You guys this was Henry’s dinner yesterday. Why.

Ok now I have to go back to watching a livestream of NCT Dream arriving at Incheon Intl Airport with RENJUN finally with them, instead of cooking Henry dinner like a good little wife because I am clearly part of the problem.

LOL.

I am so behind as usual. But for once, I am all caught up in my paper haunted house journal! When will I ever grow out of this phase, sigh. I feel like I’m even more dumb about it these days because I am in my “washi tape and sticker” era.

Last weekend, we went to Castle Blood with Amy and Dick – it was their first time there! Fresh blood! I told them while waiting outside that I never feel more dumb than I do inside the walls of Castle Blood. I love being made fun of by the undead denizens! For anyone who has somehow missed me jawing off about this haunt for the last 25 years, it is NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS HAUNTS, OK? You want to see animatronics barfing into a toilet and get chased through a maze by a chainsaw, then go somewhere else and prepare to not get your money’s worth. But Castle Blood is all about making it a personal, intimate experience. You go through in small groups (usually just who you arrive with) and get to interact with the denizens in every room by engaging in challenges for talismans or tokens of protection.

Every year, the theme and story line changes so it’s a brand new experience, making it a mainstay on the annual lists of any haunt thoosie.

When we were waiting outside, Boris started to float by and I said to Amy and Dick, “He’s my favorite but he never remembers me!”

That got Boris’s attention so he stopped and, in his patented snide and bored Easten Euro-accented tone, said, “And why should I?”

YES. BEAT ME UP WITH YOUR WORDS! You will also get a healthy dose of verbal bullying at Castle Blood. I live for this. PUT ME IN MY PLACE!

KNOCK ME DOWN A PEG!

And so on and so forth, etc. etc. etc.

Amy and Dick loved it! It is not often that I get to bring newbies to the Castle–most of my friends are not into haunted houses at all, sadly, so I stopped asking!–and it was a lot of fun experiencing it through them, you know?

My favorite was in Gravely’s office, where we had to take turns giving the denizen a “magic word” to use to get the beads of protection to appear under a box. When it was my turn, I confidently shouted, “갑자기!” and then I stage-whispered to Dick and Amy, “That means suddenly in Korean.”

“Well, unfortunately, the spirits in the Castle don’t speak Korean, so that didn’t work,” the office denizen (why am I so bad at remembering names) said in a total “eye roll” tone and I loved it.

The next night, Henry and I went to Sewickley Haunted Church. It had been a few years since we last came to this one but it’s always a good, chaotic time. Here are some pictures because I’m sure you care.

I just love that this is actually put on by the church’s youth group –  do not expect anything to be “toned down” because of it being done by church people, that’s for sure!

I really missed Chooch on this night. We have never gone to this one without him! :(

And then last night we went to a new one in Mercer, PA wherever that it – it took a little over an hour to get there. We actually had originally tried to go on Friday and got ALL THE WAY THERE just to see that it was closed. We don’t use Facebook but they had apparently posted there earlier that day saying that they weren’t going to be open that night.

MOTHERFUCKER.

That really pissed me off, but what can you do? If you’re me, you sulk and stare out the window with a pout the whole way home.

Anyway, they were open last night and it was “only” $10 because of “economical hardships” but I would have been pissed if we had to pay the usual $20 ticket price because it only took us 10 minutes to go through, and the first part only had two children scare actors in there. It was very rudimentary and old school which I am normally a fan of, but there was literally nothing happening in there.

The second part was in an outdoor livestock pen thingie and there were 3 guys in there being totally creepy and psychotic and honestly – that part alone made me not regret driving out here. They understood the assignment and it ended with me freaking out and fucking sprinting out of there like I was possessed by the ghost of a 1950s track star before the chainsaw guy even had a chance to fire up his saw.

I made it halfway back to the parking lot before turning around and watching Henry calmly strolling out with my three tormentors flanking him, laughing.

Then we listened to Seventeen the whole way home and talked about the concert which I still have to process my thoughts on before recapping it here, and that was just really nice.

The haunt season is almost over which means the fear of winter will hit me and my depression will probably come back before it even had a chance to leave, so I can’t wait for that. Ugh.

I think we have 1 or 2 or more haunted houses to squeeze in. If they weren’t so fucking $$ we would do more, but the days of legit haunted house hopping are long gone, yo. We are lucky if we can afford to do 2 in a weekend. God, I miss the $5-$10 little fire station or YMCA haunts that used to be everywhere in the 90s, piling into Lisa’s minivan and hitting 2 or 3 in one night. Granted, those outings were also funded by my mom back when the value of a dollar was lost on me (it still is in most cases, ngl).

OK, I have to go. Seventeen videos are calling me. And remember – if you’re going out to a pumpkin patch anytime soon, don’t fall on a pumpkin stem. That happened to me once at Trax Farms when I was a youngin! IT WAS NOT COMFY.

This week was actually so good, you guys. I can’t remember the last time I was able to say that. I’m still on a really weird emotional high after seeing Seventeen – in a good way, mostly, but I have also been sporadically crying so fat, hot tears because of Drew and it’s OK though. I know that now, that this is part of the process, I’m healing and sometimes scabs are pulled off too early and we have a little set back, right? SHOULD I BE A THERAPIST. SHOULD I WRITE AN ADVICE COLUMN. SHOULD I START NEEDLEPOINTING MY DUMB SAYINGS ON PILLOWS.

Anyway, here are five things that I want to remember from this week / life lately.

1. Henry’s Haunted Basement

When we were just getting into Chicago on Tuesday, we saw a big billboard for a haunted attraction called the Haunted Basement.

“I wonder where that is,” Henry murmured.

“UP YOUR BUTT,” I blurted, the violence of the words shooting out of my mouth somehow not knocking out any teeth.

Henry frowned deeply while I was fisting the air in victory. I love it when my answer-to-everything lands!

I posted this on Instagram AND ***SURPRISINGLY*** NO ONE SIGNED UP FOR MY MASTER CLASS IN COMEBACKS.

2. SEVENTEEN SWAG

I got so much stuff this time because we got there extra early to get in the early mech line (all for naught because everything was sold out before we even got to the front). The weird thing though is that everyone always passes me up and I have to follow them and ask pathetically, “Can I have one too?” IT IS NOT MY AGE OK because trust me – there are tons of broads at these shows that are grandmas. I don’t know what it is about me?? Is my RBF that bad?! Is it because Henry is standing next to me, glowering?!

Anyway, I was happy because I got some Seungkwan stuff :)

Also, I had to swap out my Dreamie pocas for SVT ones beforehand and I put Minghao in the window in honor of Bambi :/

And my SVT credit card was on the other side lol. I’m 16. It was especially peak when I paid for my Bambi SVT tattoo with it lol.

3. My Jerk Son

Just gonna leave this here.

I mean where’s the lie though honestly.

4. Late to the Game, or Early to the New Wave???

My Belgian beer obsession is going strong. Why am I like this? I can’t ever just moderately like things like normal people, I have to be so fanatical and obnoxious. OH WELL THAT’S WHY YOU LOVE ME.

I was lamenting the other night that this one restaurant we used to go to occasionally isn’t around anymore. It was called Sharp Edge and specialized in Belgian beers. There were a few locations but we always went to the CREEK HOUSE (Kristen if you’re reading this, it’s where we went when you and Matt were in town when Chooch was a baby!). I 100% wasn’t drinking beer when we went there, but I went for the ambiance, the vibes, the LAMBIC which I now know actually is beer and I never knew that.

Inspired to find out why they closed all locations, I googled and wound up on a Reddit page about it where 9 out of 10 comments said it was because no one cares about Belgian beer anymore LOLOLOL this is the story of my life! Always late to the game!

THAT’S FINE. Maybe there will be a revival and I can say that it was because of me.

