plastic for the front of it and USP shipped it back and forth from Georgia to Virginia and back again, numerous times, so that by the time it made it to us in Pittsburgh, it was damaged and Henry had to return it. The odds are really stacked against us for this project.

In other weekend news:

1. we hung out with Blake and Haley Saturday night, for the first time since the pandemic hit us! Granted, we all just chilled outside in the yard and weren’t like, hugging each other or anything, but it was nice to talk to them in person and not via Instagram or through their window.
2. Chooch tagged along on our Sunday cemetery walk because he’s back on that Pokémon Go tip, which is at least getting him out of the house. Anyway, we’re always a walking caravan of dysfunction when we go on family walks together. And then at one point, Chooch found a tombstone he liked and asked us to get one for him!? I was like, “OMG HOPEFULLY WE ARE BOTH DEAD BY THE TIME YOU REQUIRE A TOMBSTONE, THANKS.” God, morbid much.
3. Chooch’s nemesis Larry’s dog almost came into our house on Saturday, so that was cool. She’s a big-ass Doberman and I’m sure my cats would have loved that.
4. we watched LA 92 Sunday night and as previously mentioned in one of my recent book review posts when I wrote about Your House Will Pay (loosely based on the LA riots), the amount of facts I knew about the Rodney King case and aftermath was extremely limited. I mean I know I was in middle school and was probably playing Girl Talk and watching Hey Dude or something, but shit—my parents must not have talked about the news at the dinner table or else I was too busy scowling at my lima beans and pork chops to remember. But yeah, I definitely feel like I just flat out didn’t know it was as fucking devastating as it was. I just remember seeing the Rodney King footage at the time, but HOLY FUCK those riots were some horrifying purge-type shit. It’s been two days since we watched it and I still can’t wipe some of those images out of my mind. I think it’s a very important documentary, ESPECIALLY during this latest bout of civil unrest and racial injustice and inequality, but please heed the viewer discretion at the beginning because there were moments where it was literally like watching a snuff film and I have had unsettling dreams ever since.
5. after regaling Blake & Haley with horror stories from school, Chooch felt compelled to start his own blog, of his own accord! I’m so excited about this but also treading lightly because if I get too smothery/school marmy/pushy about it, or even show too much interest, he’ll quit. Being a mom is so tricky sometimes. But anyway! His blog is fun and I hope he doesn’t lose interest! Go check it out!

Well, I think that’s all that happened this past weekend.

Over the last several years, with the heightened awareness of police brutality, I have stopped on several occasions while on my lunch break walks downtown after witnessing a cop/cops interacting with Black men. (In these cases, they were all men.) Usually there were several other people too who would also stop their roll and provide vigilance, because YOU NEVER FUCKING KNOW. Gotta have your phones out, at the ready, at all times.

But for some reason, I never actually thought this the whole way through. Yeah, I’m standing there, glaring at the cops, getting ready to —- what? What exactly is the protocol in these situations? Am I allowed to run over there and start kicking the cops? (Henry just said NO!) And especially now that the Black Lives Matter movement is running full throttle (good!! I hope it stays that way until CHANGES ARE MADE), I also realized that while I have been seeing a ton of information being shared on ways to help, ways to check to our privilege, ways to donate, etc., I haven’t actually seen anything in any of my social media feeds on what to do if we find ourselves in a bystander position when a racially-charged police situation does escalate.

So I googled it because this seems important to know, right? Like, it could potentially happen to any one of us, where we are now that person who can make or break a case against police brutality. Like, can we actually call the police on the police? That seems…weird?

Of all the articles I read, only one actually said to do this, even though it seems counterproductive (like, aren’t we just doing the cops a solid by inviting more of the bad guys to the party?), but apparently, if they hear the dispatch call, it can get them to back off and check themselves. I dunno, this seems like an unlikely outcome, if you ask me. Maybe get the firemen on the scene!

? COULD WE LIE AND SAY THAT WE’RE HURT AND NEED AN AMBULANCE, INSTEAD?

The general consensus seems to be: RECORD EVERYTHING. We, as American citizens, are within our legal rights to record everything the police do, as long as it’s on public grounds and we stay 6 feet away. They are not allowed to arrest us for recording, demand us to stop, or confiscate our phones without a warrant.

I can’t even begin to imagine how helpless every single witness in every single police brutality case has felt, having to stand on the sidelines, shouting at them to stop, and being unable to interfere further, for risk of being fucking killed as well.

We have got to keep the ACAB mentality and assume the worst when we were out in public and see a Black person being stopped by police.

It’s us against them and if we are going to say that we are allies to our Black friends, then we have to fucking stand up and supervise these altercations until there is some kind of massive law enforcement reformation and cops can maybe one day be trusted to do their jobs like normal fucking decent human beings.

(Personal side note: I have hated cops for 25 years of my life and will stop and glare at them every chance I get. Especially those cop-dicks on motorcycles. I yelled, ‘WOW YOU’RE REAL FUCKING COOL” at one of them a few months ago and felt so good about it for days. BRING IT, PIGS.)

Sources for more detailed info and not my amateur breakdown:

HuffPost

Find Law

Ella Baker Center : this one also gives guidelines on what to do if you’re the one involved with the police, some of which I wasn’t aware.

While I’m busy being angry at America and the world and taking it out on Henry via housework and projects, here are some pictures of Drew because wouldn’t it be nice to be a cat if only for a day?

