Me, in the parking lot before The Cure concert: I’m just really tired of being a GIRLFRIEND for the last 22 years.

Henry: I don’t think you were my ‘girlfriend’ for that first year, though.

*******

One of my favorite things about the Erin&Henry (or, if you know us from the hallowed LiveJournal days: Ruby&Hoover) origin story is that when he started working at the place where I was the office manager from 2000-2004, I missed his inaugural week there because I was away seeing The Cure, my most favorite band in the entire world then and now, for the first time. So when he was being led around the office for introductions, all he saw of me was my empty desk while being told, “That’s our office manager, she’s away in Australia seeing some band right now.”

So, while my first impression of him was, “Wow, he looks like Michael Myers” as he walked away from me down a hall in his dark blue coveralls, his first impression of me was that I was some ultra fangirl groupie who drained her savings account to fly across the world alone to see a concert.

And have I changed? Mmm, nope! But the best part is that when we started dating a year later, he never once ridiculed me for my obsessions, but instead joined me on music festival road trips and too many worknight concerts at small clubs where we would then have to stick around to meet the bands because that was my routine. He has mostly just tolerated (at best) most of the bands I have obsessed over, but he genuinely became a fan of The Cure without any arm-twisting or pressure from me. I finally had someone that I could talk to about how they made me feel, which songs I used to lay on the floor and cry to while drinking Manischewitz out of a red goblet, what song I would want to play at my wedding. The things that no one before him cared about! For instance, when one guy that I briefly dated came over one night when I had one of the live DVDs on, and he said, “They’re really gay.” Um, bitch bye.

So when we managed to snag tickets for The Cure’s 2023 US tour, it suddenly occurred to me that what if Henry finally ASKED THE QUESTION THAT NEEDS TO BE ASKED. Look, it’s not a secret that I have been hounding his ass for the better part of the last 22 years. You know, I know it, he knows it. I want to get married. Shocking.

I can’t quite explain it, but I really felt like it was going to happen this year, like maybe he even had a ring. I mean, at this stage in life, the element of surprise isn’t really a factor anymore. Just get ‘er done, etc etc.

I started dropping super obvious hints, like, “This could be the last time we ever see the Cure. Wouldn’t it be amazing if something BIG happened? Something MEMORABLE?” C’mon, guy. Take the fucking hint.

Finally, it was THE DAY! The weather was shit, but we had seats under the pavilion at the Blossom Music Center so I wasn’t too concerned. When we went to find our seats, I started walking down our row and as I went to grab the seat closer to the middle, I looked up and saw that Henry had somehow gone around and was coming down the row toward me in an attempt at seat interception.

“Let me sit here,” he said, just as I was about to sit down.

“No!” I cried like a brat. “I want to sit here because it’s closer!” (I mean, barely closer, but you know how I can be.)

He mumbled something and squeezed past me (I didn’t even bother to move my knees to make it any easier for him, ha ha ha, typical Erin) and then sat in his bitch seat to the right. I thought this was really strange. No one was even sitting around us yet so it’s not like he was trying to avoid anyone. But then, because I’m dense and things sometimes take a second or 28,783 to sink in, it occurred to me that maybe he wanted to sit on my left for proposal ease?!

Still, I tried not to get my hopes up too high because we all know what happened when I thought he was going to propose on the boardwalk in Wildwood last summer.

(He was just tying his shoe, in case you missed it.)

The Twilight Sad came on and twilight sadly did nothing to stop the annoying two couples behind us from scream-talking loudly into the back of my head. Between the overall weird vibes of the crowd, anticipating The Cure, and wondering if Henry was going to finally ring me (finger, not neck, although I guess that also depends on the day…), I was on edge. Bigly on edge.

Almost immediately after The Twilight Sad’s set, the crew came out to set up for The Cure. Now I was really getting excited and nauseous. Pee jig central over in Row M. The Cure just hits differently. I always go into these concerts expecting to be drop-kicked into a pit of despair, and that’s OK. Sometimes, that’s what we pay for.

And then, a loud fizzle, and electricity flickered in and out followed immediately by a clap of loud thunder, none of that romantic rolling thunder business, either. This was a YOU’VE BEEN BAD crack of the belt from above.

And then, lightning.

And then, actual sheets of rain, straight up wet curtains, falling from the sky.

People were SCREAMING, Mary. This was some Lord’s Work happening at the Blossom Music Center.

As the crew was fleeing the stage, DANGER DANGER messages came up on the video screens, while the faceless spokesperson of the venue turned on the DISASTER MIC and instructed everyone under the pavilion to remain there while urging the people in the lawn to return to their cars until further notice. It was chaos. My brother was just arriving with his friend and I was frantically texting him to stay in his car and he’s like, “WHY ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE LEAVING??”

At this point, we weren’t even sure if the concert was going to happen. A guy two rows behind us was obsessively checking the storm radar on his phone and giving us updates. He said it was looking like it was going to pass through, so we stayed hopeful.

After about 45 minutes, A GREEN MESSAGE replaced the RED MESSAGE on the screens! Green is good!

And then The Cure came on! Immediately, the tallest guy in the all of the Cuyahoga Valley stood erect in front of me, so I finally granted Henry’s request to switch seats and proceeded to spend a large portion of the night with my left hand FULLY-FLEXED at my side in an attempt to manifest a ring sliding on down my dumb ol’ finger. THE finger. THAT ONE. I was so stoked, I just knew it was going to happen. I dropped so many clues for months to the point where it was like a fun little game that he seemed to also be playing so I thought, OK, we are COMMUNICATING, this is cute.

The Cure is cycling through song after song. All of these BIG SWELLING EMOTIONAL MASTERPIECES that Henry could have used as his soundtrack while doing the damn thing.

If Only Tonight We Could Sleep

Burn

Disintegration

Want

When they began to perform Play For Today, I just about lost my mind because IT WAS SO APROPOS. There is a line that literally goes:

and wait,

and wait,

and wait

for something to happen

YES, THAT’S ME. HERE I AM. ROW M, SEAT 17, WAIT WAIT WAITING FOR SOME FUCKING STUPID THING TO HAPPEN, RING FINGER FLEXED LIKE A FUCKING FLAG POLE.

At one point, I thought I saw him reaching into his pocket and I felt a JOLT of nervous anticipation, but calm down, everyone. He was just scratching his side.

One of my favorite songs played that night was Edge of the Deep Green Sea, which the crowd turned into a big party foul when NO ONE raised their arms when Robert sang “put your hands in the sky.” I started to raise mine, and then stopped halfway as I became stunned to see that no one around me, not even the people at the front of the stage, were joining in. Did I miss a memo? Do we not put our hands in the sky anymore? Usually, it’s something akin to the wave during this part of the song, with hands fluttering up left and right, but only saw a few arms shooting up. My brother and I were texting about this the next day, and he said, “I put my hands up like you taught me* and no one else did??” he said.

*(We saw the Cure together in 2008; my 4th time and his 1st so I made sure he knew about this beforehand! It’s always been one of my favorite parts of the process when it comes to Cure concerts.)

There was an awkward moment when Henry and I looked at each other and both said, “What?” at the same time but I was Very Annoyed with him and his lack of EVERYTHING, so I refused to commiserate over this. I mean, he wasn’t even trying to hold my hand at any point of the night, at the very bare minimum. It was like we were STRANGERS standing together at random. If you’re not ever going to be my husband, at least act like my BOYFRIEND. So, while I would usually grab his hand and forcibly wrench his arm into the air because he hates audience participation and I love to torture him, I didn’t do that this time. I was PUNISHING him.

He doesn’t know the behind the scenes of Erin’s Bratty Brain part of this story, so I’m sure once he reads this, he will have some things to say. I gotta be honest for the blog! Even if I’m not 100% conscious that I’m sabotaging something, I will still find a way. It’s built into me. I was raised on Days of Our Lives, for Christ’s sake, practically breastfed drama and conflict.

The lights came on. I started to shake, my body WRACKED with rage. I turned to Henry and quite frankly, it is a wonder that I was able to swallow back the Abaddon Choir threatening to blast out a guttural Viking metal rendition of Miley Cyrus’s “Flowers” from my mouth with the force of an uncorked fire hydrant.

♫♪I CAN MY BUY MYSELF FLOWERS, SHOVE MY RINGLESS HAND UP YOUR ASS.♫♪

Instead, I sizzle-hissed in an octave well above normal functioning person levels, “WELL, I GUESS TONIGHT WASN’T THE NIGHT.” In my own ears, I sounded like a very pissed off cartoon cat. Feral. Mewling.

And then my emotional volcano burst, 22 year’s worth of resentment and insecurities came squirting out of my eyeballs like hot wet salty lava, and I ran away into the crowd. It was completely apparent, I’m sure, to everyone around us that something DOMESTIC was playing out. Either that or people were thinking, “Wow, The Cure really made that broad mad!”

I was STALKING off through the pavilion, hands balled into fists at my sides, face scrunched up into one fucking UGLY mask of anguish – I know my ugly-cry face and it was definitely what I was wearing at that moment. I actually replayed this in my head on a loop for days afterward, hovering above my body and watching from above, and I can truthfully say that I am very embarrassed and ashamed by the way I was acting. (“That’s called ‘disassociation,’ Erin, and it’s a psychological disorder. I love how you’re just casually explaining it like it’s something that you just…do all the time??” one of my friends said when I was like, “Yeah, you know how you remove yourself from the situation and watch it play out?” LOL, oh.)

Henry never even bothered to stop me, which was infuriating because even though I told him to GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, I obviously also wanted him to NOT get the fuck away from me so that I could berate him further. So, I had to keep slowing down to let him catch up long enough for me to growl lovely sentiments such as YOU RUINED THE CURE FOR ME / I FUCKING HATE YOU / I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO COME HERE WITH YOU TONIGHT, I WANTED TO GO WITH MY BROTHER BUT STUPID ME THOUGHT MAYBE YOU WERE ACTUALLY GOING TO BE A REAL FUCKING MAN AND ASK ME.

You know, these types of things. Didn’t care who was listening at this point.

Imagine Pee Wee in the rainy alley after his bike is stolen, but me walking through the wet Blossom Music Center parking lot:

How can one man be so dense? How can one bitch be so stupid?

The walk back to the car was long and miserable. Everyone around me had that blissed-out post-concert high while my body was quaking as I tried to stop myself from sobbing. You know what that feels like. Weird squeaks were eking out of my throat the harder I tried to put a moratorium on the tears. It was just fucking miserable. Just try to imagine how it feels to be strung along for more than 20 years. No matter what Henry says, what excuses he has, he has strung me along.  That’s how it feels! And for all the people over the years who have said, “It shouldn’t matter, why does it matter, it’s obvious he loves you” – well, it does matter to me, it’s personal. It’s something that I have always wanted and the fact that I have been put in these awkward conversations over the years where I’m forced to defend my stance, it’s just been infuriating and deflating.