Today at work Megan was telling me about a pumpkin beer she recently had and OK MEGAN BUT I DON’T DRINK PUMPKIN BEER ANYMORE THAT’S FOR BABIES! It’s Belgian or GTFO, OK?! #NOTLIKEOTHERGIRLS

Here is a picture of Baby’s Fourth Delirium! Still #1 in my heart. I like designer beer, don’t forget it. (A hostess gift to consider for future parties I may be hosting.)

We went to a bottle shop tonight and they did not HAVE ANYTHING BELGIAN and I walked out of there like a fucking snob, I’m not even kidding you, and then I shouted in the parking lot, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT THAT I DON’T LIKE ANYTHING AMERICAN THIS COUNTRY IS DUMB!”

Hello, welcome to the Beer Snob Erin era.

(I will tell you that I have also enjoyed every beer of Henry’s that I sipped while in Korea but it is harder to obtain that shit here in Pgh. Don’t worry, we acquired some in Chicago but I’m saving it for Chingumas the Sequel!)

5. Collegiate Chooch Being Involved

Chooch sent me this story from the Drexel Honors College Instagram and said, “YOU’RE WELCOME” because he knew I never would have seen it otherwise.

I just love seeing him thrive and participating in college things! I miss him lots but seeing stuff like this makes it all worth it.

He’s not even going to know who I am when he comes home for Thanksgiving and I’m walking around with a chalice of Trappist beer.

Because I’m a sucker, I signed up for my work’s Global Day of Service this year. I had been in retirement since 2021 when I did that terrible SURPRISE, LOG SPLITTER! hard labor disguised as “setting up the pumpkin patch for the annual Halloween event.” MMMmmm.

This is really pathetic that I am proud of myself over this at the fucking ripe old age of 45, but I signed up for this without giving a shit if anyone else from my dept was also going to participate. Todd tossed around the idea of joining me, and the old Erin would have waited to sign up until he did, but I think I am so numb lately that not even social anxiety can penetrate the Novocain-like forcefield around my listless body.

It ended up just being me and a guy from another department who signed up for this particular assignment (I kept calling it the NUN HOUSE but Henry crushed my fantasies when he said it was really just an old folks house) and even that was fine with me. I vaguely knew the guy from sporadic emails over the years regarding patent stuff that is PROBABLY TOO CONFUSING FOR YOU (j/k more like boring) so I’ll leave it at that. He emailed me the day before to ask me how I was getting there. Now, mind you, we do not interact often at all, have never met in person, etc. So I didn’t think anything of it when I said I would be driving and then his follow-up email was him asking me if I could pick him at the office!

I panicked and said YES because I wanted to be a nice colleague, etc etc etc and isn’t this what CARPOOLING is?! My issue wasn’t even the fact that I didn’t know the guy (of course I wouldn’t care about that, I’m me and you are you) but because NOW I WOULD HAVE TO DRIVE DOWNTOWN.

I DID NOT WANT TO DO THIS. So I called Henry and was all, “WHAT TO DO” and he was like, “I am busy working right now, I don’t care what you do, this is your problem” but then I ever so suavely, as I’m wont to do, made it his problem as well:

“WHAT IF, now just hear me out, YOU COME HOME AND PICK ME UP, AND THEN DRIVE DOWNTOWN AND WE GET THIS GUY, AND THEN YOU TAKE US BOTH THE THE NUN HOUSE—”

“—nursing home,” Henry mumbled.

“—AND THEN PICK US UP WHEN WE’RE DONE, TAKE HIM BACK DOWNTOWN, AND THEN BRING ME HOME.”

And of course he said yes hahaha.

Anyway, it was fine. I didn’t get a Stranger Danger sense at all, in fact, the only sense I got is that he was there to landscape and not make chitty-chatty with this dumb girl from the Conflicts department.

I’m just never happy – part of me is like LEAVE ME ALONE and then when I am in a scenario where I’m truly being left alone, suddenly my tune changes to TALK TO ME, PLAY ATTENTION TO ME, LAUGH AT MY JOKES.

(I can report that he laughed at approx. zero of my jokes. The next day, I was whining about this at work and Margie was like, “Maybe you’re just not that funny??” HEY! But no seriously, that’s more than a maybe.)

Once we arrived at the Nun House, everything was….well, fine! I have NO COMPLAINTS at all. From the old man at the front desk to the driver relaxxed to the maxx in an arm chair loudly detailing his heritage back to the medieval times (Scottish and German, in case you have a niche genealogy of strangers kink) to the arrival of our landscaping supervisor for the day (Dar, I believe was her name!), literally everyone we encountered was so friendly and casual that I felt like I had stepped into a 1970s sitcom, or you know, just a time in general where people knew how to talk to each other comfortably.

Dar told us we could either wait there, or go to the MEET AND TREAT room for coffee and donuts. I said, “I COULD EAT A DONUT” at the same time Mike (my gardening partner) said, “I’m good.”

But in the end, we followed Dar to the MEET AND TREAT room (it actually was called that and had an official sign!!), I snagged a Halloween donut from a Dunkin’ box, and then we proceeded to follow Dar to the CERAMICS ROOM but I can’t remember why we went there now. She had to get something, I don’t know – it was a full week ago at this point!

I wasn’t really hungry but I felt giddy and when I feel giddy, I want sugar so that my giddiness can be sustained for longer.

Now I will try to quickly detail the key points of the day:

• Our first task was to cut down these flowers that Dar kept referencing by…brand? name and I just stood there nodding dumbly when I had NO CLUE what she was talking about. I had to wait for Mike to grab hedgeclippers and then I followed his lead. Thank god, because I was about to do something completely different. So yeah, we had to cut down these tall flowers that were against the front of the building and then after that, Dar wanted us to start digging them up in groups of 3, and then leaving groups of 3, because they were trying an “experiment” to see if they would grow back, I can’t remember now. I was bored at this point. Anyway, Mike grabbed a shovel off her little gold cart thing and then Dar said, “OK I’m going to go to the side of the building for a minute, BRB” and I was about to say, “Oh wait, I need a shovel!” but instead just shrugged and said, ‘Eh” to myself. And then to Mike, I said, “Oh no, she left before I could get a shovel.” So then I stood there while he shoveled and made him talk to me.
• Dar came back and there was still shoveling to be done :( So I had to shovel and it was hard. I asked Henry later that day if I had ever shoveled before and he did that NO-MIRTH LAUGH-BARK and said, “I doubt it.”
• Then a NUN came out, she was the garden boss I think, and inspected our work. I really liked her and wanted her to make her proud! I also found myself trying to hide my hand tattoos lol.
• After this, we stole two bales of hay from the AUTUMNAL DECOR near the entrance and sprinkled it around where we the remainder of those flower things were. Someone tapped on a window above my head and I looked up to see another nun waving and smiling at me! IT WAS SO EXCITING! Not so exciting that I felt obliged to blog about it right away, though. Still took a week, lol.
• I uncovered peanut shells in my flower-cutting  travels and laughed, “Looks like someone here feeds the squirrels!” and Dar sighed exhaustedly and said, “Yeah, and I’ll tell you who it is!” I guess it’s one of the volunteers in the cafeteria. She gives the peanuts to the residents because they like to feed the squirrels (my kind of Elders!) and Dar said she goes to this broad, “Well, you know how you like *INSERT SOME BRAND NAME FLOWER* that are in the front?” and the broad said, “Yeah” so Dar shouted, “WELL THEY’RE NOT GOING TO BE THERE IF THE SQUIRRELS KEEP DIGGING – STOP FEEDING THEM!” I was like, “OH HAHAHAHAH you would hate to live by me then” and I told her about my Buddys and Mr. Gray Guys and she goes, “OK, I’ll tell you what I told her — STOP!!!” and she SHOUTED it in my face, but then she started laughing and said, “I’m just kidding!” and I was like, “Oh, hahaha” while clutching my peanut shell pearls.

I HELPED DO THIS.

