[I love how this sounds like a Christopher Pike book. (LOL, I just Googled it and it’s actually an R.L. Stine book!)]

Back in 10th grade, so let’s say 1994 (I honestly googled “what year was I in 10th grade” – that didn’t help), my friend Christy was sleeping over. It was pretty late and we were just getting ready to go to bed when my phone rang. I had my own phone line in high school, to go along with my purple not-because-of-drugs pager, and LOVED to talk on the phone, so getting calls late at night was not unusual.

I have to side-bar here for a minute because I am hilariously the opposite as an adult and rarely ever answer my phone. In fact just the other day, I got a local call and figured it was a robocall or a bill collector tricking me by using my own area code, so I ignored it. Less than 30 seconds later, Chooch texted me and said, “Call back that number, it’s the school nurse.”

MOM OF THE YEAR.

But, on that night in 1994, I actually did answer the phone, because it could have been JUSTIN, my on-again-off-again sometimes-boyfriend who I was fucking obsessed with. It was a guy, not like a creepy dad-age man, it sounded like an older teen, and he was asking for Celeste. I remember without a doubt that it was Celeste, because there was a Celeste in my class and it was just wasn’t a name I heard that often outside of that.

I told him he had the wrong number because, you know, I’m not Celeste.

“Wrong number,” I said to Christy, and then she rolled over and went back to sleep.

But then! A minute later, my phone again.

It was the same guy, but this time, he was calling to talk to ME.  Look, I was 15 at the time, and it was the 90s, the term “Catfish” was a whole decade away from being coined, so yeah, I’m going to tell this stranger my name when he asks.

“Is that that same guy?” Christy asked. “HANG UP!”

But of course, I stayed up and talked to him for probably an hour that night, because I never listened to my friends. Case in point, several years later when Christy told me not to  date this dude she knew from her school because he was crazy and literally set his best friend’s house on fire over a borrowed video game and that my friends is how I ended up in the most emotionally and physically abuse relationship of my life with Psycho Mike! So yeah, preach, Christy!

But back to the wrong number. I learned that night that this guy’s name was Kevin Wilson, he was from a nearby neighborhood called Brentwood, I think he said he was 19 or 20–he was definitely not in high school anymore. So right away, you’re thinking that this is going down some rocky statutory street, right? Well, here’s the weird thing: we became solid phone friends and he never once crossed that line. It always remained platonic, no, “What are you wearing?”s or even any sweetly-veiled manipulations to meet in an empty parking garage at midnight. And this was pre-cell phone, pre-email, pre-text age so he wasn’t sending me dick pics or trying to get me to cyber with him.

I was the one who was always trying to hang out in person. You know, like, let’s go to the mall or Denny’s! I’d get all whiny about it too, probably. But he always had excuses or reasons why he couldn’t and I just went with it because I was dumb. He did throw me a bone once though by dropping pictures of himself off in my mailbox one day, and I was so mad that he did it while I was at school! But oh my god, you guys, he was so cute! Like, classic young American boy who probably played football in high school and can drink three chocolate milkshakes a day and not get fat. I can remember taking the pictures to school and showing everyone at my table during lunch and girls were PISSED that this guy was calling ME. I mean, I wasn’t the worst-looking girl, but I had braces and was going through a pretty heavy Yo-Girl phase where I lined my lips with brown liner and practically swam in my clothes, so….

He was almost like a big brother to me, giving me advice, checking up on me, making sure I was doing OK. I don’t think we talked every day, but probably weekly. And it was really good for me  too, because that aforementioned sometimes-boyfriend Justin was always giving me the run-around and was hardly available, so having someone else to talk to really filled a void. Plus, he would say brotherly things like, “DO I NEED TO KICK THIS GUY’S ASS” and “YOU ARE TOO GOOD FOR THIS JUSTIN KID” and even though I didn’t believe it at the time, he was so right but of course I didn’t listen to him and I’d go right back to writing ERIN <3’Z JUSTIN all over my Composition books.

So, I know what you’re thinking: Wow, Erin, you’re 15, talking to some older stranger on the phone who KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE and COMES TO YOUR HOUSE WHEN YOU’RE NOT HOME, do your parents even know the shit you do!? How did you live to see your 30s?!

Well, let me tell you something: my mom not only knew I was talking to this boy-guy, but SHE MET HIM! I had left him pictures of me in our mailbox and when he came to get them, she happened to be coming home or leaving at the same time, and they got to meet! I was so devastated that my mom met him first!

BUT IT GETS WORSE! She freaking gave him a job at our family’s drywall company! So now she got to see him everyday! She’d come home from work and tell me things, like, “Kevin is so cute! Kevin is such a boy!” and I would just be like, “GOD WHY DON’T YOU JUST DATE HIM THEN.”

I don’t remember how long we were in contact, maybe around a year, but then he ended up moving away to Virginia Beach, I think. And we lost touch after that, having never met in real life, not once.

Something made me think of this last Friday and after spending the last week racking my brain and texting friends for more information, but no one remembers this. Janna said she doesn’t remember, and Christy said she vaguely remembers but that I was always friends and penpals with “so many prisoners, etc. so they all blur together” and then went on  to ask me if I remember my pen pal Alisha who was obsessed with the movie “Newsies” and I was like, “Of course I remember her, she was my best penpal friend!” but when I found her on Facebook a few years ago, she DID NOT ACCEPT MY FRIEND REQUEST.

Janna was like, “Can’t you just check your old journals?” Look, 10th grade was a very traumatic year for me and I’m not trying to revisit that by reading my own emotionally-damaged words, thanks Janna.

The one person who would probably remember is some broad who I haven’t talked to since Chooch was born because she chose free beer over our friendship. (LONG STORY.)

Then I texted my mom and asked her if she remembered him and her immediate response was “LOL are you serious!?!?!?”

Now, knowing  my mom like I know my mom, I read this in the most paranoid way as possible and my suspicions immediately peaked. To me, that meant, “All these years later and you still haven’t figured it out?” So my conclusions catapulted straight to, “HOLY SHIT MY MOM HAD ME CATFISHED.”

She hasn’t admitted to anything and probably never will BUT THIS IS MY THEORY:

She hated Justin SO BAD that she had this guy “accidentally” call me and then become phone-friends with me as a DISTRACTION. Probably he was already someone who worked for her, maybe!? And those pictures that he “dropped off” could have been of ANYONE. I mean, my mom often threatened to send me to an all-school because of the serious problems Justin was causing me, and I wasn’t even allowed to get my driver’s license until I was 18 and living on my own because she didn’t want me to driving to see him when I was still in high school which is hilarious because by then I was dating an even worse guy. (See: Psycho Mike.)

But then, the more I thought about it that night, and the more Henry had to sit there and listen to my delusional rantings, I came up with a second possibility that’s EVEN WEIRDER but still HIGHLY PROBABLE.

OK, bear with me.

When I was 19, my mom dropped the HALF-SIBLING bomb on me. She told me that my birth dad had a kid with the lady he was with prior to my mom, and that I have an older half-brother. Apparently, my mom and his mom stayed amicable after my dad died when I was super young, and my brother knew I existed but I had no idea about any of this. I agreed to meet him and was a little shocked to know that he had basically kept up with me my whole life through my mom. She would tell his mom things like when I would be at Spinning Wheels, so then his mom would take him there so he could see me. So yes, my mom basically let my half-brother stalk me in the 80s. Seems weird now that I see it in print!

And he would sometimes visit my mom at her office. But my mom was so afraid to bring him into my life because she thought I’d flip out, which is actually a legitimate concern because I was highly unstable back then.

(Lol, “back then.”)

But my brother wanted to have contact with me so what if that was my mom’s solution!? WHAT IF HE WAS THE ONE I WAS TALKING TO. It would explain why the calls were so sterile and textbook platonic, why he could never hang out, why my mom didn’t flip her shit when she found out that I was talking to some older guy on the phone who was also coming to my house and leaving photos in the mailbox.

IS THIS CRAZY? AM I BEING NUTS HERE?!

It feels so plausible in my head! This feels like Classic Val!