This is all going through my ABUSED MIND the entire walk back to the car, while I’m whispering things to myself like a lunatic (“Calm down, Erin, we can kill him later” / “I don’t fucking know where the car is” / “Even serial killers get married“), giving no fucks at this point how unhinged I look to the casual observer.

As soon as we both got in the car and the doors were shut, I covered my face and WEPT like I was in mourning. And in a way, I guess I was!  Because after blubbering “I’m so stupid, I’m so stupid” at least a dozen times, I looked at Henry and said, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m done.”

And in a voice that didn’t even sound like his, but that could also be because my ears were filled with the sound of static and RUSHING BLOOD, he quietly asked, “Then what am I supposed to do with this?”

There he was, sitting in the driver’s seat, holding the ring that I picked out, oh, TEN YEARS AGO.

I experienced a psychological snap right then and there. I was still full-body sobbing, but now I was also laughing too. My face, I’m sure, was smeared like a Kindergarten finger painting by this point, and I had a strong sense of the swollen state of my eyes. OK, I was psychotically laughing at this point, let’s be real. I could have gone one of two ways: just go with it and accept that I was being proposed to in a fucking parking lot, or rip his stupid face off.

I had no energy left to fight so I let him put the stupid ring on my dumb finger, still unable to stop laughing or crying. He was saying words. I wasn’t listening. I could still only hear the synapses snapping inside my brain. I know he was saying nice things, I know that he CLEARLY felt like shit, and I know that we were both marginally traumatized by the way things played happened.

“You have to say yes!” he said, and I realized that I was still just sitting there hysterically laugh-crying and performing the sniffle-hiccup combo of the advanced crier.

Of course, I said NO at first. :)

And then we didn’t get home until after 3am, because the venue allowed The Cure to play past curfew to make up for the delay and then it took nearly an hour just to get out of the parking lot. I actually don’t even know what time it was that the blurry, delirious proposal even happened because it was very close to midnight when we were walking (or, WAR MARCHING in my case) back to the car. So, it either happened on June 11th or June 12th, but after 22 years, who’s keeping track?

Henry’s version of the story is that he scoured the set list beforehand, in order to choose the perfect song to finally end the 22 year saga. He had chosen “Edge of the Deep Green Sea,” and the plan was for him to….wait for me to grab his hand and lift his arm into the air.

You know, the thing I intentionally didn’t do and then tried to play off afterward by saying it was because I was “holding my phone.” Not “trying to punish him.” Nope. Not that at all.

So, when that didn’t happen, combined with the rain delay changing the set list, his plan was sent into a spiral. He didn’t know what songs were going to be performed after that, and before he knew it, the show was ending with “Boys Don’t Cry” and then everyone was leaving.

He spent the whole show holding the ring in his hand.

I chose this ring 10+ years ago after finding a jeweler on Etsy who makes rings out of raw diamonds. I knew that was the style for me. I’m not a traditional Zales diamond ring bitch, and I like that this is rough and imperfect, just like our idiotic relationship.

But! It’s probably for the best that it happened the way it did because I have no idea where he got the measurement for the ring. It is way too big and imagine if his plan had been successful and then I flung it off my hand during the concert?!

I did ask him why he let me run away afterward, why he didn’t just stop me, explain the situation, and do it right then, and he said he was afraid I would throw the ring into the woods.

OK, understandable!

Also, we all know how hyper-critical I am. If he had managed to do it during the concert, I probably would have just spent the next 20+ complaining about the song he chose.

****

The next day, I asked Chooch (whose reaction was “nice. congratulations.”) if he wanted to see the ring.

“No,” he said. “I already saw it last year in Wildwood.”

WHAT.

Confirmed: Henry was definitely supposed to do it then. Our friends Alyson and Ryan knew about it and were stalking my Instagram with “ants in their pants,” per Alyson, but then it never happened. Henry let us all down!

“Where were you going to do it?” I asked him the other day, and he said in front of Mister Softee – ??? I mean, I like that ice cream place but I would have been like, “Really, this is where I finally got engaged?” if he had gone through with it.

So overall, I think I’m fine with the way the ring finally ended up on my idiot finger. In the car, parked in the Blossom Music Center lot, after a concert that almost didn’t happen because of a storm: totally traumatic and 100% on brand for us. Yeah, I’m OK with this. :)

Anyway, I need a big do-over since he pretty much ruined the entire concert for me so we’re going to see The Cure head-line Riot Fest in September. REDEMPTION.

(Apologies for typos and any nonsensical grammar issues – I have been writing this piecemeal since last week and am super hyper and crazed, still!)

Good morning from Cedar Point! Expecting it to be packed today as usual but at least it’s something to do.

Walking to SteVe, immediately.

Visiting Daddy on Father’s Day! Love you Papa SteVe!!

11:13am: Literally the best experience we had on SteVe. Wait was estimated at 40 min and it took less than that, no breakdowns while we were in line, and they let Chooch and me have the back. I love this stupid fucking psycho coaster so much!

Henry got front row and is so smug about it.

Now he’s making us wait in line for Maverick which is broken down and I hate this gamble!!! It almost never works out well for us.

me: new thing! Since I’m liveblogging let’s take a selfie in every line we wait in.

Thanks Chooch.

11:38am: Fuck you, Maverick. Moving on because I couldn’t take hearing the bitch in front of me talk about her basic bitch interests anymore.

11:54am ditched Henry, now in line for Iron Dragon 🐉

ALSO, Chooch hates my new selfie rule.

iron dragon was way FUNNER than I remember FYI.

12:45pm: got lunch at the new pavilion and the service was TRASH. the roll was the best part of the meal. Views are nice though!

They’re playing retro ragtag covers of shitty pop songs though and a Taylor Swift one is on now so that dragged down the lunch review.

Chooch bonded with a guy in the bathroom over the awful music. “I didn’t think they could make Taylor Swift worse.”

12:54pm Gatekeeper selfie!

everyone hates me!

That was the best Gatekeeper ride I’ve ever had!

1:29pm: Carousel line selfie!

1;51pm: Choochs phone just died and he wants to go home because now he will either have to talk to “us guys” or look at the sky LOLOL.

Waiting for out old car thing! Henry can’t hear.

We got the slowest car here and people are on our asses. Chooch is so pissed. He just said he feels like Janna lol hi Janna!

2:03pm: RAPTOR’S LINE IS LIKE 10 MINUTES!!

Ok I’m saying it: Raptor is my favorite B&M invert. I SAID IT.

now we’re in line for the new Wild Mouse which is an HOUR wait and the guys in front of me are wearing patchouli and chooch is being pissy.

Pissy “I wouldn’t be in a bad mood all day if I had a belt” Chooch.

3:08pm: Still in line. Some little kid the next row over tapped me on the shoulder and said excuse me you have a bug on your shirt and of course I always think I’m the butt of a joke so I panicked but I did indeed have a MAYFLY on my shirt so Henry got it off for me which then turned into me blaming Henry for not doing a better job guarding my person from bugs and other harmful things.

3:14pm: Still in line but maybe another 15? At least people here aren’t assholes like at Canada’s Wonderland.

I asked chooch if he is immediately going to add this to his spreadsheet and he said I CANT MY PHONE IS DEAD. lololol. Also “Call Me Maybe” is on right now!!

3:53pm: that was the best Wild Mouse I’ve ever been on! It was trimless! Henry bit his lip lol. We got the pink car!

Now we’re in line for Gemini which only I am excited for!

The way I have to beg for these selfies though.

ugh stupid Henry has to treat himself.

5:01pm:

Rode MaxAir, it was fine.

Now Chooch is spending money. He won a medium sized prize!

5:11pm: We left! Bye bye Cedar Point!

Some thoughts from the car:

• Raptor was a big highlight – from the delightfully enthusiastic dad & 2 kids in front of us to the overall fantastic ride, I declared that it was my second favorite ride in the whole park.
• SO MUCH TAYLOR SWIFT WAS HEARD TODAY.
• This was the first time we didn’t ride Millie and that felt kind of weird. We were actually only in that area once, even.
• This was the best ride I’ve ever had on Gatekeeper. I even grayed out!
• I got stapled on Gemini so that wasn’t very enjoyable.
• We didn’t ride Magnum! I will only ride it if it’s a station wait bc I do like it but it hurts!
• I thought the addition of Wild Mouse to the revamped boardwalk area was really cute and fits nicely with the theme. It just sucks that it’s such a short ride and will probably always have a long wait because even the shittiest Wild Mouses in other parks get notoriously long waits. But I thought the theming was super eye-catching and I also liked that they were playing legit beach music in that area. I did suggest to Chooch that they should play the Back to the Beach soundtrack and he rolled his eyes at me.
• Only lowlight really was MAVERICK (so sick of that one breaking down constantly) and the service we experienced at the new Grand Pavilion. The cashier was nice though, I should specify that the coldness was reserved for the people behind the food counter thing. Not a single person made eye contact with us or smiled. It made me so uncomfortable and I almost didn’t even want to order anything from there.
• The cookies were back to being good!! I feel like the last time we got them from the bakery they were really dry and stale. The snickerdoodles were sooooo MOIST today.
• Overall, it wasn’t really crowded there at all for a weekend. I wish we were had been staying over though so we could have stayed until close because I can only imagine how many more rides we could have made it on. Every time I checked the ride times, SteVe had never gone past 60 minutes which is unheard of. But I was content with the one ride we got on it this morning, especially since we only had to wait about 30 minutes!
• Maybe someday, someone will actually want to come with us?? I tried to get my brother to come with us but he promised our dad he’d go over for a visit and, oh yeah, I guess it was Father’s Day after all lol.

The end.

Sorry if you’re only here to get the SCOOP because today’s post is just photos from our early parking experience. Of course I was being a psycho about everything related to this day because it’s THE CURE and it’s not very often they come to the US and also the weather forecast was ABYSMAL for that day and I was panicking about the rain and merch lines, and GIVE THIS BITCH A PILL, WILL YA. Anyway, the option to pay $20 for early parking was available and the only reason I agreed that we should do it was because they said that merch booths would be set up in the lots and honestly, the convenience of not only snatching up what I want ahead of time but also being able to take it back to the car rather than keeping it with me all fucking night long was worth it.

This meant that we had to hang out for over 2 hours in the parking lot, but whatever. At least I was able to get my daily steps in, lol.

Here we are, sitting in the grass after securing my merch. I got two posters (one was show-specific and the other was for the entire tour) and a shirt. I was extremely content, especially since we didn’t have to wait in line. Oh, and all three of those things together cost the same as ONE SHIRT at a Kpop concert. Jesus.