• Then we went to the courtyard which I thought was going to be my favorite area until I found out that we were doing the worst of all of the jobs, which was WRAPPING SAPLING TREE THINGS so that the deers won’t eat them. I had NO IDEA what this entailed even after she explained it to us. I mean, I honestly could not picture this in my head AT ALL but Mike started grabbing stakes and immediately went to work while Dar was unwrapping a giant roll of netting stuff. I won’t get into it, but we had to do this to like 8 trees or something and I sincerely did the bare minimum with this. I just pretended like my role of cutting the net was super important and took way longer than it had to. Mostly because every time I tried to do the stake part, Mike would come over and say, “No no, you need this to be away from the tree more” and then he would pull it out of the ground and reposition it, so I was like THEN YOU DO ALL OF THEM.
• I admitted to Dar that I had no idea what she wanted us to do until after I saw them start the first tree and she laughed. “Wow, you really meant it when you said you don’t do yard stuff.” Yeah man. I wouldn’t lie about that, lol.

• The last part we did was back in the front, where we pulled out the ceramic decorations from among the flowers. I was good at that part.

I looked like a shrub here but I don’t care, it was a day to remember, lol. I got kind of dirty a little bit!

I took a picture of Dar when she wasn’t looking – I wanted a picture of all three of us but then she was like, “OK, I’ll take your picture together” and like, OK thanks but that is not what I wanted :( Anyway, I feel weird about posting Dar’s picture here since I took it from my hip like a creep so you will just have to use your imagination. I also blocked out Mike’s face because maybe I’m getting overly cautious in my old age but I am so nervous about posting about work in general, let alone the face of someone who works there but not actually with me, you know?

And then Henry came to pick us up when Mike was talking about his radio hobby thing and how he has a club that just became a 501-something and was interested in seeing if he could do something with that at the nun house and I was like, in my head, “I am also interested in doing more stuff here” LIKE CERAMICS because that is what Dar’s sister does there and Dar helps her and told us (me, specifically!) that we should come back sometime and help out with that and I would love that. I told her about how my mom and I used to take ceramics classes back in the late 80s at a place called KIRSTINGS CERAMICS and I loved it even though I hated the KIRSTINGS (the husband, Lynn, was an asshole) but then suddenly one of my mom’s friends was like, “I want to go too” and instead of all of us going, this turned into A GIRLS NIGHT I guess and I was left behind, where I would fight with my dad and brother Ryan and I started to dread CERAMICS NIGHTS because of that. I mean, I didn’t tell Dar ALL OF THAT, like how the time my dad and I got in a fight on St Patricks Day and he threw a fork at me and the tines went into my knuckle happened on CERAMICS NIGHT, but I gave her the gist of it and she was like, “OH! Well, then you should definitely come and do ceramics with us then!” And I felt seen.

I FELT SEEN.

Then Henry drove us back downtown in silence, and after dropping Mike off we hit accident-traffic and Henry was SO PISSED because he needed to get back to work and once again I was ruining his life, lol.

I didn’t feel like liveblogging and also Henry and I were listening to an audiobook like the lamest empty nesters who ever emptied their nest BUT we just stopped for lunch at a cute vegan spot called ROOTED VEGAN in a small Indiana town called ANGOLA. Props to me for finding it – Henry continues to do fuck all on the food finding front.

Ok first of all, the woman behind the counter was friendly and patient while Henry squinted at the menu behind her and bristled his moustache like it’s a facial Magic 8 Ball ready to choose his food for him.

I got the bakn chikn wrap and Henry got the Nashville chikn wrap – I fucking BEASTED mine. It was just what I wanted and now I’m full but not painfully so, and will probably be able to skip dinner so yay for that because I always panic about eating before a concert!!

We also got a lemon crinkle cookie and a chocolate cookie sandwich straight PUMPED with pumpkin frosting. Hoooooboy it was rich and decadent and that nearly pushed me over the edge but then we went for a stroll around the cutie courtyard/square area before getting back in the car so that helped.

Dude, that car/truck thing.

This place was so cutie!

After I took this picture of Sojouner Truth, some young guy in a BURNT UMBER hoodie and disheveled ginger hair stopped by and said, “That guy was a pedo.” He was pointing to another statue, and I felt like I needed to take a picture of it so as I walked over, he followed me and said, “Yeah he was gay but it was the 1800s so he couldn’t really do anything about it you know.”

I said something along the lines of “ya don’t say” but like, less 1950s and more modern times.

The Angola Pedo.

Then he continued along his way, stopping at each business and handing out a paper of unknown subject matter.

“Wow, I basically got a tour,” I said and Henry laughed REALLY HARD which disgusted me because it wasn’t funny at all.

IT’S BEEN REAL, ANGOLA.

P.S. I just went back and looked at that statue and that dude died in 1790-something so that guy gave me FAKE NEWS.

I was really thinking about my beer journey over the weekend and I truly think that the reason it took me so long to develop a taste for it is because I didn’t go to college (well, in the conventional sense) so when my friends were at frat parties, pinching their noses and choking back Solo cups of Bud Lite until one day they didn’t have to hold their noses anymore, I was living a cozy lady-of-leisure life in my apartment at age 18, making my mom buy my cases of wine coolers and other fruity sparkly fancy things for my classy house parties.

(LOL classy. Mm.)

I didn’t need to learn to like the taste of cheap beer because I had a mom who was buying me cases of those cute little Spumanti thingies.

And then when I was 21 and going to bars, I was naturally gravitating toward mixed drinks and—Lord help me, my waistline, and my teeth—Smirnoff Ice.

Then as I got even older, it was wine and cider. I didn’t care about beer until dicks worldwide were being Q-tipped over PUMPKIN BEERS. I tried so har but every single one just had that jolting BEER taste that I couldn’t stand.

I don’t know what exactly the pivotal point was for me, maybe it was taking baby steps through the dessert / milky beers, but I am suddenly OK WITH THE BEER TASTE ON MY TONGUE. Yes, there are still some where I’m like, “This was fine but I never want to drink it again.” But after I had that Delirium and the Duchesse Red last weekend, I was like, “IS IT BELGIAN BEER, THEN???” Disclaimer, both of those beers I had were very sweet and fruity, lambic-esque varieties. So Henry was skeptical.

Then I watched a YouTube video of this couple drinking a variety of Belgian beer and they were like DISGUSTED and spitting out a lot of them, including the OG Delirium which I had been excited to try prior to watching this video. Now I was SHOOK. This couple seemed like they were beer people and they were like legit gagging and saying horrible things about the beers from my second homeland (speaking of my first homeland, Korea – I liked every local beer I tried in Korea, just putting that out there).

Anyway, we stopped at Duffy’s on Saturday and I was like a fucking kid in a candy store. (OMG am I an alcoholic now….no. No, this is still hobby-levels. Don’t worry.) I snatched up the OG Delirium, and also a fun pink-canned one called Deliria. I also had Trappist beers on the brain, so I grabbed one of those too.

Yo, I was was scared to try this after watching that video BUT OK! OK HELLO! I SEE YOU, TREMENS! This was AMAZING. Like, I actually clapped my hand over my mouth after it hit the back of my tongue and Henry looked VERY CONCERNED, time stood still, like he was waiting for me to spit it back out like a fountain fish.

But shoooooo — this was so good. Like, I can’t even explain it. It had a crazy bite to it but it was also SO REFRESHING!?

“THIS IS MY STYLE!” I cried, and Henry unclenched and exhaled.

YES. YES YES YES YES. I am at “PUT THEIR NEON SIGN ON MY WALLS” levels of Delirum obsession. I can’t wait to try the other ones and the CHRISTMAS ONE TOO!!!

I NEED THE SPECIAL DELIRIUM GLASS!!!!

And obviously I can’t consider myself a Belgian girlie if I don’t like TRAPPIST BEER so I tried a bit of this one after work and OH HO HO HO HO HO, I”m just your regular monk groupie, over here. This was so good! Not Delirum-good, but I genuinely liked it!! I don’t even know who I am anymore?!