I was telling this whole thing to Glenn yesterday at work and he was like, “Or….it really was some old man…”

OMG WHAT IF IT WAS HENRY!? Maybe that was his release back then – he’d sneak away from his kids, hide in the garage with a case of beer and start cold-calling girls. Ew, he would have been 30 then! Our age difference is so much creepier when we take it back to the way-past.

I just asked him right now, while he’s washing dishes, if it was him. “What year was it?” he asked. “Nope, wasn’t me,” he mumbled over the clinking of soapy silverware. But he had to ask, though!

That’s my story about the supposed Kevin Wilson. Maybe someday I will have a solid conclusion to this. Next time I see my mom, I’m going to start talking about it again and gauge her facial tics.

I needed a recent non-iPhone picture of Chooch so we had a super-quick photoshoot yesterday before dinner, and Chooch was less-than-thrilled but he did go along with it without too much fuss and didn’t even hold out his hand for payment like he normally does these days.

Right before we went to go outside though, HNC had just parked across the street so I told Chooch I wanted to wait for him to go in his house because I’m more paranoid and twitchy than a tweaker under a Seattle bridge in 1991. It took him so long to cross the street, I couldn’t even believe it. Every time I looked out the window, he was STILL in the street so then I wondered if he was playing Frogger, maybe that’s what he does to blow off some steam after a day of doing whatever it is HNC does.

Finally, Chooch looked out and said he wasn’t there anymore, so I flounced out of the house like a weirdo with my camera, but HNC WAS STILL ON HIS PORCH, UNLOCKING HIS DOOR. And then Chooch came out of the house so HNC was all, “WHOA! YOU LOOK LIKE SNAZZY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”

And Chooch just got all nervous and mute, so I said, “Oh, we’re just doing a photo shoot.”

“Oh! Where?” he asked, probably giving us way too much credit and thinking we were going to…Olan Mills, lololol.

“Um, behind the house,”  shrugged and he was just like, “Oh…ok. Have fun!”

But then I did that thing that I do where I’m trying to act like we’re not doing anything weird (and we actually weren’t!!!!) by continuing to spit out superfluous small talk.

“Thanks! Yeah, I need some 13-year-old pictures of him,” I over-explained, and then after HNC said he understood, I tacked on, “Plus, I like to abuse him” and nervously laughed.

“Nothing wrong with that!” HNC laughed, and we walked away.

“Why did you say that?” Chooch hissed. “Now he’s going in his house and calling CPS!”

LOL.

But really, hopefully he didn’t.

So last week, Chooch had to give a presentation on the project he did for Black History Month. His subject was James Beckworth and after two months of hearing about this guy and going to the main Carnegie library to look for books on this obscure guy, all I can  tell you is that he climbed mountains.

I don’t even know when he was alive.

Anyway, his Communications teacher is real uptight when it comes to things like this, which I actually appreciate because he is going to be so prepared for high school reports, etc., and she makes these things super formal. So even though the presentations only last 5-10 minutes, she expects every kid to dress up for it. Usually, Chooch waits until the last minute to drop this on me, but this time he gave me three whole days notice only because he wanted me to buy him a lavender suit!?

Trust me, I love the idea of a lavender suit. So many styling options! Such photo ops! But I wasn’t buying him a lavender suit for a five-minute presentation.

Perhaps for his first dance or…mock trial?

So my response to that was BOY YOU WILL WEAR SOMETHING YOU ALREADY HAVE IN YOUR CLOSET and then I remembered this red blazer that I bought back during my shortlived I AM GOING TO BE AN AVANT GARDE FASHION DESIGNER phase but that quickly ended once Henry was like, “No, I am not buying you a sewing machine because you’ll never use it and then I’ll get stuck finishing your projects.”

….so?

Doesn’t this red blazer look fabulous with his watermelon shirt?! Even he agreed that it was the next best thing to a lavender suit, so we didn’t have to go through our usual head-butting routine. This is what he wore for his presentation and we all lived happily ever after.

KOREAN LESSON TIME: The word for watermelon in Korean is SUBAK.

EXTRA CREDIT: The word for pumpkin in Korean is HOBAK which sounds like ho-bag which makes me think of high school because ho-bag was the cordial “hey bitch” greeting of the 1990s.

He said his teacher’s reaction to his outfit was, “….THIS CHILD.”

Lol.

I can hear her saying that too. She is super sassy and has super-threatening acrylics. Chooch is always like “UGH Ms. SMITH” like everyday but I think he secretly likes her and she definitely likes him because she pushes him extra hard and he is obsessed with getting the best grades in her class.

In other Chooch news, this happened on Saturday:

They’re actually going to have tteokbokki for him this month! I’m not sure if I ever said it on here before, but that Teen Center (it’s actually called the Teen Outreach) is amazing and our neighborhood is so lucky to have it. They offer all kinds of extra-curricular activities like cooking classes, yoga, improv (which Chooch just signed up for) and he also gets paid to attend these weekly “Manhood” classes where he is being taught all the important things (re: PUBERTY, sex, etc.)  that Henry hasn’t talked to him about, and also things like HERE IS HOW TO RESPECT WOMEN, which we do talk about but how many boys don’t know these things!? A ton. And this awesome group is doing their part in preventing future date rapes / domestic violence / sexual harassment.

And yes, I did notice that there is something similar offered for girls, as well.

They even have field trips! He went geocaching last week and learned about aqua pods or something equally as boring, I can’t remember. And they go on hikes during the summer so they’re not actually all sitting around on dirty couches playing video games like I originally thought.

Man, I can’t believe I used to make fun of this place and get annoyed that he spends so much time there.

Anyway, that concludes my obligatory Chooch update.

Drew & Me on Saturday, a folk song.

Whenever I have Friday late shifts, even though I get to work from home, my weekend automatically feels cut in half. I mean, I’m only working until 8:30 but it takes a toll. So any weekend that follows a Friday late shift is almost doomed from the start.

I AM SO POSITIVE.

Nothing much happened over the weekend. I didn’t make any plans, had nowhere to go, IT RAINED AND SNOWED ON SUNDAY, and I was in a bad mood because of that.

However, there were two highlights and here they are:

1. TAEMIN WENT BACK TO BLACK HAIR YOU GUYS. Black hair Taemin is the best Taemin.

2. The Cure FINALLY got inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and that alone would be enough to count as one of my weekend highlights, but then Robert Smith had to go and ONE-UP the actual honor by giving this perfectly glib interview, the first ten seconds of which went viral but the whole fucking interview is worth your time, believe me. He is perfection. Where the fuck did they dig up that interviewer?? The face Robert makes when she says she’s been a fan since birth is me every twenty minutes at work and every 5 minutes at home when Henry is talking.

This band has been my #1 since childhood, Robert will always be my ult bias, and my walls will always be dotted with Robert’s face. But the fact that past members were also there, LIKE LOL TOLHURST!!, really made my heart swell and I was crying on the couch next to Chooch who said nothing because he expects this from his emo mom. Obviously Robert’s stance on getting inducted was more of a blase, ambivalent, who really gives a fuck attitude, but I appreciated that Lol thoughtfully said that he was happy for the fans, that the fans must have felt vindicated.

YES, YES WE DO, LOL.

The last time they were nominated, they didn’t get in and I wanted to burn garbage, that’s how pissed I was. And when they were nominated for a Grammy in 2000 and lost, I wanted to flip desks while school children were sitting at them.

It is a travesty, A MOTHERFUCKING TRAVESTY, that there are still people I encounter who have….never heard of The Cure. Or even worse – confuse them with [x] 80s band.

For instance, when Todd was like, “Yeah I know the Cure” and started humming a song.

“THAT’S NOT THE CURE, TODD! THAT’S A-HA!” I cried.

UGH!!

It breaks my dumb black heart.

I wouldn’t fly to Australia alone for any old band, people. Remember that.

So, that was my weekend. NOTHING MUCH TO SEE HERE. Things will get more peppy in the next couple of weeks though, prob.

You’re dismissed.

(I guess I could have saved this for tomorrow and titled it SUNDAY SUNBAES since I’m an asshole for alliteration.)

Hi guys! Korean lesson time: Sunbae means “senior” in any particular industry or school. I’m always posting comeback and debut videos on here so today I’m sharing some live performances of sunbae groups (1st & 2nd generation) because this is really such a golden era, when Girl’s Generation had 9 members and YG Entertainment wasn’t a sinking ship, and I really wish I could have experienced it in real-time but this was back when I was beginning my post-hardcore awakening, lol.

