Oh boy here are the books I read in the second half of January, and I also want to mention that Henry just read “In the Dream House” which was one of my faves from last year and I am SO PROUD of him for giving it a chance because this is decidedly not a Very Henry Book but he read it and HE LIKED IT. (He did admit that some parts went over his head though lolol.)

(I asked him if he even felt any emotions and he was so offended and scoffed, “YES. I’M NOT DEAD INSIDE.”)

7. Sigh, Gone: A Misfit’s Memoir of Great Books, Punk Rock, and the Fight to Fit In – Phuc Tran

The tagline on the cover was enough to get me to pick me up but Phuc’s writing brought it to the next level. There was one part that stood out where he describes his immersion into the punk scene as a way to be considered a misfit or outcast for something other than the color of his skin.

Phuc’s humor & accounts of high school hijinx with his skater crew often made me feel like I was reading the script for an 80s teen movie and it was beyond entertaining, but then he would turn around and show us what he was going through at home with his Vietnamese parents who just wanted to provide the best life they could for their kids but didn’t always do that in the best ways.

Anyway, Phuc is currently a tattoo artist in Maine and I want a tattoo from him in the worst way now.

8. The Ghost Tree – Christina Henry

How is this the same person who wrote Alice, which I read in December and loved?! This book was not great!  Something about it reminded me of that guy Grady Hendrix who everyone thinks is such a great horror writer and I’m always just like, “THIS WAS SO CORNY!” That’s how this felt, except that it was targeted more for young adults, I think so Christina Henry can get away with that a bit more I guess.

I don’t even feel like discussing this, to be honest.

9. Weather – Jenny Offill 

OK excuse me please but this book was OFFILL.

Sorry, I had to.

But this book was really bad. It was like someone printed out random LiveJournal entries from 2002, bound them and then made some OK collage for a cover. I had absolutely no idea what was going on, what the point was, who the characters were…this was such a waste of time.

10. Moshi Moshi – Banana Yoshimoto 

I think this book cover is so lovely.

Moshi, Moshi was a very short book yet it took me nearly the entire month to read it. First of all, it’s not broken up into chapters and books like that make me nervous. I need to have a solid place to end my reading sessions! Second, it’s just a very slow-moving, quiet exploration of the grieving process. The main character’s (Yoshie) father has been murdered and she moves out shortly thereafter, only to have her mother follow. Her mom claims that their old apartment is haunted now, which gives a false impression that this book is going to be a ghost story. It’s really not. It’s more about how Yoshie and her mother each find different ways to move forward from the death.

I didn’t NOT enjoy this book, but it wasn’t something that I am going to find myself ever thinking about again, if that makes sense. You know me and my wishy-washy book reviews. The best part about this book was that I learned from a Goodreads review that Japanese people say “Moshi moshi’ when they answer the phone because ghosts can only say it once. THAT IS THE COOLEST FACT I’VE LEARNED RECENTLY. (I don’t know very many cool Japan facts since Korea is my wheelhouse.)

Anyway, I don’t even know if that’s true.

11. The Music Shop – Rachel Joyce

I didn’t know how badly I needed to read this book. I had never even heard of it and then one day it was recommended on Scribd and I wanted something to listen to while working – UGH IT WAS SO TOUCHING. Anyone who loves music will relate to this.

The side characters are like a British Stars Hollow motley crew, and the two main characters (Frank, who owns a record shop in the 80s and is violently resisting the growing demand for CDs; and Ilse, a woman visiting from Germany who has her own love story with music) are so well-written and I was rooting for them bigly.

I cried like a baby at the end. This book was so sweet.

12.  You Say It First – Katie Cotugno

This was OK. We have a girl in Philly who is super into politics and works at a voter registration call center after school, where she cold-calls a house in Ohio and has a combative conversation with the teenage boy of the family who starts questioning her spiel and OMG HOW DARE HE and of course this turns into some kind of sketchy long-distance frenemy sitch until suddenly they realize that they’re more real with each other than they are with their actual friends. Yadda yadda yadda – we all know this story, but now add politics into the obligatory teen drama.