I was watching a video about this beer while I was drinking it and they said it smells like bananas AND IT DOES. I never can taste/smell the “notes” that people claim to be in wine. But it’s easier with beer.

I guess.

I don’t think Henry believes me.

Honorable non-Belgian mentions:

This was OK!

This was OK! (Henry hated it though. I think my palate is clearly just more masculine than his.)

Oh holy shit, what even was this? It did NOT taste like beer, it was liquid dessert. I loved it. 10/10 would recommend but too bad it’s not Belgian.

(I loved the foam! I actually love all beer foam and it makes Henry mad because I “don’t pour the beer right” on purpose because I want the foam to happen. Anyway, this beer had REALLY dense and sweet foam and I was scooping it up with my fingers. Now I want to try their Rainbow Sherbet one!!!)

OK, off to learn Flemish and add Trappist beers to my Untapped wishlist. I’m not like other girls.

L-O-L.

(But no srsly if you ever need a hostess gift for me – Belgian beer, babe. Bring it.)

I’ve been on this kick of printing out pictures of the three of us to frame, starting with our last trip to Korea and I am sad that we didn’t take more family pics. These are the only ones I have of all three of us together :(

I’m counting down to when we’re all together again, this is such a weird transition and really nothing prepares you for it!

This is your friendly reminder to take more pictures with your family, pets, etc. (and also, if you ever need to buy me a present, I am always accepting pictures frames of any size!).

We had plans to go to Castle Blood with my sister Amy and bro-in-law Dick on Friday and I was so stoked. I love it when people are down for haunted houses! I mean, I’m glad that Henry will go with me, but it is so much more fun when we have a group. Amy suggested hitting up a brewery first and I was game because the ERIN IS LEARNING TO LIKE BEER est. 2011 era is in full swing.

There wasn’t anything aside from dive-looking bars (which are fine!) around Castle Blood, but I did end up finding a place around 25 minutes from there called Scenery Hill Brewing. Their web presence is pretty limited so we couldn’t even really tell what they had to offer, but the building it’s in seemed old and historical, which we like. Approved.

Well, turns out we were there during some Witch and Wizard event thing and the place was decorated AMAZINGLY. I don’t know what this joint typically looks like inside, but check this bitch out:

Amy and Dick were already there roaming about when we arrived and I had to laugh because Dick had the prettiest creamy pink drink in his hand and it looked like…not his style, lol. Apparently, he had ordered some blood orange beer but the bartender thought he ordered the “blood moon” cocktail, which I guess was the signature drink for the event, lol. He said it was good though! It LOOKED good. But I had to psychically slap my face and remind myself that BEER. We are here for BEER.

I ordered a PRINCE LUDWIG, whatever that means, because the very nice and patient bartender let me try it first. I tried it and I liked it! Henry looked doubtful when it was served to me in a big glass, but I took it away with confidence and then found us the best table in the whole place, in a corner and surrounded by all those creeptastic portraits.

PRINCE LUDWIG.

I forgot that in 2011 when I first started what everyone assumed was a futile venture into the world of liking beer, I had started an account on Untapped. I remembered this the other night and have frantically been trying to recall every single beer I have had since 2011, lol. Amy is also on Untapped so now I have a friend!

You guys, I truly liked this beer. I ordered it because LUDWIG sounded Maybe-Belgian, who knows. But this was the SCENERY HILL FESTBIER, whatever that means. I found it to be easy to drink, it made me pull zero faces, and it didn’t have a weird aftertaste.

The only downside, and this was a minimal complaint, is that this is one of those places with no kitchen, just whatever food truck rolls up that day. And on this day, it was some Italian truck with ONLY TWO MEATLESS OPTIONS: Fries and mozzarella sticks. Wow, thanks guys.

I got the mozzarella sticks and they were fine, but not satisfying and I was still very hungry.  I’m pretty sure they were just from a grocery store freezer section and dunked into the fryer. And there were only five of them, the size of a small thumb. I was quietly whining about this to Henry off and on all night.

Quietly.

“Quietly.”

LOL.

Ignoring my whines.

Then I got a flight – just a flight of three because Henry wasn’t going to be able to help me drink much since he was driving and no way could I drink 5 all myself. Anyway, this was a major moment for me because JUICETASTIC is an IPA and Henry is always like YOU WILL NOT LIKE THAT BECAUSE I DO NOT LIKE THAT but guess what, Hater Henry?  I sincerely liked it! I was shocked! Baby’s first IPA!!

I also learned that “MARZEN” is a type of beer. This one was OCTOBERFIESTA. I really liked it. I guess OKTOBERFEST drinks are my style!

And then also the SERENDIPITY which is a pale ale, whatever that means. Also very inoffensive to the palate! Gentle on the taste buds!

I really like hanging out with Amy and Dick! We always have so much to talk about and it’s such easy and comfortable. Which is what I need more of in life!

Bathroom selfie!

This place was so cool. There was a witch scavenger hunt going on too so every so often, people in witch gowns would come near our table and loom over us but it never seemed like anyone found anything on their paper over in our corner.

I loved this place so much. The staff was great, the atmosphere was haunted, and the drinks were pleasing! We plan on going back, especially in summer because we saw a spacious patio area, but hopefully the food truck game is stronger next time because this bitch needs to EAT.

Hey, it’s me, your least favorite Internet Sad Sack. I was (am, I AM) having a decent day but then I watched the Seventeen M Countdown comeback stage and it made me cry and feel overwhelmed with sadness again.

Janna made me feel comforted though because when I told her that I am genuinely scared to see Seventeen next week, she said that now this is something that Bambi can be there for too. I mean ouch but also aw!? This is such a peaceful way to think about it. Thank you, Jananananamanadanamdbam.

I don’t know if I have mentioned this, but we hung this Bambi memorial shelf right next to my work desk so sometimes I will reach over and put my hand on the Bambi box. I really wish that I could say that things are getting easier, especially for anyone who might be reading this looking for hope, but jfc it stings so much still on a daily basis. Every time I walk in the house and say, “Guys, I’m home” and have to thwack myself on the side of the head because the plural doesn’t apply here anymore.

The paper cranes were made by Chooch the week she died – he would make one and leave it on my work desk. He stopped at three, but I appreciate that he even made that many before losing steam! The green cat at the top was made my friend Lyda’s son. <3

I hate not being able to see her face in real life, I hate it so much.

The little tangerine fabric thing under the frame is a piece of what my Bambi tattoo was wrapped with. I thought I should keep a piece of it because that tattoo was part of the healing process.

The vet made this paw print mold for us. ;(

A jar of some of her fur. This is hard. We still have some left (the vet gave us an envelope of it) and I think I want to send some away to have it made into jewelry. I also want to do that with some her ashes, but that is really hard for me to think about still.

This box was provided by the cremation place, and it is fine for now but maybe I might want to upgrade to a nicer vessel someday. Again, it’s really hard still. I was a mess just looking for the fur receptable on Etsy.

OK bye.

We had a good weekend. Every time I can say that these days, it feels like an accomplishment. The day before was a bad day. I kind of slipped and fell back into the really bad sadness and it was scary, but I woke up on Friday and felt OK. I felt happy that we had plans for a haunted house that night. It doesn’t really seem that big, but these dumb things have been such a mammoth part of my life since the 90s and even though it’s few and far between these days when one sincerely scares me, I still have fun at most of them. I still enjoy writing in my haunted house journal (I bought Halloween washi tape from Amazon a few weeks ago, and Halloween stickers from Target last weekend! I’m like a little kid sitting here with my tongue peeking out from the side of my mouth as I carefully place scary accoutrements on the pages of my idiot journal, lol).

(ONE DAY, THESE WILL ALLLLL BE CHOOCH’S TO CHERISH!!! What a fun and worthless Will I am going to have.)

We only went to one haunt this weekend but it was a good one! And somehow, it was also a “new-to-us” one – Eerie Acres in the Butler County area (aka Trump’s Paradise, ugh). I have seen this one advertised for years but it never makes the list for some reason!? This year though, there was a Groupon for it and Henry and I are suckers a deal (haunted houses are expensive, people).