1. 2NE1: This girl group could pretty much eat all current girl groups for breakfast. It pains me to my core that I never got to see them live. Here’s hoping we get a post-YG reunion.

2. TVXQ: I got into Kpop waaaay after their peak but I quickly learned of their legendary status. They’re still active but only have two members now.

3. Shinhwa: I’m honestly surprised that there isn’t more talk of these guys.

4. F(x): Can SM please give these ladies a comeback?

5. Super Junior: I’d be remiss if I left this legendary crew off the list:

6. SHINee: You knew they’d be on here! This was their debut, so strong! It’s no surprise they went on to be one of the most iconic Kpop groups.

7. KARA: one of my favorite Kpop cardio routines is for this song so it will always feel nostalgic to me! That hip dance is famous in the Kpop world and boy groups are always jokingly mimicking it.

8. SNSD (Girl’s Generation): I think if you really pressed Henry he would admit that this is his favorite girl group. I think there are only 5 of them left now :( One of them left and came back to America and is currently making a name for herself here as a solo artist so that’s awesome!

9. Miss A: Henry’s ult bias Bae Suzy was in this group! In all seriousness though I wish they were still together. The girl groups were such fire between 2010-2015. :/

10. BIGBANG: Sorry but I had to. I know there’s so much controversy and strong opinions surrounding them lately with Seungri’s scandal (I have not been able to bring myself to even talk about this on here yet but Henry will confirm that I chew his ear off and cry about it on the daily) but these 5 are my kings and their evolution and raw talent is what actually paved the way for the third generation.

I think it’s worth noting the parallels between 2007 BIGBANG and the post-hardcore bands I was into around that time. Literally Pierce the Veil had the same hairstyles and very similar fashion back then!

It’s really looking like I will never get to experience OT5 live, but I won’t stop hoping.

*****

So there you have it, some of my faves from older generations. These groups paved the way for BTS, Blackpink, etc. and they deserve respect and attention.

Let me know if you liked any of these!

Today’s Friday Five is going to be MEMORIES. Ooh-wee, more insight into my past! Thank god I have such a steel trap up there in my head.

DIRTY JOKES

So this morning, out of nowhere, I had a flashback to my, shit, 7th? 8th birthday? I guess my memory isn’t that great. I didn’t have a party that year because we had just moved into our new house, maybe? And my mom was probably stressed from the move? I know it was that year because our yard didn’t have grass yet and remnants of the construction were still laying around. God, this is so interesting already. OK, I think Christy was probably there, but I remember Spring and Audra for FOR SURE were there because Audra got me some kind of kids soap set or something and MY DAD snickered, “HONEY DID  YOU TELL HER THAT YOU DON’T USE SOAP?” thinking he was SO FUNNY but I was fucking  mortified! I was like, “I DO SO USE SOAP!?” And you know the worst part? THERE IS A VIDEO OF THIS! It’s on a VHS tape somewhere and every so often over the years, it’d get plucked from the pile of HOME VIDEOS and shoved in the VCR to see what was on it, and every single time that scene cued up, my face burned all over again because it was so excruciating to watch, both the shitty Dad Joke and my subsequent reaction. JUST TYPING THIS has me feeling some type of way, and it’s the good.

Maybe Christy wasn’t there after all because I feel like this would be something she’d reference occasionally.

The only good thing about that incident is that I also got a WATCHIMAL and those things were so cool. DID YOU HAVE ONE?

Anyway, I do use soap.

(But I’m really picky and it can only be Dove, Olay, or Caress. Any scent is fine though. I hate soap like Irish Spring and Dial or any other basic soap that Henry buys for himself and Chooch because it makes my skin feel squeaky and I’m sorry, but I’m fine with being quietly clean, I don’t need to be squeaky clean. UGH I JUST GOT CHILLS.)

Scenic Precincts

This one time, for summer vacation, my grandparents and Aunt Sharon took me to Italy and Sicily which was really fun except that we were in Palermo during the time that some mob thing was happening where CARS WERE BEING BLOWN UP BY PIPE BOMBS and like, judges and cops were being targeted? All I know is that I was like 10 and had no fucking idea what any of this meant but everyone on our tour was talking about it and my Pappap made some joke about how we would be fine as long as we didn’t go near any precincts. I asked him what a precinct was and for some reason, when he explained it to me, I still didn’t understand but pretended that I did and then forgot about it until years later when I was watching something and someone mentioned going back to the precinct and it suddenly clicked and then, like 8 years later, my Pappa’s joke made sense to me.

WHY DIDN’T I UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANT, THOUGH?? I swear, I was a smart kid. But I guess smart kids can be dense too, I type as I look at my kid over my shoulder.

This memory brings up a related memory of the time I lived in South Park and was watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure in my living room with the aforementioned Christy and when Micky said whatever he said about just enjoying the scenery, I asked Christy what scenery meant and I’m sure she explained it to super well because she was (is) a genius, but shit that was too abstract of a term for me to understand, I guess.

(I know what it means now though, don’t worry.)

Oh wait, here: I remembered that I could use that Google thing and I found the Palermo bombing stuff! It happened in July 1992 so I was 12, I guess.

The Sun Roof Incident

#3 is a throwback to one of my favorite memories that I already wrote about once a long time ago but am resharing the link because I have been thinking about my Pappap more than usual lately – no I don’t miss my Pappap, YOU miss my Pappap! *sniff*

So yeah: The Sun Roof Incident

Accidental Greaser

One morning in second grade, I was getting ready for school when I noticed that I had dry patch on my chest, like a mild rash or something, who even knows, if that happened today I would probably have 97 tabs open on my computer, each one highlighting a different terminal disease. In all of my quick-thinking glory, I scooped a glopping heap of Vaseline from the jar and transported it my hand-hook petroleum jelly vehicle straight to my chest. Satisfied I’m sure that I handled this on my own, I then proceeded to take a shower, not knowing that my hand-hook petroleum jelly vehicle was now commuting that greasy paste straight atop my pate.

Oh don’t worry, I figured it out as soon as I started to blowdry my hair and then I screamed for my mom and she was like WHAT DID YOU DO OMGGGG and at this point I was having what might have actually been my first panic attack and even then, in like 1986 or whatever, I was so worried about going to school and getting made fun of for having greasy hair, so my mom let me stay home.

I guess it was ok the next day?!

Strange Maybe-Candies 

A few weeks ago, I was wearing blue pastel pants and a pink blouse. Carrie said I looked very spring-like, and then HOURS later, Wendy came over and said the same thing and Carrie and I were like, “Nice try, Wendy, but you’re a little late.” (This has nothing to do with the story but I can’t even pass up an opportunity to drag Wendy.) Then I was eating Reese’s easter eggs and realized that even the candy matched my outfit so I took a picture because we live in the age of Everything’s a Photo-Op.

But then this whole pastel passage conjured another old AF memory! WANNA HEAR IT, OK!

The year was probably 1985 but if this post has taught us anything it’s that I don’t know dates.

My brother Ryan had just recently been brought into the world to ruin my life, so I was just a little ball of raging fury in those days.

One particular afternoon, Ryan was being showered with an exceptional amount of attention. I couldn’t take it any longer so I stormed off to my bedroom. When you’re young and pissed off, what’s the first thing you turn to (before you discover drugs or hardcore gangsta rap)? For me, it was destruction. But if I wasn’t feeling in the mood to desecrate Ryan’s nursery, I would choose the next best thing – defiance.

We had a guest room that was really just a holding cell for family heirlooms and other assorted antiques that my mom had acquired when her aunt had died. I was never actually told not to go in there, but it was more or less implied; the air of the room screamed Do Not Disturb. Not to mention it scared the shit out of me and reeked of old person.

Knowing that I shouldn’t have been in that room was the one thing that was drawing me to it. At first, I sat on the immaculate white knit bedspread. Quickly becoming bored with putting butt prints in the smooth covers, I moved on to explore the dresser and desk drawers. It was in the desk where I unearthed peculiar pink and green wads of foreign substance. Each drawer contained various pieces of it and the shapes were random and inconsistent. Some were rolled into little logs, while others were mashed into the wood.