I mean, the cats have so many toys, our house looks like we must surely have a toddler. My other cats (RIP) rarely played with toys and preferred twist ties and other assorted wrappers, though Marcy did enjoy cat tunnels. Don’t get me wrong, Drew and Penelope will adopt a rogue twist tie or rubber band and give it all their devotion for days upon days until it’s lost or, god forbid, thrown away.

But they fucking love their toy mice and stuff too, which Marcy, Speck, Don, and Willie couldn’t be bothered with.

I found this totally cute pizza bed at Meowingtons.com for the cats. So far, they mostly only give a shit about the plush anchovies and have already dragged one to some hidden locale in the house, never to be seen again since the very first day we got it. Every night, Drew absconds with the remaining two and proceeds to run around crying with one dangling from her maw.

It’s so strange.

I woke up the other morning with one outside our bedroom door, and the other was on the couch with Chooch, who had fallen asleep there the night before.

Little gifts…or threats. Who can be sure.

Penelope, meanwhile, is currently obsessed with this ratty lime green pompom that I *think* might have come in a pack of cat toys, but could also be something left over from a craft project, etc. You never know, but like Drew and the anchovies, Penelope will run around WAILING with this damn thing stuffed in her mouth.

We have evidence that she actually slept in the bed one (1) time, though, as recorded by Chooch who woke up at 4am last week and caught her in the act.

Chooch used one of his Amazon giftcards to buy this milk carton scratch pad which is supposed to be for BOTH CATS, but Drew is ultra territorial and anytime Penelope tries to pose as a missing kid, Drew flexes on her until she comes back out.

Sigh. Cat sisters.

Anyway, playing with the cats has been one of the few bright spots lately.

Side note: I started googling Laddie from Lost Boys after thinking about missing kids on milk cartons and randomly found someone’s vlog on YouTube where they visited some of the Lost Boys filming locations and that seems like a really fun post-pandemic pilgrimage, doesn’t it, Henry? DOESN’T IT? Lol, he can’t hear me over the buzz of the saw he’s currently operating outside as he works on yet another motherfucking project I’ve added to his list.

I guess today was technically Chooch’s last day of school? Obviously, schools had shut down in March due to COVID-19, and for the first several weeks, curriculum was at a stand still for Pittsburgh public schools. But once the online classes started, Chooch zipped right through it and finished early, and he did it all without me hovering (I had my stupid check-in calls and video chats to worry about, OK!?).

It’s hard to believe that he’s finally done with that school though. Look, it was convenient how it was only a few blocks away and he could walk there, and he ended up having some good relationships with some of the teachers (math, mainly) but I had a lot of issues with that place. Loved the principal though! But the gym teachers sucked, the art teacher was a big cunt (there was a new one for his final year though and he liked her!), the guidance counselor was worthless. And don’t even get Chooch started on the lunch ladies!

Hoo boy, he had beef (lol) with them throughout his entire stint at this elementary school.

But now he’s on to (hopefully) greener pastures when he starts Pittsburgh SciTech in August! (Assuming schools will be OK to reopen by then…?) I’m sad that he’s growing up obviously but also really excited to be more involved in his new school (HEY YOU NEVER KNOW, PEOPLE CAN CHANGE!!!) and I know he’s looking forward to being challenged and being around new people.

This afternoon, his favorite teacher (the math one, natch) came by to give him his official graduation certificate thing, a gift bag of treats and gift certificates, and to shove this sign in our yard which Blake excitedly took a selfie with later on. He’s such a proud big brother, I guess, lol.

So yeah, it was a weird way to end the school year, and now he’ll probably be shell-shocked when he has to actually be in a real classroom again. But at least now we’ll be able to officially begin our summer of Breakfast Clubbin’!

(Actually, I might wait a few more weeks because eating in a restaurant again has me skeeved out.)

OMG I’m a mom to high schooler, how did this happpppppppppppen!!!!!!!!!!?????????

Photo cred: Julia Rendleman

This photo has been emblazoned on my brain ever since I first saw it the other day. I really want to buy a print of this and frame it as a reminder of how fucking important and POWERFUL the last few weeks have been. I really hope this is a turning point that sticks; I know change doesn’t happen over night but if this is something that we keep discussing with each other (especially those reluctant to hear it) and make sure to stay motivated and ANGRY until election day, that has got to count for something.

I also saw this on Twitter which sparked so much rage inside me:

You guys know I hate football on principle, but when the whole Take a Knee controversy happened, I was ready to buy a Kaepernick jersey, for real. It’s alarming to me how many people STILL DON’T GET IT. Henry had to listen to me rant about it for about an hour in a cemetery on Sunday but it’s nothing new to him – this has been a hot button topic for me since the day it happened. I remember going to work and yelling, “I THINK I LIKE A FOOTBALL PLAYER NOW” to Glenn and Todd.

To show my solidarity for him, I’ve donated to his foundation, Know Your Rights Camp, and kindly suggest that you also consider donating!

And tomorrow, the president of the NAACP will be speaking to the Law Firm and I am really looking forward to listening to him, learning more, and hopefully walking away with even more ways to help boost the movement ahead.

2020 might be the year of COVID-19 ruining proms and vacations (& you know, killing a staggering amount of people while forcing fragile white Americans to have to OH MY GOD wear a mask), but it’s also the year that racist monuments are toppling, NASCAR’s banning Confederate flags, and police are being defunded. DON’T STOP, 2020! There’s still plenty of time to cram in more historical improvements to this limping country!