I already briefly mentioned this, but Helltown Brewing was there and we shared a can of their Oktoberfest while sitting near a bonfire waiting for our group number to be called and it was….really nice.  The epitome of an October evening, you know? Good weather, autumnal vibes, not-too-annoying people, excellent Halloween party pop music playing. Even though I was there with Henry (LOL), it was a good time! And the haunt itself was old school and had lots of opportunities for me to interact with the monsters and develop crushes (there was this alien….).

I kept taking pictures of us to send to Chooch who was not giving a shit because he’s living his best life in Philly right now and completely not missing his totally cool mom and embarrassing dad.

Ew, lol.

I dunno, empty nest life is OK so far. I feel like this was what we were doing the last few years anyway, with Chooch working and not really going to haunted houses with us anymore. UGH, it is still tough to reconcile though!

Later that night, I sent this picture of Penelope watching NCT Dream content to Chooch :) Note Henry’s bottle of FAYGO ROOTBEER in the background, such a dad bev.

Saturday started out dumbly. Well, no scratch that – it started out good because we swung by Megan’s to check on her cat, Penny, and Megan had left us a container of freshly-baked cookies with white chocolate chips and they were HEAVENLY. So that was a nice start to the day, also when Henry spilled my piping hot Dunkin’ coffee on his forearm in the car – that was also part of the “nice start to the day.”

(For me, anyway!)

Then we drove to HOUSTON, PA which is in WASHINGTON COUNTRY (see also: Trumpville, similar to the aforementioned Butler County) for a pumpkin festival. Just for something to do, it’s October, get off my basic back. Anyway, it was supposed to start at 10am, and there was also a parade starting at 10am but what wasn’t posted anywhere was the fact that the parking lot was literally blocked off to all access because of the parade – cop cars were blocking off every street that we would have needed to take to get there. AND HENRY THOUGHT HE WAS SO SLICK KNOWING ALL THE ALTERNATE ROUTES. Well, the parade gods were like, “LOL you thought. Not on our watch, sonny boy.”

This took about an hour out of our day and I was so pouty about it too, especially when Henry was like, “OH WELL WE TRIED” and just…started driving home?? Without a discussion? Without a sidebar at a local cafe over a seasonal latte and baked good?! Ooh, I was simmering. I glared out the passenger side window the whole way home. Actually, I even put on my headphones and listened to an audio book (I was near the end of A REALLY GOOD HORROR BOOK) like a moody teenager.

But then we got home, and it started raining so I guess it was good that we didn’t stay. Henry knew he was in trouble though so he started working on refurbing our doorbell to play the Kraftwerk song that I have been hounding him about for years, probably since we adopted Trudy. This appeased me greatly.

That night, we watched THANKSGIVING and I was so pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed it! It was the perfect blend of tongue-in-cheek and actual terror. That Addison Rae broad is in it and I had never heard of her until a few weeks ago and so I decided to watch one of her music videos and OK, but no.

Sunday. Sunday Sunday Sunday. Oh yeah, I met Pam at 802 Coffee on the Blvd and that was nice. I had cat-sat for her recently (apparently that’s what I do now, while I am still deep in mourning but that’s fine) and it was nice to just chat, I guess, except that she doesn’t care that I don’t like football and always wants to talk about that still.

Maybe I should just counter with kpop news every time she does that.

I got pumpkin chai at 802 because I am disappointed with their coffee and it was actually ok.

(Wow, I have been trying to write this throughout the day and I am in such an absolute shitty mood, I feel like I need to break several (pallets of) glasses. I am really so sick of everything tbh lol ugh fuck everyone.)

Ok slapped myself in the face and now I’m back. Nothing else to really report from the weekend. We went to Target. That was boring. We walked to Potomac Station because they have a sweet potato casserole latte for Pgh Coffee Week. I was disappointed. I had amazing sweet potato lattes in Korea and have yet to find any place here that makes comparable versions. So that was a waste of money but at least I got some steps in.

I guess.

But ugh I almost forgot I wanted to die because when the Potomac guy asked Henry if he wanted any flavor in his iced coffee, Henry was looking at the menu and goes, “Mmmmmm….horchata.”

The guy – and it’s this old man who is usually there when we go on weekends so he has to recognize us which means I can never go back – goes, “That’s….a drink.”

So Henry tried to play it off, like he meant to ask for brown sugar cinnamon instead.

Now, as this was playing out, I was only half-paying attention l because I was looking at the baked goods. So afterward, I whispered, “Did you just try to get horchata in your coffee as a flavor?”

“Uh huh!” Henry said loudly and confidently.

“You are so embarrassing!” I cried, and then texted Chooch about it later whose response was, “ugh he is so embarrassing.”

Mm, then we ended the night with another episode of the Menendez season of Monsters and I am just so disturbed. I remember the trial from when I was a kid but literally knew nothing other than two rich kids shot and killed their parents. Never knew the full story and now I wish I didn’t.

Well, now we’re going to Dunkin to see how bad they botched their version of an ube-flavored coffee drink.

Maybe I need therapy twice a week instead of just once.

UPDATE: Now I’m standing outside of Dunkin because I accidentally ordered an iced version of what I wanted and I almost started crying in the middle of the store so Henry went back in to get me a hot one god I just hate myself and everything around me. I ruin everything.

Today was a day. Just another day. But it was also Seventeen comeback day! Not too stoked on DJ Khaled’s involvement but the song itself is A JAM.

I can’t believe I’ll be seeing them in one week!!

In other Today News:

• I wanted to have horror movies on as background noise while I was working through another nightmare day. I was in the mood for some Italian giallo shit and saw that Tubi has a whole category for it so I put one on without really looking and the proceeded to work. At a certain point, I became aware of sexy saxophone music playing so I turned around just in time to see an explicit – yet tasteful!!!! – sex scene. I kind of chuckled and then went back to work. But then Henry came home during what was probably the 8th sex scene – this time it was a solo scene –  and was like THE FUCK ARE YOU WATCHING and that’s when I realized that hahaha it was basically arthouse porn and I wonder if anyone was walking by and caught a glimpse through the window. Eh. That’s Monday for you.
• Henry made me really terrible carrot soup (I have been on a glorified hot baby food kick lately for dinner – I go through phases, let me live my life) tonight and now I feel like I am ruined and never want to eat carrot – or any veg puree – soup again. Thanks, Henry.
• It is imperative that I find an exercise routine again. My body really needs it and I genuinely miss it. I just haven’t been the same since, you know. The Summer of Sadness. Anyway, I was hoping that if Henry is my workout partner, maybe I will be more motivated to get back on the saddle, as they say, except that I would never have been on the saddle in the first place – I won’t even ride a bike because I hate it feels on my groinal area! Anyway, we did a strength and cardio workout on YouTube after dinner and there was a guest person on the thingie – some pregnant veterinarian – and the main workout broad was going on and on about how this bitch does something with cork board and I was like, “OK, weird brag, but cook on” until I realized she was saying THE PORK BOARD which is some meat lovers org I guess, and she was peppering the viewers with “PORK FACTS” throughout the workout?! I was getting so pissed. At one point they were talking about how many piglets a pig can birth and how cute they are and I screamed, “YEAH SO CUTE YOU CAN’T WAIT TO FUCKING EAT THEM YOU ASSHOLES” and Henry was like “Easy.”
• The weather was so grim today that I did not leave the house once today (except for when I went in the backyard to visit my only friends, the squirrels and bunnies) and instead got all of my steps from walking in place. My life is so pathetic.

And because RIIZE needs our support, if you’re a stranger on the Internet who randomly found this by Googling “vintage Italian arthouse porn” and you made it this far into the blog, then take a few minutes and watch this music video. KPOP has been rife with drama and scandals….well, since always but it feels extra lately.