I pulled a chunk off from the bottom of the drawer and detected a taffy-like texture. Looked like candy, felt like candy, probably didn’t smell like candy but never mind — MUST BE CANDY!

And so I ate it. It didn’t taste like much, but I figured that was because it was really old, expensive antique candy. Clearly, I was having my own Lewis Carroll experience. I went to bed that night gloating and feeling smugly indulgent. Can’t remember dates, but I remember THAT.

From that day on, whenever I would get shafted by the parents, I’d run to my magic candy. It was something that was all mine and Ryan could never have it (I mean, he really couldn’t have it – he was barely crawling at this point). This went on for a few months, maybe a year, until I moved on to bigger and better things. Like pyromancy and staging my own kidnapping.

I remembered this out of the blue one time, about 20 years later. Surely it would be an OK time to tell my mom. I was hoping she would be really hurt. “Oh honestly! That candy had been in the family for trillions of years and it was so special to me and now I’m crying.”

But what really happened was this:

After telling her the sordid tale, I smugly spat, “Yep, that was me. Eating your cherished heirloom candy that Aunt Cill brought back from the motherland.”
Mom: “That wasn’t candy, you asshole. That was sticky tack.”

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

Guys, while I was blowing fuses in my brain thinking of old shit to write in here tonight, I actually thought of another memory that has since evolved into WHAT MIGHT BE A TALE OF DECEPTION AND BETRAYAL so I will save that for its own post sometime this weekend because now I’m really freaked out. But also probably jumping to conclusions like I do.

Oh shit goddamn you guys, Chooch and I did it! We made it through three months of grueling Jillian Michaels abuse! I am so proud of us! We worked out diligently 6 days a week, even getting up extra early on a day we were traveling to Toronto in order to get our scheduled Cardio in! WHO EVEN ARE WE.

I have always hated cardio, which is why I was so happy when I found KpopX because finally – enjoyable cardio! But this program somehow made it bearable since we only had to do the cardio routines every third day, and the strength training levels got so hard as we continued to advance, that I found myself actually being relieved when it was cardio day.

Yes, I dropped a pant-size, but I am honestly just feeling really good, physically and mentally, and that’s all that matters to me. It’s not about the number on the scale anymore. I can do all kinds of crazy pushups now and that is more rewarding to me than anything else!

No wait I lied – the most rewarding part is that Chooch finally gets it, exercising isn’t a drag to him anymore, and he has been so excited to see tangible changes. For instance, he texted me in all caps today because they had a fitness test thing in gym. The last time, he was only able to do three sit-ups.

HE DID SEVENTY-FIVE TODAY.

How amazing is that??

We’re current looking for a new routine to start (Chooch said it had to still be Jillian though which is good because I love her) but in the meantime, we decided to do one last run-thru of Body Revolution, so like each level one last time over the next two weeks. We did level one tonight and were cracking up at how easy it was for us now. I toned muscles that I didn’t know I had, you guys.

This is the first time I ever made it to the end of an exercise program – I would usually get bored, lazy, or frustrated when I got to something I couldn’t do – and I owe it to Chooch. Partially because I was trying to set a good example but also because it just made it more fun….

er, tolerable...having a workout buddy. We cried and swore at the TV together A LOT.

Jillian for life!!

(I’m trying to get Chooch to start a fitness YouTube channel with me, lol. So far he’s a hard no.)

(But c’mon guys can’t you just picture it? Trudy the Mannequin could be one of the backup work-outers. We could put a pretty leotard on her, some sweat bands, vintage LA Gear hightops? YOU WOULDNT SUBSCRIBE TO THAT??)

Good thing that hydrogen peroxide incident from earlier last week didn’t actually disintegrate my eyeballs because I had shit to watch this past weekend!

First up was “Us,” which was playing at our local theater that’s a five-minute walk from the house and if that didn’t wasn’t there, I would likely never see movies in the theater because it’s a struggle for me to get motivated just to sit somewhere for 2 hours! I like watching movies at home because I can pause that shit and move around.

Anyway, I allowed Janna and Chooch to accompany me and on the way there, it occurred to me that the last time I saw a movie in the theater was “Get Out,”….two years ago almost to the day. With the same people! So, I guess I only leave the house for Jordan Peele movies now. Super niche.

Inside the Hollywood, which is now owned by different people insistent on making this a mainstream House of Action Flicks, the ticket lady reminded me that it was an R-rated movie.

“I know, it’s fine,” I said, handing her my credit card.

“OK, I just wanted to make sure you knew that this was a horror movie. There was someone who brought a bunch of  kids to an earlier showing and they left after 10 minutes,” she continued her attempt hard sell me into a hard pass, and I half-expected her to hand me a waiver to sign at this point. This was almost as awkward as the time I was carded for Scream at the Denis Theater in the 90s. Like, look, do you want your money or not? I can’t remember ever being there to a packed house so TAKE MY MONEY WHILE I’M STILL BEING NICE ABOUT IT.

I explained that he was basically born and raised on horror and that seemed to appease her but I was getting ready for her to administer a DNA test to verify I was his mom, shit.

We claimed our favorite spot in the balcony and then the Hollywood subjected us to three rounds of the same four commercials, one of which was for Taco Bell nacho fries. Is this the shit I’ve been missing since I stopped watching TV? Wow.

Then they only showed two actual trailers before the movie finally started. I won’t get into the nitty-gritty of it but this movie was EXCELLENT. At first, I won’t lie, I wasn’t sure that I was going to like it only because it looked like it was going to go in one direction which displeased me but then it quickly took a turn and I was back on board to the point where my final verdict was: “BETTER THAN GET OUT.”

And you have to know that I thought Get Out was a fucking excellent film, even beyond the genre of horror. Jordan Peele’s ability to weave in ultra-relevant social commentary within a trope-less horror script is so impressive.

Non-spoiler tidbits:

• There’s a pretty vague/obscure Lost Boys reference in the very beginning that I may have actually missed if my friend Nate hadn’t alerted me about this beforehand. I was watching some “things you missed” YouTube video after watching “Us” and when the narrator mentioned this part, she prefaced it with “Fans of the 1980s vampire movie Lost Boys, but really, how many fans does that movie really have” or something along those lines and I was PISSED.
• The Luniz “I Got 5 On It” makes an audio appearance twice in the movie and it legit made me so happy and nostalgic because that was my JAM back in the day and I still have my (super-oversized) Luniz shirt shoved in the back of a dresser drawer. It features a cartoon condom on the front so there’s not many places I can wear it, really. Next time I have to go to the school office, maybe?
  • Coincidentally, Chooch and I have been watching Umbrella Academy, and Mary J. Blige is in that. I actually saw her, along with the Luniz, at this huge concert at Civic Arena in 1995…I think it was called The Phattest Hip Hop Show or something. I went with this guy Ken who I was friends with but turned out to be so toxic, and also his favorite song back then was Nikki French’s cover of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” so….Anyway, we had seats right on the floor and Puff Daddy (that wash is name then!!!!) threw cash monies into the crowd and I was so close to snatching a bill out of the air. So I was telling Chooch these things the other night and when I mentioned Biggie Smalls, he cut me off and cried, “YOU saw Notorious B.I.G.?!” He hates learning more facts about my golden childhood/teen years and I LOVE TELLING HIM ABOUT IT.
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When the credits started to roll, Chooch slowly applauded and then stopped and looked around. “What? Doesn’t anyone clap at the end of a movie anymore?” He sounded like such an old man!

Janna and I had an impromptu photoshoot in the ladies room while waiting for Chooch to use the mens room. He made us go downstairs to the restrooms with him because he was scared, lololol.

The next day, Henry, Chooch, and I went to see Kara’s son Harland in his elementary school’s production of Willy Wonka Jr. We were more than happy to support not only our friend’s kid but also a city school.

See? Sometimes I care about those kid things.

Here’s Henry meeting his culture quota for the year.