(I still you, Kpop. You are still worth it to me.)

We went back to the car after awhile, making it just before the skies opened up and dropped torrents of rain on us. I’m glad that I’m obsessed with checking the weather constantly because we brought umbrellas and ponchos from home just in case. Henry was all, “We will probably be fine.” HE THOUGHT.

Me walking into the Cure concert with my happy Korean umbrella, LOL.

A FOREST.

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised with how smoothly entrance into the plaza was. I NEVER bring a purse to concerts anymore so we were able to skip right on ahead to the empty NO BAG line and made into the place in record time. But then then we still had another hour to kill before the rest of the pavilion opened up so that we could get to our seats. But one of the perks of being there early was that we got to hear soundcheck. We couldn’t see the stage because of the hillside but just hearing Robert’s voice and knowing we were in the same goddamn vicinity – holy shit, it made me tear up so bad.

OK on that beautiful note, I’m going to piss off and peace out. More on the actual concert, and “the thing that happened,” in my next post maybe possibly. I’m tired. :/

(BUT OMG I SAW THE CURE.)

Good evening. I’m going to apologize in advance to those who read this because there will probably be several posts this week about The Cure and I know it can be annoying AF when I drag shit out but…this is just how it is. Go to your room if you don’t like it.

I know I mentioned at the bare minimum twice that I got Henry and myself tickets to see The Cure for their current US tour and while I have been very excited for the day to arrive, I have also been extremely anxious because I know the effect their concerts have on me AND IT AIN’T ALWAYS PRETTY. I get emotional at concerts as it is but it’s next level with The Cure, man. Some people are able to go, drink a bunch of fucking beer, carry on like assholes and then forget about it the next day, but I will usually wallow in sadness, grief, and other emotions that the Germans probably have words for, but we do not here in America.

That being said, I woke up early on Sunday morning and found my temper COILED TIGHTLY, READY TO SPRING. Nerves, people. Nerves. I started a fight with Henry I M M E D I A T E L Y because he slept an entire hour longer than I did (I have no logic). He had to sit me down on the couch and say TAKE IT EASY but in a nicer way because he is an Erin-whisperer.

Cool story, girl.

We left for the Blossom Music Center-ish area around 10AM that day because (1) we wanted to get lunch and (2) we wanted to do the early parking option that the venue was offering because I was being an utter spaz about merch. (SPOILER: this is a thing that actually worked in our favor, thank the lord.)

We had chosen a place to eat in Akron called NOMZ because it had options for both of us even though it had quite an unfortunate name that was reminiscent of this weird ass girl (not in a good way, because we all know weird is often good!) that I knew from LJ who I would invite to my parties because I was convinced that she would someday grow on me even though she was like a smashburger of Daria and I Can Haz Cheezburger and all of my friends begged me to give it up.

Then it turned out she was racist so, bye bye.

This was inside an industrial-ish shared space on the ground floor of an apartment building. The whole place was called The Market I think, which, wow, how long did it take them to think that one up in the boardroom, right? We placed our order with a really nice young guy working the counter and let me tell you – he was one of the few things this establishment had going for it. First of all, Henry ordered the roast beef but they were out of Horsie sauce. He mulled it over but ultimately stuck with his choice and just got it with mayo instead. I  ordered the chipotle fake chicken sandwich and added fake bacon to it.

Then we sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. I’m not exaggerating when I say it took at least 30-45 minutes for our food to arrive, and this was after watching table after table get the wrong stuff sent to them. So my confidence was at grim levels. Not only that, but the barista / bartender at the bar behind Henry was consistently fucking up drinks and losing orders.

When our food did arrive, delivered by the recipient of The Market’s 2023 Employee with the Most Non-Existent Personality Award, I knew STRAIGHT AWAY mine was wrong. I mean, at the very least, it was still fake chicken, which was good because HELLO, but it was 120% not the chipotle sandwich. First of all, there was zero chipotle taste. Then it had cheese which mine wasn’t supposed to. Rounded out by the fact that it was on Texas toast (EXTREMELY GREASY TEXAS TOAST, at that – the napkins I went through was absurd) when it was supposed to be on a ciabatta roll. OH, AND WHERE WAS MY $4 UPCHARGE HOUSEMADE VEGAN BACON?!

First, because the world revolves around Henry, he had to take care of his own lunch mishap, which was the fact that the bland server delivered his potato salad side with no utensils. She mumbled something about getting him a fork and spoon, but when she dropped them on the table, the spoon had something on it! UGH.

Then he went back and told the NICE GUY about my order blunder and the guy came over and was like I AM SO SORRY but I don’t think it was his fault! He wasn’t the one making the food and our receipt had the correct shit on it. I had already started eating my fake-chipotle sandwich and decided it was a keeper mostly because I didn’t want to wait another 30 minutes for the right one to be made, but I did want the bacon.

#NotChipotle

OMG though, that vegan bacon was actually to die for. It tasted so good that I started to panic that it was real. Henry tried it and determined that it definitely wasn’t real bacon but “pretty close.” So, that definitely got them back some points.

I don’t know, that place was just weird. I was having regertz about not ordering an iced latte but after seeing how many people kept going back to the bar and asking for their orders to be corrected (or, you know, made in the first place since she seemed to be flat out misplacing entire drink orders), it was probably for the best.

Also? None of the 5 TV screens were unmuted, and no house music was playing so all we could hear the whole time was other diners mercilessly scraping their stools off the concrete floor. SHIVERS. I got to watch Novak win the French Open on mute, but at least there were captions.

I really hate how good my sandwich was though because I wanted to another reason to be mad at NOMZ.

God, I hate that name so much.

Bathroom selfie because I asked Henry to take a picture of me at the table because I liked my top and he of course made me look like a mongoloid.

We strolled around the shops inside the Market and bought cookies from various vendors. I was excited to get a large funfetti cookie which we ate as we took a walk around the parking lot and it was very dry/stale. But then I think I ended up really liking it after all? The other one was like a peanut butter cup cookie and it was fat and MOIST but also kind of unsatisfying. I think maybe that was just me in general, MAYBE I’M JUST LIKE PRINCE’S MOTHER.

Idiot Dumbo Man.

I legit cannot pose, I don’t even know why I try.

Anyway, right behind us was a train station for some Cuyahoga Railroad thing and Henry excitedly talked to the guy in the ticket booth who was kind of creepy but also charming somehow? Sure, I walked away mid-conversation because I lost interest but at the same time I kind of want to go back and come on ride the train and ride it.

And that was Akron.

Hello, back for a Day 2 recap! I’m going to try and keep it succinct (LOL, me? Succinct? Like I even know what that means) because we weren’t really  there that long and nothing outrageous happened. The day started off with all of us waking up surprisingly in decent, amicable moods. Had a hotel breakfast and killed time watching Cash Cab the only way we’re able to watch anything trivia-related: intensely and with the passion of a sports super fan.

Then we set off for Canada’s Wonderland! It was another bright, sunny day. High 70s. I think that the wildfires had already been happening but somehow we had not heard anything about it and the Toronto-ish area didn’t seem to have been affected by it, at least not at that point. It makes me sick and so sad to think about. :(

Well, anyway, here we are back at the entrance, me being dwarfed by Chooch.

The park wasn’t even technically open yet (it opened at 10 and we got there at 9:30) but Leviathan was already running! This was the coaster I was most stoked for because I think now I have ridden all the gigas in North America? IS THAT CORRECT? Millennium Force, I-305, Fury, Orion, Leviathan? Am I missing anything? Erin, do you know how to Google?

I think this was when we were in line for Leviathan? I asked the guy if we could have the back row and he said YES. Again: IT DOES NOT HURT TO ASK, BUT PLEASE TO REMEMBER TO DO IT WITH PRAYER HANDS.

Anyway, I thought this was fun! But as we cruised onto the brake run, I immediately said that I liked Behemoth better and it is now 100% confirmed that I just flat out like hypers better than gigas. AND THAT IS OK. PEOPLE CAN HAVE OPINIONS, THANK YOU.

After this, it was a walk-on for The Bat and I am SO GLAD that we got out of line for it the day before because I had no idea how long that line actually was. And this bitch is not worth even a 5 minute wait. Actually, as far as Vekoma boomerangs go, it wasn’t the worst one I’ve ridden, which is funny because when were getting off of it, Chooch declared that it was absolutely the worst one he’s ever ridden.

We then rode The Fly, which was a Crazy Mouse-type of coaster and also almost a walk-on, which is crazy for these types of rides. The operations are usually very slow and it’s low capacity, which is not great because it’s always a very popular family coaster. The lines for these things can be outrageous. I have definitely rage-stood in my fair share of their queues. Anyway – I thought this one was VERY fun! Not rough at all!

Vortex was next, which I liked because it interacted with the mountain structure and it was just, to say the least, an insane suspended coaster. Like, actually pretty scary! The way the cars were swinging toward the end, I was scared we were going to tip over. This was Top 5 in the park for me, personally, I would say.

Tiem Warp was an absolute piece of shit. It’s one of those coasters were you stand up in a cage and then it lowers so you’re facedown and being jostled around the entirety of the track. I absolutely fucking hated it. It hurt me so bad and the load-in/load-out process was so awkward – first of all, I didn’t realize that we were supposed to get out as soon as the cage was lifted upright when we returned to the station because I couldn’t tell that the cage-part was opened behind me. Each cage is constantly in motion too so I was basically traveling back to the front of the station like I wanted a re-ride. Finally the ride attendant came over and said, “You can get out now.”

Chooch, meanwhile, was already walking down the exit ramp. Thanks for the heads up, son of the year.

I mean honestly this kid coaster was one of the best ones in the park. Very enjoyable experience. I can’t remember what it was called, but I would ride it again. (Silver Streak, maybe?) Also, the kids area in general was just very pleasant.

Literally, LITERALLY, the best wooden coaster in the whole fucking park. And it’s a goddamn children’s coaster.

Chooch trying to outrun my picture-snapping.

Ghoster Coaster Kids.

W-W-W-W-WOWWWWW. Nice, Henry.

He did this one on purpose because I’m always yelling, “NO ONE WANTS TO SEE YOUR BACK FLESH, STOP EXPOSING YOURSELF!!!”

But yes, this required a trifecta of shot because I thought the Kiddy Land entrance/exit bridge was so fucking delightful. Especially compared to what horrors some of those coasters in the main sections had in store for us. Jesus Christ.

I wanted Tiny Tom Donuts.

But Chooch said he wanted to Dippin’ Dots. Then he threw his little Mini Erin fit and said, “NEVER MIND JUST FORGET IT” because they were two separate lines, so he stormed off to sit and probably text all of his friends about how his parents dragged him to Canada to ride roller coasters, boo hiss.