I don’t why I have spent so much of my life caring about my beer-averse palate, but it has been something of a challenge for me over the last, god, 2 decades at least. I guess it really started once pumpkin beers became the big craze. I wanted to like them, I wanted to be able to join in when my friends would give each other recs. Kind of dumb, because I genuinely don’t even care about drinking any type of alcohol in general.

I kind of gave up on this palate-training expedition, until Henry and I went to a bottle shop last year because it was autumn and lo, I was on that pumpkin hunt again. While there, I stumbled upon a PB&J beer from a local brewery called Hitchhiker. I also liked that the can was tall and cool-looking. Henry was like YOU WILL NOT LIKE THIS but I think really he just did not want to get it because it was “expensive.”

Long story short, I loved it and declared it my favorite beer (I mean, short list there) of all time.

“YEAH THAT’S BECAUSE IT HAS MILK AND SUGAR IN IT. IT IS LITERALLY A DESSERT BEER,” Henry sighed because he is always on standby to suck the joy out of life. I mean, we all called him Hoover in the LiveJournal days for a reason, didn’t we guys??

This has started a trend where, every so often, Henry will go to Hitchhiker, or Giant Eagle, and buy a 4-pack of whatever sweet and fruity flavor is on rotation. And then after we split one, the rest will sit in the fridge for weeks upon weeks until I am ready to have another one. LOL. I go through phases.

ANYWAY. I have not really ventured into “other” Hitchhiker varieties (I am terrified of IPAs because they literally taste like asparagus piss to me and this seems to be their bread and butter) but they recently released a pumpkin beer and I made Henry pick it up for me. (I am not the biggest fan of actually going to breweries because I get very fidgety and prefer drinking at home if at all, though I will go with my sister!)

I don’t have a picture of it because I actually did drink all of them over the span of 2 weeks! I really liked it and was surprised because it was way less sweet and more “beer”y than the ones I tend to gravitate to. So this opened up my pumpkin beer challenge again.

I’ve had these ones recently and actually like them all!

1. Cinderlands Star Crumb
2. BG Brewing Pumpkin Slap
3. North Country Brewing Late Night Pumpkin (my fave out of this collection)
4. Ellicottville Pumpkinville Latte

I learned several years ago that I sort of like sour beers.

Thanks, Lisa lol.

We also have this babe leftover in the fridge from a recent Hitchhiker run, and a raspberry with coffee one too that was actually MAYBE my new fave Hitchhiker??

Then! At a haunted house on Friday, a local place called Helltown had a little beery hut set up and I was like, “LET’S JUST SPLIT ONE” because I get stupid real fast. Henry said I wouldn’t like any of the options they had but I was like LET ME BE THE JUDGE, I WILL HAVE A CAN OF YOUR FINEST OKTOBERFEST, MISS and the lady was like “Great.”

(This was after she asked me if I had heard of them and I said yes, which is the truth because last Sunday when we were driving some insane backway home from the haunted house in West Virginia, and before Stephanie Time, we drove past one of their locations in Washington County. Then the lady proceeded to still tell me all about the brewery while also trying to get me to add a KOOZIE to my purchase and look, I am not at KOOZIE-lcvels of beer imbibing yet. Or ever.)

I took one sip and screamed I LIKE THIS, I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS and Henry just smirked at me and was like, “It’s OK.” And then I proceeded to drink most of it and have one of the best times at a haunted house.

Which….now makes me sound like an alcoholic.

Anyway, I was inspired after this and Henry suggested going to Duffy’s to see what their pumpkin selection was like, but you guys, I felt ready to branch out now that my lie about liking Oktoberfest beers was actually fact-checked and proven to be TRUTH.

We did the build your own 6 pack thing and I was excited to try this one last night. It was just OK. I drank my half but never want to drink it again, probably.

Then later that night, Henry and I split this one and I genuinely liked it!

Um, but hold the phone. I have an announcement to make.

MOVE OVER HITCHHIKER, DELIRIUM IS MY NEW #1.

I barely let Henry share this with me. I was screaming, that’s how excited I was over this.

“DO I LIKE BELGIAN ALE NOW??” I yelled, shaking Henry by the shoulders and then putting on YouTube videos about the Delirium brewery. “OMG ARE WE GOING TO BELGIUM??”

I could tell Henry was about to ask if I genuinely thought liking one can of beer warranted a trip to another country but then he remembered who he married.

I was almost to the point last night where I wanted to buy stock in Delirium, or at the very least, put their neon sign in my house.

And then tonight I tried the other “accidental” Belgian beer that I got just because I liked the Bathory-esque portrait on the can.

Yeah, I’m Belgian now. (This was actually a bit too sweet for me though if you can even believe that I’m saying that!)

Anyway, now that I think about this, it does make sense because we used to go to this restaurant occasionally called SHARP EDGE (RIP, babe) and it was basically known for its huge selection of beers. I always went for the vibes and food, but since everyone I went with was inevitably ordering beer with their food, I would always default to the Lambics. I didn’t even realize it was actually beer because it was so sweet and fruity (I usually gravitated toward the framboise variety).

I created a new category on here so that I can post pictures along my beer journey to remember what I’ve tried and what I thought. For instance, last year we bought a 4-pack of some kind of pancake-flavored beer and it was fucking disgusting. We still have cans in the fridge. I need to remember to never fall into that syrupy trap again.

Henry sadly pointed out that so far, all of the beers I have truly liked have been expensive craft beers and/or imports. I can’t help it. I’m fancy.

Sunday night truly took a turn. Henry and I had a really great time at the haunt we went to in West Virginia, but we had to take a detour on the way home because of major traffic on the usual route. This was fine, but it put us on some gnarly rural backroads during a lightning storm which was cool but also…not cool? We were even warned by the super townie clerk of a gas station to BE CAREFUL OUT THERE as we were checking out.

Then Henry, the Profesh Driver, got us lost-ish! He tried to play it off like he knew the whole time. “I shouldn’t have turned by that Circle K…” OK save it for your memoir, Henry.

Anyway, this, in addition to an impromptu pit stop at Walmart (ugh) set us back a good 45 minutes. And maybe you don’t believe in things happening for a reason, but I do. If none of this had happened, we wouldn’t have been on Potomac Avenue at the exact moment a woman was stumbling along the sidewalk, using storefronts as a crutch to hold herself up. Henry and I both groaned at the same time, because OH BOY public intoxication. But then I shook my head and said, “No, we should stop and help her. It’s not good for an incapacitated woman to be out here at night, alone.” Henry didn’t stop though because Henry doesn’t care about women. So, now we were at the red light at the end of Potomac, and he was like, “No, I am being a good Samaritan by watching her in the rear view mirror, you see” and OK cool? But now she was fucking ON THE GROUND, you guys, like she literally couldn’t even walk without the support of a wall.

“You have to turn around,” I said as the light turned green, and I could tell this was the last thing he wanted to do, being literally ONE MINUTE away from our house. But, he turned around and pulled to the side of Potomac just in time for us to see her fall again, while a couple crossed the street to get away from her.

I thought Henry was going to come with me, but he stayed in the car because he “didn’t want to scare her,” OK whatever you say big guy.

When I approached her, she had just made it to the restaurant formerly known as MeKong (please reference below map) and was teetering on the curb, about to cross in front of a car at a stop sign.

“Excuse me, are you OK?” I asked her, tentatively approaching. From the car, I thought she was a woman in her 60s but now I could see that she was much younger – late 20s perhaps. She had that 1990s Kerrie Strug gymnastic hair cut which made her look like an old lady from afar.

Hearing my voice made her abruptly veer toward me and when I say I almost screamed and ran…..her face was bloody, which I was NOT expecting, and she reached out her arms and started shambling toward to me like a zombie. She fell against me and Inner Erin was shrieking “HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT” but Present Erin was like STAY CALM, DO NOT FREAK THIS BROAD OUT.