Before the show started, the people in front of us came back with WILLY WONKA CANDY BARS and Chooch and I started whining about how we wanted one too so Henry reluctantly slinked off for the concession stage. Then he came back and said HERE, YOU CRYBABIES. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE BIG DEAL, THEY’RE LITERALLY JUST HERSHEY BARS WITH A FAKE WILLY WONKA WRAPPER.

Yeah, but!

I guess we were expecting some chintzy elementary school rendition of Willy Wonka, rife with stuttering, missed lines, and questionable costumes fashioned from pipe cleaners and garbage bags, but apparently this school is like Fame Junior, so it was half-past chintzy, more toward glitzy. I mean, the girl who played Willy Wonka started the show by entering through the back of the auditorium, spot-lit and hitting us with her beautiful falsetto, and then people from the balcony showered her with handfuls of confetti.

The kid who played Charlie should have a contract with the Disney Channel and there two little girl Oompa Loompas in particular who stole the whole fucking show for me. I was goddamn obsessed with them and their urban sass. Oh, and Mrs. Gloop reminded me of when I was Zsa Zsa Gabor for a class project in 5th grade and I couldn’t stop cracking up at her adorable accent!

And then Harland, also an Oompa Loompa, casually wheeled across the stage on his unicycle, which was hilarious!

So this Urban Impact place across from the school assisted with the production, including the set design, and it was like…the real deal, man. Lightyears beyond crepe paper and cardboard, you know? There were giant golden tickets flanking the perimeter of the stage and each one would light up with the kid’s name who had just found a golden ticket. It was nutz0rz.

(Cats and Pizza applied to protect the innocent.)

Chooch’s school doesn’t have anything like this at all, but there is a CVS across the street so perhaps in the event they ever decided to put on a musical, they could paper mache their sets with the mile-long receipts we get with every CVS purchase.

Sigh. School shame. All we get at Chooch’s school are bi-annual no-frills performances by the “band” and the chorus.

I really, really liked that prior to the show starting, the Principal came out to do some rule-rapping and one of those rules was to implore everyone to not take pictures or videos during the show, that  there would be photo-ops afterward and DVDs are even going to be available. So it was really nice, and also extremely unusual in the year 2019, to be able to sit back and just enjoy a damn show without having to watch it through the screen of the person’s phone in front of me, so kudos to all those parents who actually listened!

This was a real treat and I’m glad that Kara told me about it. It was awesome getting to support Harland, and Chooch was so stoked to cheer him on, too. Aaaaand, Henry didn’t even fall asleep!

What a great weekend. 뿅!

Hey guys! Here’s your friendly greeting card merchant, checking in like a good shop owner! I’ve been getting some really blush-inducing feedback lately and I wanted to share – my customers are seriously the best. I love knowing that they’re happy with my products!

So today, I want to share some of my recent fave reviews not to toot my own horn but…yeah ok toot toot

First though, I finally redesigned my old, tired business card design! Granted m, it’s because I was almost out of the old ones and felt that was a good time to get off my ass and update them. I hated those old ones!

Anyway, here’s some feedback from both shops that have served as true pick-me-ups:

Ahhhhhh how cool is that??

Yes! I have had people tell me that they framed my cards before. Recently someone tagged me in an Instagram photo – someone had gifted them with a set of my serial killer notecards and they strung them up with clothespins on a piece of twine—I never even considered doing that! It made such a sinister bunting!

We really do mail these extremely well, in sturdy cardstock tombs! The cards themselves are sealed in a protective cellophane slip. All domestic orders come with tracking!

“Garishly gorgeous” is my new favorite description!

We use super high-quality paper with a linen-like texture! Not just your basic office supply store cardstock. And the notecards are backed with glitter cardstock! (Full-sized cards are backed with matte cardstock though, just a heads up!)

^^^^ this one tho!!

It really means a lot to have the quality of my cards recognized and my customer service appreciated. I really make it a point do whatever I can to ensure that everyone has a good experience shopping at Non Compos Cards and Hello Hanguk. I know how excited I get when someone gifts me something that is on brand with one of my obsessions so it makes me happy to know that the recipients of my cards are stoked and realize that someone went that extra step to find a card that’s relevant to their interests in lieu of just grabbing a basic flower-laden card at the corner mart.

If you can’t make your own cards, let me do it for you!

Exactly one year ago, we were in Korea! It still feels like it didn’t really happen, and I look at the pictures on my phone every day to remind myself that it was true. I’m not exactly sure what I thought was going to happen by going, but being there made things even worse for me, if possible, because I went from crying every day about how badly I wanted to go to Korea to crying every day about how badly I want to go back! This is definitely more than an obsession, I think. It’s a passion. I have never been this interested in anything else in my life, and this is coming from someone who has A LOT of interests and hobbies. I still watch travel vlogs on YouTube while eating my Korean dinners after work. I’m still (slowly) learning the language. I’m still knee-deep in kpop and kdramas. but to be perfectly frank, one of the main reasons I watch the dramas is because it teaches me a lot about the culture and social interactions.

I guess I just finally found The Big Passion of my life? (Sorry, Henry, it’s not you, lol.) I can’t think of anything else that I have devoted this much of my time (and heart real estate) to. Anyway, when I saw today’s date, I got super nostalgic. It’s only been a year, but I can already promise that those memories we made in Korea will wind up being some of the best memories of my life (hopefully Chooch’s too).

(I don’t think Henry cares about memories.)

The countdown to our return is in full effect. I mean, I have to go back for my heart, after all!

You know what day it is.

1. UNSOLICITED PRAYERS

I came back from my lunch break walk on Tuesday to the dreaded red light all lit up like a Bad News Beacon on my phone. A VOICEMAIL.

NO!

Turns out though that it was from some place called the Hope Prayer Center or something, and the message was from a very serious sounding woman (a nun, maybe!?!?!) urging me  to call them back with any urgent prayer requests I may have.

Lady, I need all the prayers. Can I have a flight of prayers? One big blanket prayer?

I thought for sure that Glenn had finally mustered up the motivation to get revenge on me for having religious pamphlets sent to his house (Todd tried to stop me but I could barely hear over my internal menacing cackle), but then I found out that a bunch of other people in the department also received a call, so it’s just some robo-call thing going down the line I guess and now I feel way less spiritually-targeted. The fun is gone. I’m not special, as suspected.

2. YEARLY CRACKLE

Once a year, I get a cold that settles in my chest, so that my voice gets all smokey and it sounds like there is a thimble of Rice Krispies chilling in my lungs. I.FUCKING.LOVE.IT.

No, I didn’t use my invisible sarcasm font on that. I legit love that crackly, wet cough so much that I will sit there and force it to happen. There have been times when I have nearly knocked myself out because I breathe in and out so deeply and unnaturally, calling forth that delightful crackle. Henry HATES this time of year. He thinks I’m insane and tries to deter me by googling worst case scenarios so that I’ll suddenly start to fear the crackle (apparently “chest crackle” is an actual thing that people call it so maybe there are others like me out there and  I can find a club to join or something – NOT a support group. I don’t need “help.” I just need some friends who I can loaf around with, reveling in productive coughs and wheezing in each other’s ears with glee, something that Henry shuns me for. Even my own son has disgustedly said, “Could you stop?” when I’m engaging in an evening of wet-wheezing and snap-crackle-pop huffs.

I’ve been like this my whole life! I was even convinced for a while (thanks, Merck Journal) that I was going to develop pleurisy because of my hacking hobby.

My favorite time of the day this week has been 5:35pm, when Henry picks me up from work and I am able to LET IT ALL OUT because I’m no longer in a quiet office. I sharply exhale until I feel like I’m going to crack a rib and then hold up one finger when the chest-crinkle starts. Henry just curls his lip and tells me he hates me.

Sadly though, the crackling is beginning to run its course and I’m afraid it might not even last through the weekend. :(

I think Henry’s breaking point was when I wistfully said that I wish I could see what the crackle looks like when it’s cracklin’.

Also, my coughs tastes like the essence of Slim-Fast. Not the pre-made kinds in the can, but the Slim-Fast that you actually blend yourself from the big canister of powder. My cold symptoms are very specific.