We got him his dumb Dippin Dots and he acted ANGRY about it. “I said I didn’t want it!” he scoffed and I’ll tell you, the boy was almost wearing it as a head decoration at that point. What a little bitch! He did eat it though.

I only had 4 because I originally wanted to get ice cream later (spoiler: I did not because by that point, it was my turn to throw a Mini Erin tantrum…or, you know, an Original Big Erin tantrum) but now I regret it because they were pretty good! Henry ate the rest and got sick lol. We give all of our refuse to him.

In line for Backlot Stunt Coaster, our third version of this ride. I think of all three, this was my least favorite. Henry was pissed because we told the ride attendant there were only 2 people in our party and left him in the dust, lol. He had to ride with some other dad.

The last awful coaster we rode was Flight Deck. I dunno what was going on in my head but the entire time we were traversing the empty queue (it was a long ass queue) on the way to what was essentially a station wait, I was thinking that this ride was a B&M invert, which are usually pretty good and actually one of my favorite types of coasters. But then when we got to the station and I saw the train (ONE TRAIN OPS, BTW), I sighed, “Oh god, this is an SLC….” and Chooch goes, “Yeah, what did you think it was?”

“A B&M invert,” I said, choking on fear, knowing full well how WFRECKED my body was about to be on this piece of shit.

“A B&M?!!? Since when do you think B&M tracks look like that?!” he cried, so embarrassed by my blunder.

All non-enthusiasts just read a bunch of words that they could not care any less about. I’m sorry for wasting your time. We are coaster nerds.

But yeah, as expected, that fucking devil ride broke me. I was in so much pain, my brain was rattled, other children on the coaster were also complaining about how rough it was. You guys. Kids are resilient and do not care about shitty coasters so that will tell you JUST HOW EXTREMELY SHITTY THIS ONE IS.

Once we got the last of the coaster creds under our belts (well, Chooch’s belt – we don’t really count creds), we peaced out and went to Odd Burger for lunch.

Overall, we (Chooch and I) rode 15 coasters, heard 2 Alanis Morrisette songs (“Uninvited,” “Head Over Feet”), 1 Bryan Adams song, 0 Nickelback songs, had decent park food, and procured 0 Canada’s Wonderland souvenir magnets because do Canadian refrigerators not like magnets?! I had to buy an enamel pin for Henry to grind the pinback off of and turn into a magnet. So ridiculous!

CW has a great atmosphere, love the mountain. But their coaster lineup is….not very well-rounded. Maybe of the 17 (2 are kid coasters that you can only ride if you’re accompanied by a child, ugh), there are 5 that are worthy are re-rides. The rest were one-and-dones, some of these were even burn-it-to-the-grounds.

I’m really glad that we went finally, and we did have a good time overall even though it probably doesn’t seem like it, but we all agreed that we won’t be back unless they get some kind of amazing Intamin or RMC. Like, I probably wouldn’t even just pop in if we were in Toronto.

Yesterday started off fine but then around 4, things got stupid at work AND Henry came home with a really shitty story to tell me – these two things coinciding just really pushed me over the edge. I went from being so angry that I was vibrating, to so sad and humiliated that I was sobbing uncontrollably, and then back to wanting to set fire to…a place.

Basically, what I learned yesterday was:

• I probably 100% require therapy for something that happened 20+ years ago;
• I know the truth and that’s all that matters;
• RAGE-WALK IT OUT. Reacting the way I really want to react is probably only going to backfire because that is what always seems to happen when I try to stick up for myself since I have a tendency of going from zero to psychopath in the blink of an eye.

But wow, I am always caught off guard by how much certain events and actions still hurt me to this day.

Anyway, maybe I will talk about this more once I have a chance to sort through my emotions, but it was a really bad time inside my head last night.

Henry and I went for a walk after dinner because I needed to rant and you all know I do my best ranting and raving while in motion. I had a library book to return so I suggested we walk to the Dormont library and then we could get some drinks at Dunkin’ across the street because that is JUST what this bitch needed, more caffeine. However, when we were walking to the library, we saw that the Boonseeker foodtruck was at a brewery across the street! What serendipity too, because I had completely forgotten that they were going to be there.

So we walked over, placed an order, and then stood as far away from the crowd as possible because I looked ROUGH from all the crying I had been doing. No makeup, unwashed hair, leggings and hoodie: I was a walking billboard for the kind of day I was having. Of course, our order got screwed up  (they gave it to someone else!!) so we had to wait even longer after already waiting a long time. Glad to have a Korean foodtruck in this city but it is a shining example of why America can’t have nice things. If we had been in Korea, the food would have been in our hands before we even had a chance to pay. America just doesn’t do “Efficiency” like Korea!

Some baby sat in a stroller and glared at me nearly the whole time. Join the club, baby. Sometimes it feels like people are lining up to make me feel like trash lol.

Here’s me looking 100% REAL in my BE REAL after we came home from nabbing Korean street food. But, the cheese stick cheered me up a bit, even though I *did* share it with Henry. Sigh. Made me really miss Korea, though. :( One day, I will return!

Another thing that made me smile was finding these pictures of Henry posing in my tutu from 2007! I thought they were lost forever because I couldn’t find them on Flickr and any photo I ever used on LiveJournal is gone because the site that hosted my photos back then was COMCAST which we no longer have.  Anyway, I actually asked Henry for his consent to post these on Instagram  (LOL who even am I lately) and he mumbled, “Whatever.”

People over there loved to see it, though!

Sadly, because of course let’s end this on a sad note, why wouldn’t I, I found out last year that the old friend of mine who made this tutu for me died from Covid. I hadn’t had contact with her in YEARS but it still felt like a kick to the heart to find that out.

Life is so fucking sad and weird, but also it can be OK so that’s what I’m holding out for: more “OK” days. Bring ’em to me. (Quickly.)

P.S. I have always been jealous of Henry’s shapely legs. Mine are like thicc tree trucks. Sigh.

Oh boy, today is this big guy’s 58th birthday! It’s also my NCT bias Haechan’s birthday, so what a special day!

One annoying thing about Henry’s birthday, and I am SURE that I expound upon this every year because it truly does get on my nerves, is that his birthday is so close to Father’s Day. Look, I only have so much energy these days to pour into gift-giving or, you know, “doing something special.” And we (“we” lol) decided that we would go to Cedar Point possibly for Father’s Day, so sorry June 6th. I guess you will have to pass quietly, with little to no fan fare.

J/K – I told Henry that he was welcome to bring home birthday treats for us all to enjoy, and he really fucking did it too!

He even treated himself to a Burger King dinner. Wow, slow down, Henry. This isn’t a milestone birthday.

Anyway, in lieu of saying Happy Birthday, I sent him this video of Haechan theatrically singing Happy Birthday, which we have both seen a thousand million times in various “chaotic NCT” compilation videos, but it had to happen.

Henry’s response was, “Wow. Thanks, Haechan.”

I know I don’t gush about the guy daily, because that would be weird, but obviously Chooch and I both love him and appreciate all that he does for us, even though we have a penchant for being spoiled brats / ungrateful dicks so maybe at times, to spectators, it might seem like we take him for granted or perhaps aren’t grateful enough. But c’mon guys. You have to know that we know how good we have it! LONG LIVE HENRY. HIP HIP HOORAY or whatever.

Canada’s Wonderland has been on my TO DO list ever since we became coaster thoosies. I have watched so many videos on this Cedar Fair park, so I was kind of surprised at how underwhelming this place was.

First of all, it has 17 coasters (three or four of those are kid coasters) but honestly only about 4 of those are re-ridable. In fact, I experienced some of the WORST coaster rides in the two days we were at Canada’s Wonderland.

We’ll get to that later. First, let’s do a quick recap of Day One.

We arrived at the park around 2, after driving all morning. This place is about 20-30 minutes past Toronto, I think? My immediate impression was that it was visually stunning. As soon as you walk through the entrance, you’re facing the iconic mountain and waterfall. That entrance is so dramatic and actually might have been one of the few parts of this joint that were actually better in person as opposed to what I had seen in videos.

Lookit! It’s so pretty and there are actually three coasters that interact with the mountain, and I loved all three of them.

Our first coaster of 2023 was actually one of the mountain coasters! It was a cute little family mine ride called Thunder Run, super short – it did two quick laps around a track inside the mountain with some lighting effects, but my favorite part was before the operator sent the train, she made everyone scream CHOO CHOO and you know I practically made my throat bleed with the sheer force of my CHOOing.

Also, I missed the memo that it was Purple Day, I guess. I actually did pack a purple shirt too, which I wore the next day, but it was more of a lavender so I guess I still lose.

Next was Wilde Beast, an old piece of shit woodie. FUCK THIS RIDE. Literally, this fucker set the tone for the rest of the day for me, and probably also Henry. But then difference between the two of us is that I will keep riding things because even though I don’t count credits, I want to ride the same coasters as Chooch especially because it’s the only TOGETHER TIME we have anymore since he is TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL when we’re home and usually only speaks to me in grunts and sneers. (Although he is being SUPER TALKATIVE to me this weekend because he has a project for school that he needs my help with and we will discuss this later.)

But seriously, this was one of the worst woodies I have ever ridden, and I have ridden Son of Beast and Blue Streak in Conneaut, both of which no longer exist. It was so rough, and that paired with the heat of the day and possibly being mildly dehydrated really sent me on a tailspin of nausea and pain that I couldn’t climb out of for the entire day. Trust me, it only got worse.

After this, Chooch and I got in line for the park’s shitty Vekoma boomerang, The Bat. Well, we attempted to get in line. But as we were walking through the switchbacks to get to the end of the line, I turned around to see that an entire group of people were cutting the line behind us instead of walking through the empty queue which I knew was going to happen but there were people in front of us, so Chooch and I didn’t want to be dicks and do that same thing (you know – going under the railing to bypass the empty switchbacks that you would need to walk down in order to get to the end). So by the time we made our way back to the end of the line, there were about 20 people who had cut in front of us but what really set me off was that even now that we WERE THERE AT THE END OF THE LINE, people were still jumping over the empty lines and cutting in front of us to join their fellow linejumpers who had previously cut the line. I just lost my mind and said OH WOW OK REALLY?? FUCK THIS and made Chooch get out of line with me. I’m sorry, but I’m not enduring that type of bullshit for A VEKOMA BOOMERANG. I knew we were coming back the next day and figured we’d just cross it off the list early before it got crowded, because for some unknown reason, these shit-loops are general public favorites.

WHYYYYY???