I asked her where she was trying to go and she said Albert’s, which is a bar at the top of Potomac (past Molly’s, across the trolley tracks, and across the street). This is not a far walk by any means, but this girl was FUCKED UP, you guys. And it didn’t take me long to realize that it was not alcohol, and maybe not even drugs. She looked like she had been beaten, and very recently.

I got her safely across one street to the next block, where she fell again. I am not a strong person. I kept looking around frantically for Henry, who was continuing to do his civic duty by sitting in the car and supervising, I don’t even know but allow me to be a wimpy woman for a second and say that a man’s muscles would have been helpful in this moment.

I was able to pull her up and get her to a bench across from Jmart. I deposited her on the bench and knelt down in front of her, trying to get her to help me understand what was happening.

First, I told her that I wanted to call 911 but she FREAKED OUT. She was like, “No! No no no, I don’t want to embarrass myself, please don’t call.”

Then, I asked if there was anyone I could call for her to help her. I really didn’t think taking her to a bar in her condition was a good idea?! She had said there were friends there that she was meeting, but then she said she DIDN’T have any friends here, that she moved her from Southern California, she had gotten in a fight with her “man.”

THERE IT IS.

“Did he do this to you??” I asked.

She said no, she did it to herself. That she tries so hard to be perfect, and it doesn’t matter. She is so stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

I’m not a big people-y person but this was breaking my fucking heart. She was sitting on this wet bench, her tears mixing with the blood on her face, me trying to throw up at the sight of blood while trying to fill her head with affirmations of her worth.

“I can’t leave him. I’m not from here. I don’t know anyone,” she cried, knocking her glasses off onto the ground. When I picked them up for her, I noticed she was wearing two different boots.

:(

I asked her again if her boyfriend did that to her face. She firmly said no.

But she admitted that he was the one she was trying to get to at Albert’s.

Now I REALLY didn’t want to take her there!!! But she wouldn’t tell me where she lived. And I’m sorry, I wanted to do the right thing here, but taking her back to my house was not an option. I am a fucking sponge for people in need. I try to act like I don’t give a shit about people (and honestly, animals over people every day of the week) but the fact is, I am a goddamn bleeding heart. I was literally one bad decision away from this stranger living in Chooch’s vacant bedroom.

“What is your name?” I asked her, trying to get her to stay with me because now that was seated and not focused on walking, it seemed like she was about to spiral out.

“Stephanie,” she cried in a slurred baby voice. I introduced myself to her and she said, “Erinnnnnnnn. Thank you for your compassion.”

I couldn’t leave this girl sitting on a bench, I didn’t know where she lived, she was refusing potential assistance from paramedics/police. So, our only choice was to get up and keep walking to Albert’s. At the very least, she would be off the streets. That was my main concern at this point.

Meanwhile, there were people walking by here and there, and did any of them stop to ask if we were OK? ONE person. And when I said, “No!” and made pleading eyes, he just kept walking!

Stephanie was now opening up to me about a brain surgery she had had.  I am not sure if this was recent, but she said it was why she was having trouble walking (“Vertigo.”) but I am going go ahead and assume that she was concussed. She could barely walk a few feet without crumbling to the ground and nearly taking me with her every time.

I was taking everything with a grain of salt. I try not to be gullible. But what is the point in lying about a brain surgery? Was it even necessary to try and get further sympathy from me when I was already committed to helping her? She even tried to show me the scar on her scalp and I was like burping back my disgust while saying, “NO THAT’S OK I BELIEVE YOU.” When I say that I have spent ALL WEEK replaying this and dwelling on everything she said to me….

Anyway, now Henry is parked further up the street, across from where I am now tandem-shambling with Stephanie, like the worst So You Think You Can Dance audition. I made eye contact with him and mouthed, “A LITTLE HELP, PLZ!” but he claimed later that he “did not realize” I “needed help.” And that it looked like I “had everything under control.”

OMFG. FUCK OFF.

Yeah, I had everything under control until we got to the trolley tracks and she FUCKING FELL ON THE TRACKS. One trolley had JUST gone past and we were on that side of the tracks so I wasn’t too panicked but also UM YOU ARE ON THE TROLLEY TRACKS, PLEASE GET UP.

Henry saw this but was now back in motion, trying to find a new place to park the car. I truly don’t understand why he didn’t just leave the car in one of the other street spots he was sitting at and just walk!?  I DON’T UNDERSTAND HIM SOMETIMES but phew was I angry about this later on in the week when the adrenaline was wearing off and I was starting to QUESTION THINGS.

WHY ARE MEN SUCH ASSHOLES.

SPEAKING OF MEN BEING ASSHOLES. There were NUMEROUS men who had walked down from the trolley platform. Most walked right past us with nary a glance. One big man asked if I needed help and I said, “YES! PLEASE!”

BUT HE KEPT ON WALKING.

What the actual fuck??

And then these angel babies, the beautiful goddamn humans – a guy and a girl couple – stopped and said, “OMG do you need help??”

“Yes, please,” I said, near-tears. They both grabbed one arm each and gently pulled Stephanie back up on her feet. I thanked them profusely and said that I was trying to get her to Albert’s, which was now blessedly RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET. I could have left, I could have walked away, but I had to see this through to the end. I know she wasn’t my responsibility but at this point, I had begun to care about her and just needed to make sure she got off the street.

The man part of the couple walked Stephanie to the open door of Albert’s, which I could immediately tell was populated by Yinzer men shouting at “the game.”

“Anyone here friends with her?” the guy called out into the bar, while I filled in his girlfriend about the night’s events.

“Oh, shit! You don’t KNOW her?” she exclaimed.

“No, I* was driving past and saw her stumbling and wanted to make sure she was OK,” I said, explaining that I hadn’t found her on the trolley tracks (thank God) but way further down the street.

*(hey Henry, you wrote yourself out of the narrative by not getting your ass out of the car!)

“And you walked her all the way up here! That was very kind of you,” she said, and I needed to hear that because I wasn’t sure if this was stupid or not.

Now, some – forgive me – effeminate and small-statured man was walking to the door of the bar. He looked like a young The State–era Thomas Lennon and not intimidating at all. Did I get woman-beater vibes from him? No. But people show different sides behind closed doors…

He approached Stephanie slowly, with a look of shock, totally surprised to, what? See her in that state? Or see her in general? I heard him whisper, “What happened to you??” as he hugged her, and then they just stood there on the sidewalk in a weird half-embrace, staring at each other but not talking.

I….I don’t know. I don’t know what my gut was telling me here. “Don’t get involved”? “Knee him in the nuts”?

I did try to ask him if he did that to her, but they were in some bizarre zone and it was like no one existed on that sidewalk but the two of them. I stood off to the side with the couple, watching this, and they also looked skeptical. At first, it sounded like the boyfriend was going to take Stephanie home, but then they walked back into the bar together.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good place for her,” the man part of the couple said, and I agreed. I considered going inside too but the girl part of the couple was like, “Look, you did all you could do. You got her off the street.”

And I guess so. There is a line, you know? There’s being a good person and then there’s being fucking stupid and putting your own self in danger. One of my co-workers was telling me all the things she would have done and making me feel like I let down all of womankind but not, what? Fighting him? Risking getting shot, stabbed, punched out? Potentially bringing future violence to my home?! You just don’t know. Yes, I wish I had called the police but like Henry the Worthless Bystander said  – the police won’t do anything if she says that nothing happened.

I don’t have the full story. She said that they fought. That doesn’t mean it was physical (though – a fight is a fight and even if it’s “just verbal,” that doesn’t discount it from being abuse). Maybe she really had done that to her face herself. I mean, she fell numerous times while she was holding onto me for support, and we had seen her falling from the car when we first drove past. So, who is to say that those weren’t cuts and scrapes and a busted lip from her repeatedly hitting the pavement?? Henry asked me if I looked at the boyfriend’s knuckles and I can’t say that I did. Maybe if Henry had been there AND NOT CRUISING AROUND LIKE A PUSSY, he could have put his armchair detective skills to use.