3. That Time Engagement Letters Were Fun

On Wednesday, we had this lunch & learn thing at work where the department gathers ’round to learn a new thing that’s valuable to their job, etc. The topic for this one was ENGAGEMENT LETTERS so some of the ladies from one of the teams I belong to were on charge of putting together a presentation for this and NOT GON’ LIE I was prepared to snooze my life away because ELs are like the bane of my law firm existence. However, they were prepared for this to possibly be the general consensus, so they planned a game of JEOPARDY and it was so much fun and I actually learned some things which is good since one my jobs involves reviewing eng. letters. Anyway, one of the questions was “Erin wants to renew her employment contract with SHINee. Which type of letter should be used?” AND THEN A PICTURE OF SHINEE APPEARED ON THE POWERPOINT! Carrie told me that they called her into the conference room the day that this was being put together because Wendy couldn’t remember what my favorite Kpop group was so Carrie was like “SHINee” and Wendy was like, “NO THAT IS NOT RIGHT” but Carrie was like, “LOOK I SIT IN FRONT OF HER SO I WOULD KNOW*. THAT’S THE GROUP TAEMIN IS IN” so that’s what they went with and I was absolutely TICKLED.

(Sometimes I get up and thrust my phone at Carrie so she can see whatever Instagram video of Taemin I’m currently squealing over. Perks of sitting in front of me.)

AND MY TEAM WON because of Carrie’s fancy and uber-particular Final Jeopardy answer which included something that even stumped one of the game hosts and made the other host groan because it was A TRUTH that she had forgotten to include, so we got motherfuckin’ bone points, bitches.

Later, Wendy was like, “I THOUGHT YOUR FAVE GROUP WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT, SHINEE DOES NOT SOUND FAMILIAR” and I was like, “That’s because you don’t look at all the pictures on my desk but keep pretending to my friend, it’s cool” sike I’m not that petty (BUT MAYBE PEEK AT THE ‘GRAM EVERY NOW AND THEN AND YOU’D KNOW!?). Anyway, I did say that BIGBANG is my ult but SHINee is pretty much neck and neck with them and she was like, “YES THAT IS WHO I WAS THINKING OF” and if they really wanted to, they could have included both in a question by saying that in addition to renewing an employment agreement, my husband Kwon Jiyong (a/k/a G-Dragon) and I were looking to get some estate planning help.

Anyway, it was fun to know that two of my friends were in a conference room arguing over who my favorite kpop group is!

4. Acid Eye Bath

Sunday night, I was taking out my contacts but ran out of saline solution so I grabbed a new bottle from the closet. I don’t know what your routine is like, but I always fill up the case first and then dunk my finger in the tiny saline pool before plucking the things off my eyes. WELL when I did this on Sunday, I immediately fell to my knees and started screaming because it felt like my left eye was MELTING. SEARING PAIN LIKE A KOREAN BBQ BEING HOSTED RIGHT ON THE SURFACE OF MY EYEBALL. I ran into the bedroom and woke up Henry, screaming, “WHAT IS THIS SALINE SOLUTION?! WHAT DID YOU DO??” because he was on this “spending up my FSA” kick at the end of the year and did a good deed, supposedly, by stocking up on saline solution for me.

“I don’t know, it’s some overnight contact cleaner. It has hydrogen peroxide in it. You’re not supposed to put it in your eye!”

HOW WOULD I KNOW IT HAD THAT IN IT?!

“Well, the cap is red…”

SO WHAT?!

I’m sorry, but I don’t read boxes. I saw that it said stuff on it about contacts and that was good enough for me.

I finally got my eye to stop stinging and Henry, having just finished reading the instructions, swore that it would be OK to use it because after 6 hours, it “neutralizes.” OH OK Mr. Wizard.

I vaguely recall hearing him say something about the “special case” that came in the box, but I glossed over that fact and still used my regular case, and HOO BOY was I in for an A.M. surprise!

Yeah, it was like soaking my contacts in straight toilet cleaner and then jamming it onto my eyes on the ends of wrought-iron stokers pulled straight from the fireplace. I couldn’t even open my eyes long enough to get the contact out! After several minutes of flushing it with my own natural tears, I rinsed it off real good with my NORMAL saline solution because luckily he bought more of that too, and then shoved it back in my eye and it seemed OK so I did the same rinsing thing with the other contact but IT HURT JUST AS BAD AS THE FIRST ONE DID, why!?

By this point, my eyes both looked like they were straight bleeding, like I was in some religious horror movie and suffering from optical stigmata while being banged by Beelzebub. I honestly thought I was going to have to call off work, which anyone at the Law Firm will tell you rarely happens, maybe thrice in the 9 years I’ve worked there.

“Or you could just wear your glasses?” Henry sneered when I called him crying.

UM NO THANKS I’ll suffer!

Anyway, the pain mostly subsided by the time I had to leave for work but my eyelids were fighting to close the entire time I was on the trolley. I was too afraid to give in to it though because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to open them again!

Then I spent the entire time trying to hide my demon eyes from my coworkers. I did whine to Margie about it and she kept trying to give me saline solution that she keeps in her junk drawer and I was like, “I DO NOT NEED SALINE SOLUTION NOW MARGIE THE DAMAGE IS DONE” but then the next day I asked her if she had any cough drops because I was having a coughing fit and she was like, “No sorry” and I was like, “OH OK BUT YOU HAVE SALINE SOLUTION, WOW.”

#needy

(I just produced a really great chest crackle just now, you guys.)

5. Bless This Mess

OK confession time: I think that I am falling a little bit out of love with Emarosa. I thought maybe it was a “It’s Not You, It’s Me” sitch since I am so embroiled in Korea Stuffs. I have tried several times to listen to their new album, but I’m just not vibing with it—it’s not that I don’t LIKE it, but it’s not gut-punching me, I haven’t latched on to any particular song, and it always winds up being background noise while I’m putting on my makeup before work. Aside from my revisit to Pierce the Veil-land a few weeks ago, I thought that maybe it just meant I’ve outgrown that part of my life, etc etc. BUT THEN DANCE GAVIN DANCE RELEASED A NEW VIDEO TODAY AND RIGHT AT THE .0002 SECOND MARK I WAS LIKE HELLOOOOOOOOOOO BOYS. And when Jon Mess started screaming, something in my woke up and I realized that no, that part of me is still there so maybe it’s Emarosa that’s changed too much?!

Oh man, DGD gets me so pumped. They’re coming to Pittsburgh next month and I already told Henry we have to go and he’s like, “….oh, good. You….still like Dance Gavin Dance. Sigh.”

What a beautiful start to Friday!

***

Well e-friends, that’s all for today. I hope everyone has a lovely weekend! I’m supposed to be seeing “Us” with Chooch and Janna and then hopefully going to see Kara’s kid in his school play, provided that Henry the Recreational Mechanic is actually able to change whatever part on the car that he recently ordered. I made the mistake of asking Henry a question about something he’s fixing on the car and then he elaborated into oblivion. I finally told him to stop when he was a second away from telling me what tools he needs, like a clawjack and nutball, who even knows. Later, because I was dumb and asked him another question about the upcoming car surgery, I learned that there is something that is like a LIBRARY, but for TOOLS. The knowledge just keeps pouring in on a tide of WD40 when you’re dating a Blue Collar Guy.

Post pictures of cats? Sure why not!

Penelope rests in her signature face-smash position after a strenuous round of screaming at her toys.

(I have never before had a cat who flat out yells at their toy mice and twist ties.)

Drewzilla. Her latest obsession is jumping on top of the fridge and it is driving me nuts.

Also, why does the tiniest bird in the yard gain her undivided attention but the biggest, wolfiest dog walking by with his owner gets a disinterested glance?

Cats, man. Amirite.

On this relatively boring Tuesday, I would like to share a song that has been etched into my eardrums ever since it was released last week.