I was in a foul mood at this point. Probably needed water. Definitely required a feeding. But was determined to persevere and try to get in as many coasters as we could on Day One, despite the crowds. (It wasn’t THAT crowded, actually but it was the fact that the people we were encountering all day weren’t exactly nice, dispelling that age-old Canadian stereotype. However, I think you can also argue that amusement parks in general bring out the absolute worst in people.)

The other thing that pissed me off was that CW’s wait times in the app were extremely off. It said that Yukon Striker was a minute wait so I figured, let’s just get in line for this because this is one of the park’s most popular rides and minutes seemed reasonable. Yeah, until you get so far into the line and realize that there is an entire second section of switchbacks that wasn’t visible at the ride entrance. I guess it wasn’t THAT bad but it was fucking hot and we were essentially cooking under a tent with a horde of strangers. None of them were blatantly terrible at least EXCEPT for this one dad that was a few people ahead of us who got on his phone halfway through the line and started DIRECTING the rest of his crew to his location. I HATE THAT.

I always hope that people in line won’t let the line jumpers through, but it almost never works out that way. In this case, it was the guy’s wife and teenage son, who were shrugging their way through the line with their recently-procured Beaver Tails (um, a delicious Canadian take on fried dough and one of the highlights of the day).

I was so pissed and proceeded to glare at the dad for the rest of our duration in the line. He looked like a Jersey Shore hothead, to be honest.

Other than that, the line wasn’t too horrible but I would say it was at least 20 minutes longer than the stupid app said it would be.

I don’t know that I would say it was worth the wait but it was definitely one of the best in the park, and as far as dive coasters go, I think it would be my #3 (I’ve only ridden 4, lol). Dive coasters just don’t really do it for me, but I so really like the one at Busch Gardens Williamsburg a lot.

s’OK.

My favorite part was actually the loose article bin system! You put your stuff in while you’re next in line, and then as you get on the coaster, the bins (which are made to look like old-school luggage) go up a conveyer system over top of the coaster and then when you return, the “luggage” is waiting for you in the exit!

Jersey Shore Dad was on the same train as us and was screaming, “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY STUFF” or something along those lines that included SWEARS, as everyone was exiting. What a fucking douche-noz.

I ate here! Well, after Henry waited a good 15 minutes for the register to be shut down and restarted so that he could pay.

Vegetarian moussaka! I was so excited for this and it was pretty good for amusement park food! Usually as a meat-free person, I’m stuck getting pizza or whatever shitty veggie burger they might have hidden in the back of a freezer somewhere. But this was nice!

Chooch and Henry went to some place called Lazy Bear Lodge or something, which was actually my back-up plan because I heard that they had Impossible stuffed-peppers.

After eating, I was like HARK, DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR? as we walked past the mountain. Of course, Henry 100% couldn’t because he can barely even hear me when I’m right next to him, but even Chooch was like, “You mean people screaming and a waterfall falling?” So we had to search out the nearest speaker in order for Chooch to hear.

OK, let me back up. The day before, Chooch had said he got in an argument with someone from school about Alanis Morrisette because he seriously thinks she’s terrible and look, I’m not her #1 fan, not a saesang for Alanis or anything, but I do genuinely like her as an artist and really enjoy a lot of her songs (this came later in life though — I didn’t really “get” it in real time when she was a new artist in the 90s and all over MTV, etc. I remember my friend Christy asking me in the car on the way to tennis practice if I had heard of her and I was like, “Yeah, this is not my thing” because I was super into rap and R&B at the time and also never wanted to like the same things my friends liked LOL why am I like this).

Anyway! I got really annoyed with Chooch, especially considering I’m always on edge whenever RYAN REYNOLDS comes up, so I started forcing him to listen to her songs that I like the most and one of the ones I sent him after he escaped back to his room was UNINVITED from the City of Angels soundtrack.

YOU GUYS, THAT WAS THE SONG THAT WAS PLAYING AT THAT MOMENT AT CANADA’S WONDERLAND.

WTF, wow, OK, I get that we were in Alanis Country but that would not be the choice from her discography that I expected, so I was super surprised and pleasantly surprised, because that song is THE FUCKING SHIT.

YES. Back when women sang with their real voices. We love to hear it.

Anyway, that happened.

Then Chooch and I rode some really whack darkride / coaster called Something Mountain Guardians or something. Um first of all, SIX OF THE SEATS in one of the trains were out of order, so Chooch and I got the entire train to ourselves. I had no idea what to expect because I had never seen much content about this in any of the videos I’ve watched, which was good because in the last room, something unexpected happens which caused me  to scream SO LOUD like I was being murdered, only for theh door to open and our train to proceed to the exit which was right next to the line of people waiting to get on.

So everyone heard me scream and they were all staring at me.

It made me crack up so bad because this was 100% not a thrill ride but if you based it on my screams….

Anyway, as far as darkrides go, that was very outdated and also the audio wasn’t working. But the beginning and end made up for it, in my opinion.

Already posted these, but here is one of thee first #carouselfies of 2023 again!

Durrrrrr.

I think this is the one that will make it on the carouselfie wall.

OK, whatever I said earlier about Wilde Beast? Quadruple it and that’s how I felt this fucking piece of shit called Mighty Canadian Mindblower or something. What a disaster of a coaster. But first, let’s back it up and talk about that ride attendant up there who BELLOWED, “GET. DOWN. FROM. THE RAILING!!!! at every railing-sitting perp she eye-balled. There was a group of young guys behind us and after she screamed at one of them, his friend was like, “Yo, I would NEVER let someone yell at me like that. ARE YOU KIDDING?” and he was so stunned that this little bitch with the big mouth was flexing her authority with no clapback. I mean, I didn’t really disagree with him. I can see if she was having to tell the same person over and over again to get off the railing – then OK fine. But she was SATAN-ROARING this shit on first time offenders and it was so startling every time.

So yeah, I feel like if she had mouthed off on me in that way, I would have pushed back. I HATE being yelled at. HATE IT.

But also, I know not to sit on railings. So…

There was a young girl in line in front of us with her two friends and at the last second, she wussed out and asked if she could cross over to the exit instead of boarding the train. In hindsight, I wish I had followed her lead because this ride actually completely ruined the rest of the day for me. The jackhammering was unrelenting and I screamed IN PAIN through the entire duration. Even Chooch was in pain and he is a teenager who feels nothing. And it was a LONG LAYOUT too! Torture! Please RMC this abomination!!

Ugh I was so sick after this but STILL got in line for Behemoth, the park’s hyper coaster. One of the things I loved about this one was the CREW! They had a guy in the station who was overlooking the line below and would literally sound off a SIREN and then call out linejumpers over his megaphone. It was glorious.

They were assigning rows but I said, “Can we please have the back?” and made prayer-hands. That is the key. Henry said also “being cute” helps but that’s not me so it must be the prayer hands. They always act like they want to say no, but then they end up sighing and nodding. YESSS. It doesn’t hurt to ask, you guys! Back row is the best row! (Well, mostly.)

Anyway, I think this was my favorite ride in the park. I just LOVE hypers in general. The downside though is that as soon as it came to a stop on the brake run, my nausea and headache immediately came back with a vengeance and all I could think was, “OMG am I going to puke on a stationary coaster?” Literal, I was close. The puke was tickling my ghost-tonsils, is all I’m saying.

Shitty coasters aside (not including that beauty in the background), this park was so aesthetically pleasing. This shot was taken facing the entrance, with the moutain behind me.

I wanted a Beaver Tail all day! Look how happy The Purples look!

I went with the nutella version and it was perfect park snack. Not too heavy, just right. (I did share with Henry, ugh.)

We were going to leave after this, but then we realized we hadn’t walked over to this medieval section of the park yet. There was a coaster back there called Dragon Fyre and Henry pointed out that it was a walk-on. I knew, KNEW, that I should have JUST SAID NO, but I am always trying to prove that I am the parent who can be counted on, so I said, “Chooch, let’s get you one last credit today” and honestly I don’t even think he cared one way or the other. But we did it, we got on this piece of shit corkscrew and it KILLED ME. My brain felt so jostled, my face was hot yet clammy, I couldn’t get my vision to merge back into one. It was soooo bad.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Chooch said, all upbeat, as the train returned to the station, and I hissed, “Speak for yourself. Burn the bitch down.”

I had to go and sit on a stone wall next to some fake lake thing while Henry and Chooch went off in search of water for me. I have somehow managed to make it 43 years without ever puking in an amusement park but that streak came so close to ending on this day. I felt so wrecked, you guys.

We left about 20 minutes before the park closed at 8 and the whole drive to the hotel, I was chanting in my head, “Please don’t puke, please don’t puke.” I went to bed at 9:30 that night, you guys. 9:30. Dead to the world.

In summary, day one at Canada’s Wonderland wasn’t the WORST day I’ve ever had at a park, but it still left a lot to be desired. STAY TUNED FOR DAY 2. Was it better? Was it worse? NO SPOILERS.

Here are some (FIVE TO BE EXACT) things that I have on my mind today:

1. The First Ed Sheeran Song I’ve Liked (accidentally)

OK look, I don’t specifically hate Ed Sheeran or anything. I think he is fine, he doesn’t bother me, but I also could not ever pick his voice out of a line-up. It’s just, whatever. But then I was doing a cardio dance workout a few weeks ago to afrobeat songs and one of the songs WAS SO GOOD that it got lodged in my head until I finally looked it up to see who it was and apparently ED SHEERAN is featured on it?? I guess now that I know that, I can tell sort of, but this was not something that struck me the other times I heard this song. “Oh wow, and there is Ed Sheeran chiming in.”

I think my brother would be disappointed in me because he hates Ed Sheeran but I just recently found out that he likes Taylor Swift, the most vanilla basic bitch out there, so I guess we are even.

Anyway, there is an official MV too that I am just now watching for the first time and I guess ED makes a cameo in this too lol. But yeah, this is such a fire summer jam and I have been putting Fireboy DML on replay these last few days:

2. Firefly Lane

Dude. I had been really dragging this second half of the season out, just stretching it as far as it would go, because I knew it was going to rip me apart. But I finally watched the last episode Wednesday night and, well, I’m not OK! LOL. I was crying so hard that I had to keep covering my face, or looking at my phone to distract me, or shower the closest cat with unbridled attention. I was a wet mess. I didn’t read the book and will probably not at this point because why torture myself further, but I thought that show was very well done and the casting was on point. I always was meh about Katherine Heigel but that actually made me like her and also her character reminded me of my aunt Sharon a little bit?? (The good parts of Sharon.)

(I have been thinking of Sharon SO MUCH lately and I think it’s because I am finally ready to go through the mourning stages…..7 years later.)