Other things to consider: why would he take her inside the bar looking like that if he had done that to her, right? And also, I would hope that the bartender’s red flag would be raised and they would keep an eye on the sitch?!

When I say I tossed and turned that night.

Dammit.

I hope she is ok. I hope this isn’t really an abusive relationship scenario. I think of my own past abusive relationship and how things could have turned out so differently for me if we had stayed together. How there were numerous times when he would stop in the middle of the road and make me get out of the car and I would either have to walk home or find a payphone and call someone. It makes me so mad to personally witness so many people stepping around her, not lending a hand. That could have been me.

(Also, I love that the day before this, some old lady in the Giant Eagle parking lot asked us if we would get her a shopping cart and Henry practically pushed me into a ditch so that he could be the hero. Funny how he’s always the hero when I’m the one out there doing THE REAL WORK.)

Did I help her or did I deliver her to the lion’s den? I think I’ll wonder about this for the rest of my life.

“Autumn happens so that we’re reminded that everything has to die to be new again.”

Fuck you.

This should have been one of the best years of my life – I got married in Korea, Chooch graduated high school, we did some nice family road trips.

But no, it’s easily one of the worst. Every time I think I’m ok, I lose my mind with grief. I spent a solid 30 minutes this evening crying so hard in bed that I started to hyperventilate- I miss my cat. I miss my kid. I miss waking up and looking forward to things. I want to be ok again.

I write in here because I don’t know what else to do. People ask how I am and I say fine because I feel like everyone is so sick of me grieving. Literally have not felt this much grief since my Pappap died, what is wrong with me. I am broken.

So now I’m sitting here with my eyes swollen while Henry is baking healthy zucchini bread or something so when I eat my feelings it won’t be too caloric?! Because yes on top of everything I am still weighing myself every day because I have body image images, which we have started to touch upon in therapy so that’s been fun. Apparently, I am still extremely affected by the body-shaming my grandma used to do to me when I was a young girl girl.

Maybe therapy is helping but it is also making me feel so raw and exposed and literally all I do is fucking cry now, I’m in my salty & swollen face era. Today was a pretty significant set back.

Something weird happened Sunday night which I have no energy to write about yet but that has also been bothering me this week and I think it will help to write about it but I also feel like I am going to HARD judged because I have only told 3 people the story so far and one person DEF judged me harshly and that made me feel like shit but hey – at least I’m feeling things and I’m not numb and dead inside at the mo’???

But yeah, that incident definitely had me crying this week.

I am so fucking sick of crying. Truly.

…because I can’t remember. How effing sad is that. I would like to get a brain scan someday. Not like I’d know what I’m looking at but like…are parts of it melted?

1. Grim Root by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

Oh this was SO BAD. I definitely remember this because as soon as I saw the cover, my face involuntarily twisted into a scowl of disgust. Basically a Bachelor-type reality show films on location at a haunted house. The writing was so bad, like juvenile fanfic. Caricature-like characters, no one really to root for, cringey dialogue. I get that sometimes books are just meant to be read for fun and not to critique its depth, weight, or social commentary, but this wasn’t even that. 2 stars – being generous there. No jams.

2. The Good House by Tananarive Due

No THIS is how you do the haunted house trope. Due’s writing is rich and immersive. Descriptive but never boring. That’s a gripe I have with horror novels oftentimes – they’re 500+ pages because so much of it is atmosphere-building and let’s be real -that shit can be a snooze after a while. But this wasn’t that. A unique take on magic, family history, and haunted grounds. I was crying by the end of it.

I had to give it a 4 though because it didn’t bowl me over like The Reformatory did – that was a solid 5 and set the bar for Tananarive Due’s books for me from here on out.

3. The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir

Super quick read – chilling, but TRIGGER WARNING for cat deaths :( This broad is doing some concerning and mysterious things in her sleep – waking up with 40,000 steps on her health tracker, random bruises, blood of unknown origin on her hands. I was down for this.

(Just wish it didn’t have the cat stuff in it.)

4. Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

OMG people FREAK OUT over this book but I found it to be boring, not scary, and it had me rolling my eyes quite a few times. Almost all of my Goodreads pals gave this 4 stars. Did we read the same book? It was a low 3 for me and I was considering even dropping it down to 2.5. As a fan of horror, this didn’t even come close to getting the job done for me. Great cover though.

5. The Lake House by Sarah Beth Durst

Was this YA? If so, I don’t think I realized it when I requested it from the library. I thought the cover was compelling and haunting so I was stoked for this! Sadly, it was not what I was expecting. Essentially a deserted island survival tale with three teenage girls who, as expected, were completely annoying on the page. Pretty lame, overall.

6. My Lovely Wife by Samantha Downing

OK!  Here we go, things are heating up! This domestic thriller was SO GOOD. A true page-turner. Exciting. Great writing. I had a ton of fun reading this and isn’t that the whole point of reading!? I lose sight of that a lot lately.

7. Evocation (The Summoner’s Circle, #1) by S.T. Gibson

2 stars, barely. I had heard that this is like the Raven Boys series but for adults and I was really into this at first but it went downhill for me. Not dark enough. Confusing. Cringey. Insufferable characters.  I lost interest and once the big climax happened, I had forgotten what the plot even was lol.  On top of all that, it felt like I had started reading this in the middle of the series – like there was some strained history with some of the characters that was alluded to like it was supposed to have already been pre-known coming into this book. I won’t be continuing this series.

Also, people keep salivating over the cover but I think it’s fugly.

Raven Boys forever. This is not that.

8. The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Admittedly, at a certain point, I no longer knew what was going on but hello, this is Neil Gaiman and it was also narrated by him so it was very cozy and dreamy.

9. The Rich People Have Gone Away by Regina Porter

OK, I’m not usually excited about COVID novel but this one was wild. Enviable writing; captivating, interesting and flawed characters; satisfying moments when you realize whose stories connect. This book was unique and a solid 5 stars from me, Kiki.

10. The Main Character by Jaclyn Goldis 

Wow, this was…how do I say…..um. Far-fetched yet lacking entertainment. I don’t care to say anything else about this.

11. Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero

3.5. This was really fun and the writing was so quirky. Scooby Doo-meets-The Monster Squad vibes. (Also, that cover is exquisite!!)

12. The Clinic by Cate Quinn

3 stars. I finished this in the car on the way to Long Island for the DREAMIE concert and Henry was like, “What is it about” and I honestly didn’t even care to explain. Um, that is still the case.

13. How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix

A GRADY HENDRIX BOOK THAT I ACTUALLY LIKED??? Holy shit. It’s true. This was so close to being a 5 star read for me. I love the sibling dynamics. I actually FELT SCARED a few times which is a really hard feat when it comes to me and horror books because I am such a snob. But also, on top of everything, this was just a FUN TIME. I actually stopped at one point and had to make sure I wasn’t reading a T. Kingfisher book though because that is what this reminded me of – I love her (his? their?) quirky take on family dysfunction-meets-horror.

14. Summer of Night (Seasons of Horror, #1) by Dan Simmons

And then I finished the month with a 5-star horror book written in the early 1990s but set in the 1960s. Very Stephen King-ish, coming-of-age horror about a group of boys that ranged in age from 8 to 12, if I remember correctly, trying to figure out what the FUCK is going on at their now-abandoned school and across the whole town. Disliked the dog deaths. Why do pets have to die in fucking horror books?? It is so unnecessary. But overall, I was really into this book. However, remember what I said earlier in this post about how horror novelists in particular tend to get way too wordy when it comes to setting the scene, building the suspense, knitting the ambiance? Yeah, this one was like that. It would be swathes of text describing the layout of a fucking cornfield, like a book can’t get the HORROR stamp on it unless it pushes 500 pages, so we get a bunch of dry paragraphs that threaten to pull you out of the zone after a point. Or…is that just me? I want dialogue. I’m a talky-type of reader.

**********

Well, that’s all for September. Hopefully I get some scary reads in this month!?