FUN FACTS:

• Park Bom was once 1/4 of (arguably) the best Kpop girl group of all time, 2NE1. They disbanded way too early, after only 7 years together, at the end of 2016 right when I was really getting into Kpop and it’s always bummed me out that I didn’t get to experience them in real time.
• The girl who makes a cameo in the song and video is Dara, also a former member of 2NE1. There are always rumors that she and GDragon are dating and I wouldn’t be mad if it was true.
• Bom (봄) means “spring” in Korean.
• Park Bom had a scandal a few years back because her family in the US was sending her prescription pills for her ADHD that she was unable to get in Korea and even though she was never charged with anything, it still nearly killed her career and the fact that she had just this solo comeback is a HUGE DEAL.
• I read that the fact that she has foreign girls singing around her in that one scene in the video symbolizes that the foreign fans stuck by her through her “scandal” and subsequent hiatus while the Korean fans canceled her.
• 2NE1 was actually primed to be the first girl group to break into the US market but poor management & planning by their agency ruined that. Now that same agency is attempting to do it with their new girl group (Blackpink) and 2NE1 fans are not impressed.
• (I like both groups but 2NE1 is superior in my opinion.)
• You may have actually heard 2NE1 before and never known it! There was a routine YEARS ago on So You Think You Can Dance that used this song, and also it was in a commercial or two, I believe because I remember instantly recognizing it years later when I saw the music video for the first time:

And that’s all for this week’s Kpop101 lesson.

I’m really happy right now for a totally 100% vain reason and I don’t even care, I’m still going to write about it on here because IT’S MY LIFE (not to be confused with the seminal 1980s synthpop classic by Talk Talk).

But first, a story.

When I was a teenager, there was a clothing store in Oakland called Avalon that I loved to shop at. It has long since turned into a shitty second-hand chain (if it’s even still open at all?) but in the 1990s, it was a haven for skaters and goths and the in-between people like me who just liked to wear some outrageous pieces. I got so many crazy Elvira shoes & gogo boots there, and a long black skirt that said “Bitch” all over it, plus my favorite pair of overalls that I left in a hotel room in Australia.

(I was super into clothes before I became poor/had a kid/got depressed.)

One time, I bought this fucking gorgeous Lip Service blazer with dragons embroidered all over it. I was a pretty average weight at 19 (125-130 pounds) but I remember trying on the only size they had (a Small) and it was pretty snug. I bought it anyway because it was too cool to pass up.

I only wore that thing one time because it was so tight and uncomfortable that I was afraid I was going to bust through it like some kind of Hulk wannabe (apropos for my temperament). The night I wore it, to a birthday dinner for Lisa at the Office Lounge, I ran into one of my mom’s friends in the parking lot of my apartment complex. I guess she called my mom and mentioned the blazer because she thought it looked expensive because the next day, I got a call from my mom asking me about the “Oriental blazer” I was wearing the night before and how much did it cost. Lol — my mom paid my American Express back then and I always made her super nervous. (Like the time I used it to “invest” in some Internet Mall Ponzi scheme – HOO BOY that one almost got me disowned.)

Um, back to the blazer – it wasn’t EXORBITANT but it was definitely around $150, probably, so I never wanted to get rid of it, even though I just seemed to get fatter and fatter over the years, the possibility of ever wearing it again getting farther from my reach.

Today, something made me fish it out of the back of my closet and not only did it fit, but it fit correctly. There’s actually room in the arms now! And it buttons easily! I was so excited that I made Henry verify that it looked ok and then I commanded Chooch to take pictures because I just needed to see it to believe it.

Look, I know it’s not cool to lose weight just to fit in smaller clothes or whatever and that is not why I have been diligently exercising or watching my diet, but this blazer is like, symbolic to me because it represents a really great time in my life and to be able to put this thing on again and actually wear it instead of hiding it in my closet makes me so happy, but it also really proves to me just how hard I’ve been working and how much it finally shows.

Chooch and I are on the last two weeks of the Jillian Michaels Body Revolution program and I can honestly say I didn’t think we’d be able to hang this long into it but here we are, doing scorpion push-ups and fitting into small goth blazers from 1998. I am pretty proud.

When you take direction from a 12-year-old photographer.

I might sleep in this tonight. Don’t judge me.

Every winter, I get on this kick where I am determined to do more culture-y (oh wait, there’s a real word for that – cultural) things to get me out of the house, but it almost never pans out. Usually there’s one trip to the Mattress Factory and then my internal cultural quota quietly considers itself met, I guess. This year, I waited until winter was almost over before texting Janna about how we should start going to, you know, like, plays or something. But like, small ones that aren’t playing anywhere downtown or whatever. There was this one time in 2009 when I went to see some small, bare-bones local production of Alice in Wonderland at some theater in Carnegie with some whack broad who got cut from the friends list shortly after much to the angelic rejoicing on high from other friends, and I remembered that it was really cool, but maybe the seats were uncomfortable?

(Oh shit, I guess I did go see Hamilton in January so yay, one cultural thing!)

Anyway, Janna was like, “Yes let’s do this” and then sent me a link asking if it was the theater in Carnegie I was talking about. The one she sent me was actually a DIFFERENT one called Carnegie Stage, but the first thing I saw when I clicked on the link was the poster for their upcoming Off the Wall production called MUMBURGER, billed as “a surreal new play about grief, parenting, and alternative meat.”

I quickly texted back, “LET’S GO SEE THIS” and Janna was like “OK” because she never says no to me. I found two good seats up front for Friday March 15th and told her “HURRY AND BUY YOUR TICKET BEFORE IT SELLS OUT” while Henry was sitting next to me on the couch, mumbling about he doubted it was going to sell out.

YOU NEVER KNOW! The theater looked super small with only like 50 seats! I was in panic-mode, OK?! And I could tell that Janna hadn’t read my latest KakaoTalk messages so I just kept texting HELLO and then finally she was like OK GOT IT and then I was like, ok good now I will buy mine, but the site kept crashing on me and then I finally got to the payment page and I didn’t have my wallet near me and Henry started lecturing me about how YOU KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO NEED YOUR WALLET WHY DID YOU WAIT UNTIL NOW and I was like STFU AND GO GET YOURS and it was just a real scene OK maybe it can be the next Off the Wall Production.

Meanwhile, Chooch found out that Janna and I were going to be doing something without him, god forbid, and he was royally pissed, especially after he started reading about Mumburger.

“That looks actually really cool, thanks for inviting me,” he moodily texted me later that night from his room. LOL.

After a nice dinner at the nearby Bakn (I was pleasantly surprised at the veg-options that a place billed as a bacon haven actually had and now I am sorry that I purposely avoided it all these years, A+ veggie sandwich, will return, but will pass on the tasteless coleslaw next time and just get fries because Janna let me have some of hers and they were THE KINDS I LIKE, THE GOOD KINDS), we made it to the Carnegie Stage and everyone there was so friendly! And the ticket lady who showed us our seats (which made me laugh because the room only had two rows of seats) reminded me of BARB so I was really loving this joint and considered becoming a board member at one point and I don’t even know what that involves but who cares.

Our seats were right there, practically on the floor! Janna almost got hit by a frozen veggie burger when one of the characters hurled it across the room! I was a little nervous though because I wasn’t sure if there would be any audience interaction, which is like my biggest fear and also why I almost never go to comedy shows and by almost never I mean that I have only been to two ever in my whole life, and neither were by choice.

All I knew about this play is that it was about a vegan mom who gets killed by a truck and sends herself to her daughter and husband in the form of burger patties – this isn’t a spoiler.

Lauren actually emailed our group earlier in the week to see if anyone could take her Friday late shift, and after Glenn replied that he would do it, I responded with, “Good, now I don’t have to sell my ticket to a play about a vegan mom who dies and sends herself to her grieving family as hamburgers.”

Glenn asked, “Is this a Disney production?” and Todd was like, “Was your email missing some words, or…?” but then I sent them the link and they were like, “Why does this not surprise us that you have tickets for this.”

Anyway, the even cooler thing about this play is that it was written by a Pittsburgh(ish) native, Sarah Kosar. She moved to London in 2009 to pursue playwriting and eventually received an Exceptional Promise in Playwriting visa and I think I know what that means and it sounds pretty good! I felt pretty good about supporting someone from here — too bad we didn’t get tickets for the premiere weekend though – we could have met her! But alas, she’s back in London now.