3. New neighbors!

You guys, we have a family of groundhogs living over the hill in our backyard! So far, I’ve counted 5 babies and a mom (I call her Bertha – she is so mean to her babies!). The squirrels are like WHO ARE YOU AND ARE YOU PAYING RENT?

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I dunno if I’m just officially OLD but I could fucking sit on my backporch all day and watch the backyard wildlife. I love them all so much.

EXCEPT FOR THE FUCKING HAWKS.

Some of the Mr. Gray Guys came running when I call them now – they know their names <3

Meanwhile, my favorite – Girl Buddy – has been snubbing me all week and I know it’s because she’s pissed that we were gone for part of Memorial Day weekend.

4. Dance Telephone Challenge!

You guys! NCT Dream was on Good Mythical Morning recently! Chooch said this means he can’t watch GMM anymore, whatever hater. Anyway, I thought it was extremely cute and funny, obviously. Janna watched the whole thing and you should too!

5. A Call About a Cat Carrier

Last Friday, HNC texted me and asked if we have a cat carrier that he could borrow. I sighed, retrieved one of the cat carriers from a shelf in the basement, and took it over to him. Apparently, they needed it for the weekend to take their cat to their camp, which is a thing that both HNC and Wife reference quite frequently but I have yet to care enough to ask any questions about it. Such as, “Where is it?”

Anyway! Tuesday evening, HNC’s wife returned it to us, which I appreciated. Punctuality when it comes to returning borrowed items is something that I don’t get to experience very much in life, I feel like.

Then.

The next day.

Another HNC text: “When u get a min, can u call  me? It’s about the cat carrier.”

REALLY? Why do we have to have a telephone conversation about this? I let you borrow it. You returned it. The end.

I waited a few minutes. Considered ignoring it. Sighed. Called him.

It quickly turned into a multi-point inquisition:

1. What brand was the cat carrier? It fit their cat perfectly (purrfectly?) and he would like to get the same one.
2. Do we buy our cat litter in plastic containers? If so, where do we buy it? Can he have the empties to use to store rock salt FOR THE CAMP?

And then, what I believe to be the main purpose of the phone call, the rest was just friendly filler:

3. DO I KNOW ANY TRICKS TO KEEP SQUIRRELS OUT OF PLANTS BECAUSE HIS WIFE IS FREAKING OUT.

Ugh! How about just embrace them as they are GOD’S PRECIOUS CREATURES??? Did I tell you that she has FORKS sticking out of her planters, tines up, as a squirrel deterrent?!

Bonus: I heard HNC’s wife’s ring tone for the first time the other night when she was giving me avocadoes – I WAS MADE FOR LOVING YOU by KISS!???!!! I was almost shocked into silence because that was not what I expected. The Nokia tone, maybe? A Dwight Yoakum midi?

I didn’t liveblog any part of our weekend Canada road trip because the drive itself was extremely boring. But! After we left Canada’s Wonderland yesterday, we stopped at Odd Burger for lunch because there was one a few minutes away! I was so excited to eat here again, only three mths after the first time, because they have an extensive all-vegan menu. I really wanted to try one of the breakfast sandwiches, so I got this maple thingie with bacUN and ‘ham.’ The egg is tofu, and it’s topped with a hashbrown. Oh, and ‘cheese’! My eyes are always so much bigger than my stomach when we come to places like that and I was really convinced that it wouldn’t be enough, but yo – it was. I was comfortably stuffed.

I also had a small orange milkshake which I couldn’t finish so Henry and Chooch got to enjoy the dregs.

Chooch got a taco salad, and Henry got the chickun cordon bleu (which I got last time) and poutine. Totally satisfying.

The only other thing I wanted to do while we were still in Canada was eat a nanaimo bar again, since that was seriously the highlight of our last trip to Toronto (aside from the Kang Daniel concert, of course!) (even though we weren’t in Toronto at all this time). Henry thought he was so great because he found a bakery several minutes away from Odd Burger. They only had one nanaimo bar left. It was just OK – the one I had at Bunner’s really spoiled me, I guess.

Then, I immediately fell asleep for about 30 minutes, which is very unlike me. I hardly ever sleep in the car, mostly because Henry’s driving has gotten so bad lately that I’m terrified to close my eyes while he’s at the wheel. But Jesus Christ, I felt like I was drugged. It was barely even 80 degrees that day, but I think it was just the fact that it was our first theme park of the year and honestly it hasn’t been very hot in Pittsburgh so this was like, baby’s first day in the sun. I didn’t get burnt or anything but I think I must have been partially dehydrated and possibly a little heat-strokey? Who can be sure, but man I felt like my life-force had been sucked out like marrow from a bone.

And then we sat in traffic for about two hours because jackass truck drivers were clogging up the road leading up to the border. Henry was trying to explain it – I guess all the big trucks / 18-wheelers have to get into the right lane but a lot of trucks were trying to stay in the left lane for as long as possible to bypass the truck-traffic and then once they had no choice but to get over, the trucks in the right lane were like FUCK OFF CUNTS so the trucks in the left lane came to a complete stop while trying to merge, blocking the highway for us non-truck people.

Then!!! Some asshole in a tow truck-thing in the right lane MOVED INTO THE CENTER OF BOTH LANES literally right as we were passing, nearly side-swiping us, just so he could block the trucks in the left-lane from passing. It took me basically the entire time we were stuck in the traffic jam to understand what was happening, no matter how many times Henry explained it. I think my brain was definitely going through it yesterday. (And Sunday – Sunday was a rough day in general for my precious brain.)

But yeah, what a douchebag that tow truck guy was! I kept screaming, “IS THAT LEGAL? CAN WE CALL THE COPS?” The audacity!! I am so fucking glad that we just barely made it past him before he pulled that stunt because I would have been p-p-p-p-p-issed if we were stuck behind him while he was taking up two lanes.

Other than that, I spent the ride home finishing one of the best books I’ve ever read: The Hundred-Year House by Rebecca Makkai. This was the third book of hers that I’ve read, and all three have been 5-stars. Love her. I think she is a crazy genius, honestly.

Got a shitty dinner at Get-Go in Erie, which is where we always stop when we’re out that direction and I actually kind of hate it BUT at least they have a vegetarian AND plant-based menu which is way more than I can say for Sheetz. Get it together, Sheetz. It’s 2023!!

Obviously, I will recap our time at Canada’s Wonderland separately, and I can tell you that the three of us barely fought (except for yesterday when we were making fun of Henry for, I don’t know, coughing weird probably, and snapped, “YOU TWO ARE THE REASON PEOPLE BECOME SERIAL KILLERS” or something and I wanted to say that actually no, there are other reasons people become SERIAL killers, but sure, we are probably the reason why a person could become a CRIME OF PASSION or DOMESTIC killer. Henry thinks he’s so fucking cool.

Oh yeah, like on the way to Canada, when we had just gotten back into the car after stopping at THE STUPID ERIE GET-GO, and Henry announced that he had to go back in because he forgot to buy THROAT LOZENGES and Chooch and I, in tandem, said in a bored tone, “Wow you’re so cool” and “mm, cool” only for me to then snap out of it and cry, “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST SAY COUGH DROPS? Ugh, you’re so embarrassing.”

What was I saying? Oh yeah, we all managed to get along for the most part considering this was our first overnight trip as a trio since Dollywood (Chooch didn’t go to Toronto or Chicago with us, YOU MIGHT RECALL) but for some reason, I just felt off. It wasn’t that I didn’t have fun or enjoy myself, but I guess I felt kind of disoriented? It could have been also that it was my first time this year wearing shorts in public and I am so vain/mildly body dysmorphic I think, that this is something that can easily knock me off my axis. I really wish I wasn’t this way.

Chooch and I did get in a small argument though because I truly enjoy Tim Hortons but he is a Dunkin lifer.

Anyway, my general malaise has carried over a bit into today and all I want to do is say ciao for now and go to bed. So, ciao for now.

Hello from Canada! Vaughan, Canada specifically. I didn’t live blog our drive here today because I wasn’t really feeling great and then we got here and it was really one of the first days this year that I spent a considerable amount of time in the heat paired with some pretty rough coasters and lots of very rude people so you can imagine how much I am LOVING this comfortable hotel bed I’m chilling in right now while CNN’s The Eighties is on and Chooch is spitting some very contemptuous opinions about very well-loved 80s bands while waiting for Henry to come back from Tim Hortons.

Oh yay he’s back.

Anyway, thank god Canada’s Wonderland closed at 8pm today because my nauseated ass could not last one more minute. It was a rough one and I almost thought I was going to puke and I honestly don’t think I have EVER puked at an amusement park?! We came close today. We came close.

Also here is our first carouselfie of 2023. :)

Every month or so, I go out to dinner with some recently-retired ladies from work which has been really nice because I am a huge fan of keeping in touch with people. Some might say slightly obsessive and unwilling to let go, but you know, I’m just being me over here.

Anyway, Marlene chose Rico’s for our most recent dinner and I was cracking up because way back when I was dating Psycho Mike, my grandma gave me a gift certificate to Rico’s because it was given to her before my Pappap died and they never got around to using it. She said she had no use for it and wanted us to have it. If she knew what a piece of shit Mike was, I’m sure she would have been like, “Why don’t you and Christy go and have a nice BFF dinner at Rico’s and leave your abusive boyfriend at home to cry about it?”

The gift certificate was the PAPER KIND IN AN ENVELOPE! That was how long ago this was. Sigh.

We decided to go there for our shitty one-year anniversary, so this must have been 1997, the fall after senior year (or, you know, freshman year of college for those who weren’t high school drop-outs lolololol ugh).

Yes, the pencil-thin eyebrows align with the date, lol. This was also when I had a Carrie Brady-from-DAYS hairstyle, literally pulled out pages from Soap Opera Digest to take to the salon.

“Give me the Carrie Brady but make it puffy,” is apparently what I requested.

I also remember buying that shirt at Contempo (RIP to my FAVE STORE) specifically for this stupid date. I do not remember what I ordered (I was a vegetarian already so probably plain-ass pasta), if I liked it, what Mike ordered – all that has stuck in my mind for all these years is the fact that I supposedly knew this was an establishment with valet parking and PURPOSELY didn’t tell Mike so that he would be HUMILIATED when we rolled up in his beat-up silver Omni circa 198-something.

That definitely set the tone. I’m sure it was a wonderful drive home that night, his anger brewing all throughout dinner like a strong pot of vitriol, providing him with LOTS of energy to remind me over and over how much of a STUPID BITCH I am.

Um, yeah anyway. My Rico’s Replay was much better! Better company for sure. Jill joined us this time and it is always really nice to see work friends “outside of work” and by that I mean in actual real life.

Being a vegetarian, “upscale” restaurants always fall flat with me because I have nothing to judge it on other than pasta. My only option was the angel hair in a cream sauce. It was good! Was it $27 good? Um…no lol.

I was the youngest person in that whole place though, that’s for sure. I’m sure it was super uncouth of me to take a picture of food but I don’t think anyone was looking and also, who cares?

The only negative part of the evening was that our server was an asshole. I rarely complain about these things because I have a ton of respect for people in the service industry. I know that it’s hard ass work and customers can be such dicks. But this older woman server was just not nice. Even apart from the fact that she was extremely inattentive, she was just very rude and cure. I was watching her interact with other tables, clearly occupied by “regulars,” and she was like a completely different person with them.

When I asked for a box, she brought me a plastic container that was cracked all the way down one side! I didn’t notice until after I put my leftovers in it. I called her back over and asked if I could have a new one and at first, it was like she wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with it. She actually picked it up to inspect it like she didn’t believe me?! And then she said, WITH WHAT SOUNDED LIKE EXASPERATION, “Oh. I didn’t know it was like that” and stormed off to get me a new one. She could have just said, “Sorry about that” but somehow, she made me feel like it was my fault! Like what she wanted to say was, “It wasn’t like that when I gave it to you.”

I am clearly still fixating on this.

Anyway, I don’t care how much rich old people like Rico’s. I doubt I will ever be back. NOT EVEN IF SOMEONE’S GRANDMA GIVES ME A $100 GIFT CERTIFICATE.

I don’t know what the fuck I inhaled the other week but I was a goddamn whirling dervish. Knee jerk reactions. Irrational responses. I try to be a kind person every day but sometimes, like the other week, I have no energy left in my mind to hold up the anger dam any longer and I…snap.

Look for me on a Netflix documentary one day, fam.

Anyway, on this one particular day, we’ll say it was a Wednesday, I was minding my own business, working from home, feeding the squirrels, sending extremely reasonable demands to Henry via text, when suddenly, a cleanup crew arrived on my street to remove the leftover shit in the vacant side of my duplex. I dunno what Blake was doing over there, but he and his family clearly left so much shit behind when they moved in March that it warranted my landlord to send an actual garbage truck and crew to clean it out.

I was fine with this until suddenly, MUSIC BEGAN TO BLAST. They must have set up a radio right on the other side of the wall near where my desk is set up, because it sounded like it was coming from my side of the house. You need to know this about me: I FUCKING HATE HATE HATE HATE HEARING SOMEONE ELSE’S BASS THUMPING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF MY WALL. I mentioned this to Janna and she was like, “Oh yes, I know this about you.” It’s not a secret, sweetie, OK?! I hate it. I will literally Hulk out and start smashing shit against the wall in retaliation. You think I’m playing for the blog but I am telling the truth.

I allowed this to play for all of 3 seconds before I FLEW OUT  THE FRONT DOOR, leapt off my porch and yelled, “CAN YOU PLEASE TURN THAT MUSIC OFF I AM TRYING TO WORK IN THERE.”

I can only IMAGINE how I appeared to this crew of young guys who were just trying to make the most of a day spent cleaning trash out of some slob’s vacated house. There were three of them in the yard at this moment, one had JUST walked out of the house and was in the middle of crossing the yard, but he stopped DEAD IN HIS TRACKS. Another guy, who I determined to be the leader, immediately said, “Of course, I am so sorry!” and snapped his fingers at the man who was now frozen in the yard staring at this fucking asshole frenzied Karen with her arms akimbo in a sloppy hoodie and leggings looking more like she was busy changing diapers all day and not reviewing engagement letters while getting pulled in 17 different directions by people in her department.

I looked rough is all I’m saying. I know my face was beet red too because I could feel the flames fanning on the other side of my flesh.

“THANK YOU!” I said in a huff and slammed the door on my way back in.

About 30 minutes later, there was a tentative knock on my door. It was Leader Guy, looking nervous.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but is it OK if we back this truck down the driveway?” he asked, wringing his hands. I noticed several of his minions were looking on, bracing for fall-out.

I said it was fine and then he said, “We’re going to be pretty noisy for a bit but we’ll try to make it fast.”

And then it was at this point where I was reminded that these guys were human JUST LIKE ME, just trying to do their jobs JUST LIKE ME, so I softened and said, “Hey look, sorry for being such a Karen earlier—” and he cut me off to say, “No no no, I totally get it! Thank you for being so cool about this!”

Um, OK but I was literally being the OPPOSITE of cool when I came out of my house in a red HOT rage earlier, but whatever. Truce!

Then! That following Friday, it happened again. Did I tell you, old blog frendo, that the guy ROB who had moved into the other side of HNC’s house last fall was also moving out right after Blake? OK well now I told you. Anyway, ROB hadn’t really bothered me much while he was living over there, but for some reason, he waited until the very last days of living there to start parking his large kidnapper van in our driveway. So now we had THREE kidnapper vans down there: his, and TWO of HNC’s (one of which is broken down and hasn’t moved since like 2015, I don’t even know anymore). Basically, our parking sitch in the back down there goes like this: Henry’s car, HNC van, HNC van in a row. Then I would park my car in front of one of HNC’s vans (the broken one) and HNC’s wife would park her car in front of HNC’s other van (which sometimes works). It’s…a whole thing. But then ROB was like, “No, I am going to park my gigantic tank in front of HNC’s broken van” so I have just been parking in the church lot like old times because the YOU WILL BE TOWED sign lost it’s power after a few mths and people started parking there overnight again.

I don’t really give a shit that much about the parking situation, but the thing that was pissing me off was that Rob didn’t even live there anymore when he started parking his van down back. Like, he and his girlfriend would come here in some shitty minivan and sort of move stuff around in the garage, and then he would pull the van up closer to the garage to, I guess, put stuff in it, but every single time, he would park it right in front of HNC’s van and then LEAVE.

FOR DAYS. SOMETIMES OVER A WEEK. Bro. You don’t live here anymore! This is not your long-term parking lot!

It just really started to grate on me, you know? I kept asking Henry to text HNC to see if he had any intel on when Rob was going to come back and take the van but also HELLO HNC CAN YOU PLEASE GET RID OF YOUR VANS TOO??

I can’t even explain how insane it is on this block with white men thinking they can fix broken cars. It’s like the Pioneer Ave Junkyard Collective. Come visit me sometime and I will give you a tour. And if your brakes are squealing or something….DON’T TELL LARRY OR HNC OR THEY WILL WANT TO FIX IT AND THEN SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR CAR BECAUSE IT LIVES HERE NOW.

Anyway, it was two Fridays ago and I was so excited because ROB was back and it looked like he was finally leaving with the van! He had pulled it up the driveway a bit so it was next to not-his garage while he was presumably moving more stuff. I saw him get in the van and it looked like he was pulling it forward, like he was going to leave, but then he BACKED IT UP INTO HENRY’S SPOT JUST AS HENRY WAS COMING HOME FROM WORK. So now Henry had to park his car across the street because not only did ROB steal his spot, but his idiot minivan was farther up, blocking up the entire driveway to begin with.

You guys, I don’t know what came over me, stress in general, my body begging for a release, but for the second time that week you could find your girl BALLET-LEAPING over the porch steps, only this time I kept going, rounding the corner and storming down the driveway. THE MINIVAN was the first thing I came upon and Rob’s girlfriend was sitting in the drivers seat. I must have really come up on her like a wildwoman because she gasped, clutched her chest, and exclaimed, “What? What? Did I back into something??” and I fucking roared a string of obscenities about Rob and his fucking van etc etc and she goes, “Ok! Ok! Geez, I’ll tell him! Geez!”

(Honestly though, imagine you’re just calming sitting in your car playing Wordle or doom-scrolling thru Twitter and suddenly I pop up at your window, shrieking like a mad lady with absolutely no build up or provocation. Here I am, 갑자기!)

I stormed back up the driveway just as Henry was walking across the street looking nervous AF because he said he could tell something was HAPPENING and that I had just flipped out. IS MY MANIA THAT OBVIOUS?? COOL.

So now Henry and I are both in the house and my heart is racing because I honestly can’t explain what possessed me to do that. Like, it’s a van, yo. In a fucking driveway. It’s not bothering anyone. It’s not worth yelling about?? Potentially getting SHOT OVER?? People get shot for far less!

I guess the girlfriend relayed my message because I could hear ROB getting BACK into his van to move it out of Henry’s spot and back in front of HNC’s broken van, all the while shouting, “FUCK YOU!” at my house. So now I’m shouting passive aggressive shit back out the window, like, “OK YOU FUCKING WEIRDO” and Henry is nervously laughing with absolute fear in his eyes because is this going to turn into his moment to decide if he’s man enough to protect me?!

Especially when THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE FRONT DOOR and he was just about to say, “Don’t—” but it was too late because by this point I was chomping at the bit for a fight so I marched over to the door and flung it open to see a totally strung out and shaking Rob pacing on my sidewalk. “WHAT???” I yelled and he was like, “I’M ALLOWED TO PARK BACK UNTIL THE 19TH JUST SO YOU KNOW” and I was like “I DON’T CARE, IT SHOULDN’T BE BACK  THERE AT ALL, YOU DON’T LIVE THERE” and he was stomping furiously through the yard, into the minivan that whisked him away from THE HORRORS OF PIONEER. I literally heard his girlfriend telling some guy who had pulled in front of their house probably for a drug deal while blasting a religious sermon on his radio that “yeah, we’re moving, Rob is sick of the bullshit on this street.”

WELL MAYBE DON’T MOVE BACK (TWICE!!!) TO THE SAME STREET YOUR EX-WIFE WHO HAS A PFA AGAINST YOU LIVES ON? AND ALSO MAYBE DON’T OWE MONEY TO YOUR NEIGHBORS?? (He apparently owes LARRY money, from what HNC says. HNC is the TMZ of Pioneer.)

So, that happened. And then I couldn’t calm down. Like, he pulled away and I instantly felt like SHIT. The adrenaline wore off and I sat at my desk with my head in my hands and regretted every single moment of that interaction. Yes, it’s annoying that he’s parking there, but that didn’t give me the right to fly off the handle when there had literally been NO OTHER CONVERSATION between us about this van. It’s not like, “Well, I asked him nicely 6 times so now I guess it’s time to threaten to shove shit up his ass” oh wait, that’s HNC’s wife’s go-to.

I just didn’t feel good about this, and it honestly ruined my whole weekend because I don’t like being a bitch anymore. It does nothing for me. I don’t feel “cool,” I don’t feel “tough.” I just felt like an asshole. I felt small and embarrassed. I don’t know this guy! I don’t know his life, I don’t know if he’s going through rough times, I don’t know if he’s the type of guy to come back with a fucking shotgun.

So yeah, I was awash in a sea of regertz. Not only is it just shitty to treat people that way, but it’s also, frankly, unsafe.