Briefly, I’ll tell you that this play was 75 minutes of intense emotions, brilliant wordplay, manic movement between the sole two characters, and unexpected moments of humor. It’s set over the span of a week in the shared home of the daughter (in her 20s) and husband of the recently deceased vegan, and illustrates the bi-polar-esque grief cycle they experience individually, and together, and it was HASHTAG RELATABLE (minus the “digestible memorial” aspect). There is a scene that shows both of them, simultaneously, distracting themselves from the inevitable funeral arrangements–the dad is watching scenes from Father of the Bride to try and teach himself how to verbalize affection for his daughter, and the daughter replays a video of a rollercoaster disaster in China 25 times–and it is so raw and real, and you’re fighting back tears, but then they come together in the next scene and their dysfunctional banter has you laughing out loud.

It was GENIUS. I’m obsessed with Sarah Kosar now.

Afterward, I was waiting for Janna to come back from the bathroom and opened my purse to get my car keys out. With it came a lone piece of confetti from Patty’s birthday dinner last week. THAT FUCKING CONFETTI MADE IT ALL THE WAY TO CARNEGIE.

Anyway, that was fun and now we want to go and see more local plays. Maybe we’ll just start hitting up all the high schools. Or wait for Chooch’s first play – he just signed up for theater club at the Teen Center, so this should be excellent.

Blog, this is one of those days where I wish you were a real person and we’re sitting across from each other at a cafe and you’re smiling quietly while I rattle on and on about every last thought that enters my vapid, bat-filled cavern of a mind to distract myself from all that is making me anxious.

Speaking of cafes though, I went to Allegheny Coffee on my break yesterday and had a delightful apple butter latte which is made with REAL APPLE BUTTER and not syrup – I watched the skinny flannel guy scoop it out of a jar, yo – and it was perfectly not-sweet and just right. And the baristas were all aloof and friendly, telling dumb jokes and playing Pictionary with drink orders. That’s my kind of cafe, you know? Sometimes there are dogs in there too. I think all cafes should have animals in them but that’s just me.

Let’s free-form this motherfucker out of the blogpark, shall we?

Did you know that there were two separate deaths on my mom’s street caused by grass-cutting? Of course you didn’t know  that, and either did Lori when I said that very same thing to her after she was talking about needing to cut her grass and having a steep hill and I killed the mood with a quickness by sharing that fun fact. But yeah, two deaths, two riding lawn mowers, two hills. The one man ultimately died from a heartattack, but the woman died from a broken neck after her riding mower rolled down a hill with her on it. So fucking scary, man. I think my mom’s street (good ol’ Gillcrest) is probably haunted.

Speaking of death, I went to a funeral last Friday at my childhood church and realized while I was sitting in the parking lot because I was too early (shocking) that I don’t think I have been back to that church since my Pappap’s funeral in 1996 and that was so depressing and I was like DON’T CRY DON’T CRY DON’T CRY so I distracted myself by texting my mom about how I couldn’t believe Litwin auto body (the “a” and “b” are lowercase on their sign, wtf)  was still there because it was in my line of vision while hiding in my car and my mom said she was just thinking the same thing the other day when she drive past it! #random Then I went inside and I was the first one there so I had a mild panic attack over where to sit because I really wanted to just pop a squat in the last row but I didn’t want to be that weirdo in the back so I went with a safe middle pew and felt good about my choice and then proceeded to sit alone and stew in my heresy until the service started and all I will say about that is that I got oddly stoked to hear my old jams (“On Eagle’s Wings” particularly) and for a split second I started to consider maybe going back to church, I don’t know, should I?! Chooch looked at me like I was nuts when I asked him if he would want to go sometime because what 12 year old says yes to that.

Oh, what’s that I’m drinking, you might ask if we actually were talking in person like real life friends? So I have started drinking kombucha regularly, yes, I’m one of Those People and I never in a million years thought that I would be. The first time I had it was probably 10 years, we were leaving what used to be my Ultimate Favorite Ice Cream Joint called Oh Yeah (since replaced by Millie’s, in my heart and actual brick-and-mortar location) and the owner was your total Wheat Grass Head and literally chased me down and slammed a bottle of kombucha in my hand. I thought I was going to projectile-spray it back in his face when he insisted I take my inaugural swig in front of him. It was like drinking the piss from the Toxic Avenger, I don’t even know how else to explain it, and all that shit that was swimming around in the deep end of the bottle gave me chills. But I was determined to finish it because Dude was going on and on about the benefits and I loved his ice cream and vegan waffles and wanted to love his weird health tonic too. It took me a full week to finish drinking it and then I waited another 5 years before trying it again. I’m not sure if kombucha has just become more palatable in general or if all the kimchi has primped and primed my taste buds for extreme fermentation,  but the last several times I downed a bottle on a whim, I noticed that I didn’t mind the taste anymore and actually started to crave that weird, fizzy burn down my gullet. So about a month ago I decided to incorporate it into my diet and  am here to report that my gut has been feeling FANTASTICO. Active cultures are welcome inside me. However, when I opened one of my bottles at work the other day, it exploded and that really made my desk smell super great, as you can imagine.

HOLD UP this just in: TODD JUST DISCOVERED QUEEN. He sent me an email, all excited about it, how he saw Bohemian Rhapsody but didn’t realize it was a biopic, and now that he’s fallen down the Queen YouTube rabbit hole, he has since figured out that he knew a lot of the songs from commercials, and why can’t I stop laughing about this!! So I told him about the time my pal Lisa videotaped me in the 90s dancing theatrically to Radio Gaga with curlers in my hair and he was like, “Why does this not shock me.”

Wow Imaginary Cafe Date, you’re learning so much about me right now.

Also, I am getting major LiveJournal feels right now. It feels nice to just sit down and write about anything that comes to my mind.

Like for instance my very specific silverware-related OCD, something that developed at some point during my childhood but I just can’t quite pinpoint when. So basically, I must keep spoons and knives separated at all times because everyone knows that there is a centuries-old love triangle between knives, spoons, and forks but FORKS AND SPOONS BELONG TOGETHER FOREVER OK. THE KNIVES ARE THE BAD GUYS and not like, the misunderstood kinds of bad guys that are actually soft-hearted and doughy in the middle, but the actual bad guys who like, run sex rings and kick puppies. So, basically, it’s a Larry Welch/Hope Williams/Bo Brady* kind of love triangle that we’ve got here. And ever since I was a kid, I have always made sure that the forks separate the spoons from the knives in the silverware drawer. Common sense, right? I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE TOLD THIS TO HENRY and that misogynistic motherfucker is always putting the spoons in the middle, right next to the nefarious knives who are only going to impregnate them and not pay child support!! HE JUST DID IT AGAIN THE OTHER DAY AND I HAD TO ANGRILY REARRANGE IT and now I’m wondering if he’s doing it on purpose because he’s trying to slowly give me a nervous breakdown?!

*(You know what’s sad? That I can remember the full names of fictional people from Salem with more ease than people from my actual life. I mean, those names up there just rolled right the fuck off my fingertips, you have no idea. Although, I DID keep a pretty extensive DAYS scrapbook in the 80s…)

Speaking of scrapbooks, here’s another super rad fact about the “author” of this blog. Whenever I would get obsessed with TV shows (me? obsessed?) I would giddily  tear through the TV Guide, clipping out any ad or TV listing I could find for it. Specifically, the ones that stick out most vividly in my mind because I can literally picture them thumb-tacked to my bulletin board, the made-for-TV remake of Phantom of the Opera (starring CHARLES DANCE and you have no fucking idea how much shit I flipped when I realized that he was also in Game of Thrones, unless you are a consistent reader of this Internet word dump because I am sure I went off about that in some prior post) and Wild Palms, which to this day I still have the poster image emblazoned on my retinas for some reason. I don’t remember a single thing that this mini-series was about other than I thought I was cool for watching it because it was Oliver Stone and the picture of the lady with the big palm tree tattooed on her back. I couldn’t tell you what it was about.

Oh! Another one that I inexplicably was obsessed with was this Lifetime movie called In a Child’s Name with Valerie Bertinelli.  Thanks to some well-timed heads-ups from the TV Guide, I was able to watch this movie several times throughout the years back  then and every time I freaked out when the police did UV light thing and ALL THE BLOOD SHOWED UP. That was how I learned about that, you guys. I practically thought I was a homicide detective by then.

I’m going to a play tomorrow night with Janna and hopefully she doesn’t read this blog post because then we will have nothing to talk about at dinner HAHAHA JUST KIDDING I will talk my face off.