People.

Get.

Shot.

For.

Far.

Less.

You know? I wasn’t being smart and I’m truly lucky that it didn’t end in tragedy.

And then the 19th came and went and his van was still fucking back there so I got mad all over again. LOL.

Just kidding. I mean, not really, but it was more like, “OK I’m now officially validated,” you know what I mean? Was I going to fucking call and have it towed? Yeah, no. Because again, at the end of the end, who fucking cares.

Earlier this evening, Henry said, “Look, Rob’s back and he moved his van!” I looked outside and saw that he had pulled it across the street in the church parking lot and was standing over there talking to his girlfriend, who was sitting in her parked minivan.

“Do you think I should go over there and apologize?” I asked Henry, but before he could answer, I had already abandoned my dinner and was crossing the street.

You guys, being a bigger person sucks. It felt like I was walking the fucking plank or something, but I did it – I went over there and I said, “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted the other day. I was being an asshole and it wasn’t cool, you didn’t deserve that.” Of course, talking to Rob is an exercise in futility and there was not much emotion coming from him, and frankly, I’m not even sure if he remembered what happened, but his girlfriend did, because I also apologized to her face too and she said, “That really means a lot – god bless you, sweetie” which you know, kind of ruined the moment, but still.

And then I got stuck over there for a solid 15 minutes listening to Rob talk about how he used to work for the OG landlord since he was 13 (current landlord is that guy’s son and he is not great, Patty) and other Pioneer sundry, until a tow truck arrived because apparently the transmission on Rob’s van is bad and that is why he was keeping it in the driveway, because he was waiting to have the money to get it towed. HOO BOY, KICK ME IN THE ASS AND CALL ME AN ASSHOLE.

The moral of this story is that I lost control, but I got it back. These last few weeks were really emotionally draining and made me remember that madness is the most life-sucking out of all the emotions and I will happily go back to working on my anger management skills. Admitting that you’re wrong really sucks, especially when it involves an explosive situation, but owning it really made me a great wave of relief. I am ready to move on. How did I used to be like this all of the time?? Being a bitch is not a good look on me, I know that. I felt so fucking ugly after both of those screaming episodes.

Oh, one final thing – the guy I yelled at about the radio? Didn’t know it then but EVIDENTLY!!! he is the landlord’s son and he’s moving into Rob’s vacated side of HNC’s house. GREAT FIRST IMPRESSION HE HAS OF ME. Very fucking excited about that.

Wait, one more final thing – today also happens to be 143 Day in Pennsylvania, a day to commemorate Mister Rogers by spreading kindness. Mister Rogers used the code 143 to mean “I love you,” and it ALSO just so happens that Stray Kids have a song called Case 143 so let’s end this tense and uncomfy blog post on a high note! I already posted the official MV for this song when it came out, but here’s the performance video!

My friend Rachel’s daughter is currently playing Mimi in a local production of Rent. She texted me the info to me the other day in case I was looking for something to do this weekend, and you know what? I was actually. And also, it was timely because there was a Rent question in Trivial Pursuit when we were playing on the night of Chooch’s belated birthday cake celebration and he was so pissed that I got it right without having ever seen it. I don’t really like musicals, ok??

But what I do like is supporting local theater and my friends’ kids, plus I recently found out that Janna is some kind of Queen Rent Head so I figured it would be something for us to do together that was a change for her coming to my house and being hostilely quizzed on the 23* members of NCT.

*(Actually, it’s 22 now. Lucas officially announced his departure from WayV & NCT. DO NOT GET ME STARTED.)

The ComTra Theater is in Cranberry, which is like 35 minutes away, but all I know is that the whole time I kept thinking, “When did Cranberry get so far away? Has it always been this far away??” It really felt like it took for-fucking-ever to get there. And then as soon as we walked in, I was like, “OH SHIT” because it was much smaller than I thought, and very hot. I almost immediately started to sweat through my shirt so I can only imagine what it must have been like for the performers.

PRE-SHOW BATHROOM SELFIE. JANNA WAS STILL IN A STALL.

PRE-SHOW SELFIE. I liked Janna’s shirt a lot!

Anyway, she immediately asked me to switch seats with her so she could be on the end and I was like “UGH FINE” but then she ended up having the stage partially obscured by a pillar so who’s laughing now?! A dad and his young daughter filled the last two seats in our row, and the people in front of us were normal. No one sat behind us. I was content with our section.

The show started around 2pm and I thought it was really cute! (Is that weird? I mean, the subject matter isn’t “cute” and I’m sure the teens performing in it would not appreciate being called “cute”- BUT THEY FUCKING WERE!)  I mean, I had almost NO idea what was going on for most of it because I couldn’t hear a lot of the lyrics (the house band was WAY TOO LOUD) and also I was getting v. antsy. Intermission didn’t happen until 3:30 (!!!) and I said, “Isn’t this supposed to be over at 4? Will they be able to get the rest done in 30 minutes?” and Janna goes, “Oh, there’s still an entire other half. There is no way this is over at 4pm.”

Do you know me? I hate sitting. Even when I am being entertained! So, while I was enjoying the show very much because those kids were insanely talented, I also was ready for it be over. It’s who I am, OK? I am also like this during pretty much every movie I go to see in a theater, slyly checking the time on my FitBit.

One of the guys looked so much like Judd Nelson specifically in his Breakfast Club role that it was all I could see throughout the whole entire show. It was crazy. I saw him up close afterward and while the resemblance was less uncanny, it was still there. I hope to god that is his next role.

My other thought was that the one main kid looked like the spitting image of Janna’s high school boyfriend Matt which amplified his annoyance to me. I’m not sure if his character was meant to be annoying but I definitely kind of zoned out whenever it was one of his songs, sorry kid.

BUT THEN DURING INTERMISSION, JANNA GOES, “That kid that plays <striped sweater guy / I could not keep track of the characters’ names> is sooooo cute!” and I died. Honestly.

I didn’t tell her until afterward when we were walking to my car that he reminded me of MATT so it was not shocking to me that she basically imprinted on him as soon as the lights went down. She was like, “O M F G” and then tried to say she only thought he was cute because he had floppy hair.

YEAH LIKE MATT CIRCA 199-WHENEVER!

Overall, it was an enjoyable afternoon! I was happy to support Rachel and her daughter, who is a freaking powerhouse. Girl can perform her ass off! The only downside was that the theater’s website lists all of kinds of ADULT BEVS but all they had was WATER and SOFT DRINKS so I guess the HARD WETS are for evening shows only?! I was going to treat myself to a White Claw (the website had approx. 12 varieties of tastes listed) but it was probably for the best considering I was driving and the journey home was fraught with missed exits and merging mayhem. Anytime I have to drive on BIG ROADS, I’m screaming like Pee Wee driving over a hillside, thanks to Henry conditioning me to being a perma-passenger and hardly-ever-driver.

When I wasn’t emitting battle cries every time I had to merge, I asked Janna lots of questions about Rent and she seemed happy to answer them because this was like her time to shine, you know? For example, I texted her just a bit ago and asked what the fuck was the significance to the drywall bucket that kept popping up in some scenes and she explained that one of the characters was using it as a drum in the beginning and then they were using it to panhandle later. Those were the examples she gave me, but I SAW IT POP UP MORE THAN TWO OCCASIONS so I was wondering if there was an INSIDE JOKE or something that someone who pays her rent wouldn’t understand. It just felt like someone was always carrying it like maybe it was the stage pet or the communal security blanket, I dunno.

Also, I still don’t understand why that Joanne person was on the phone so much. Who was she talking to? Out of all the actors, she was the one I could hear the least and I feel like I missed a lot. Maybe I should watch the movie. (I will probably never watch the movie.)

And that concludes my once-every-four-years attempt to be cultural! It was an enjoyable afternoon which left me swearing that I will do these things more often but…we know how that goes!

Sometime in the beginning of April, Chooch casually said that he needed a ride to the Northside.

“For sailing?” he said, like we are so fucking dumb for not knowing this.

Anyone who has ever dealt with a teenager in any capacity knows how hard it is to pull one concise strand of information from them. They like to give it in pieces. Over time. Cryptically. Usually omitting pertinent chunks because you’re expected to ‘use context clues’ to ‘fill in the blanks.’ Why should they have to do all of the work!? Relying information is HARD. Especially when it is PROBABLY IN PAPER-FORM HANDED TO THEM AT SCHOOL BY A TEACHER WITH THE ASSUMPTION THAT IT WILL MAKE ITS WAY TO THE PARENT/GUARDIAN.

OK, so anyway. All we knew was that some of Chooch’s friends had signed up for some sailing class thing and I guess Chooch decided to also go.

We asked questions like, “Where on the Northside is this?” “What time is it over?” “Does it cost anything?”

Of course, these queries were met with a snarly scoffed, “I don’t know.” 

I thought it was like, a one-time thing? But he’s been going every Saturday and apparently, it’s some type of a certification program!?!? He came home from school one day and said that he had to take a swimming test for this…this…whatever this is. To which I said we’d have to talk to his doctor about first even though swimming would probably be ok with a knee injury (I don’t know!).

He goes, “Ok well, I already took it and passed, here sign this.”

Why do I even bother attempting to parent this person who evidently is an actual adult who doesn’t need any help and goes through his own alternative channels (forging our sigs when needed, obtaining them after-the-fact if possible).

Well, apparently the swimming test was so that he could participate in the CAPSIZING TEST which happened last Saturday. In the RIVER. IN THE RAIN. Ugh.

THEN! One day last week, he didn’t come home from school until around 6. No texts, nothing. Henry and I were like “????” when he strode through the door in a manner so relaxed he should have been also casually chewing on a piece of hay. He looked at us like we were the ones in the wrong, and goes, “I was at sailing?” like we were supposed to know this.

I asked how he got there, and he said, “Dr. K.”

WHO TF IS THAT?? Apparently, a teacher at his school. So now the pieces are starting to fall into place. Somehow his school is involved in this…

And I’m sure SOMEWHERE there are papers that he was probably supposed to give us to read. (Probably already “signed” by us though.)

At work, my friend Nate said, “It’s like National Treasure! You and Henry are racing to figure out the mystery of Chooch’s nautical activities.”

Yes, exactly! Racing to figure out the mystery of his life in general! He has always been like this, dropping crumbs for us and then leaving us to figure it out on our own, for as long as he’s been old enough to leave the house. So, basically since he started school.

I still don’t really know much about this, except that sometimes the location of the “classes” is the Carnegie Science Center, and that now he has a yellow rope which he sometimes absent-mindedly carries around with him, swinging it lazily.

SIDE NOTE: I don’t think I ever knew what Christopher Cross looked like!??