It actually reminded me of when I worked at Olan Mills as a telemarketer when I was 18 (can you imagine!? I was actually extremely great at it because this was back when I had a super outrageous personality before life and toxic work places beat me down into the bland, insecure pulp I am today. Anyway!! This one night, I ended up calling a guy who declined my offer for a photo package because he was actually a photography major at the Art Institute yet we hit it off for no reason other than we were both young and opposite sex and you know how when you’re young, it doesn’t take much. My manager was like majorly side-eying me for being on the phone for too long so we exchanged numbers and then when I got home that night we talked for HOURS to the point where our conversation took its natural course to us getting married, moving to Montana*, and getting a sheepdog.

*(Weird because I literally can’t imagine myself ever living there so he must have caught me in a good mood.)

I can’t even remember this guy’s name now – JOE?! – but we did end up meeting in real life at the mall. My friend Brian took me there and made sure I was OK before leaving and then JOE?! and I took the bus (literally the first and last time I was ever on a PAT bus) to his apartment in Southside, messed around (lol), and then he took me to a nearby cafe to meet his friends at which time he turned into a different person and I was like EW I DO NOT LIKE YOU ANYMORE and he was like “stay over” and I was like “NO THANK YOU” and had to call my mom to come pick me up at 2am because I didn’t have my license yet LOL.

I think we talked on the phone occasionally after that (I have a recollection of him moving out of state – I think he wasn’t from Pittsburgh and had moved home – and then moving back and getting in touch?) but I was like “Dude you can shove your Montana dreams, I was already in one shitty relationship and I will not be treated like common trash just because you’re trying to look cool in front of your friends” and this is the part that I related to in the book because they end up meeting up IRL and he takes her to a party and all his friends are total rural bros who make misogynistic jokes and think all women are meant to fetch beers, and now the dude isn’t acting like he normally does when they’re on the phone and I FELT THAT.

God, what was that guy’s name!?!? I used to have a picture of him too and now I don’t even know where that is. I just remember he wore JNCO pants and had several piercings because ART SCHOOL.

Anyway, those are the books I read in January. You’re welcome.

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Last night I was reminded of the time when I referenced cabbage in every blog post for an entire month and no one noticed. I asked Henry if he remembered that and he said, “Yeah….why? Did someone finally notice?” in an incredulous tone that implied disbelief that anyone still reads it. Whatever, Henry! So I was inspired to self-boost my blog stats by revisiting the cabbage posts from that month and in the process, I came across the post from the time I coerced Janna into going to a house show with me at a frat house in Oakland and then I started cracking up SO BAD at the memory of that night that I had to run upstairs and wake up Henry to laugh-wheeze in his face and he was like, “OK psycho, are you done? Then turn off the light.”

(I have to warn you that I pulled out some old vacation journals and that has also been cracking me up because I’m a fucking stand-up narcissist I guess, so be prepared for some of that shit coming up in the future since I have no life currently and am living in the past.)

OK anyway, this is from July 2015 and it was such a fun/funny/weird night.

****

Sometime last month, Kurt Travis posted that he was trying to book a house show in Pittsburgh. It was an off day for the headlining solo tour he was doing and if you’re a regular reader or have the misfortune of working with me, you may recall that I begged Glenn to let me offer his house.

Spoiler: he said no.

But luckily, some guy took care of business and promoted the house show on Twitter. My emotions ran a veritable Tough Mudder.

First, I was completely stoked because I haven’t seen Kurt since the last time he was with A Lot Like Birds and I think that was 2 years ago at this point.

Second, I was overwhelmed because a house show meant Kurt would be totally accessible and you know how ridiculous I get. BANDS ARE PEOPLE TOO, ERIN.

Third, the tiny modicum of adult rationality I keep buried beneath my abundance of wanton abandon managed to surface and I was concerned for my safety because this house is in collegeland and what if it turned into a HOUSE PARTY and I get roofied? DOES THAT STILL HAPPEN? I’m pretty far removed from all of that.

Fourth, I felt preemptively self-conscious because while I don’t FEEL old, for this particular music scene, I AM old. It would be much less easy for me to blend in at a house show.

Fifth, I felt panicked because every single person I asked to go with me said no. If this show was at a venue, I wouldn’t have even bothered asking anyone. I’d have just gone alone.

Sixth, whimpering pity party sadness that Terri, the only friend I have who even knows who Kurt Travis is, lives in stupid Philly.

Glenn and Todd were loving this.

“You’ll have to show us the stitches from where they take your kidney,” Glenn said before he left work on Friday.

And Todd was all, “I used to live in Oakland [where the house is located] and nothing good happens in any of those houses.”

Oh and before you ask, Henry said no before the details of the house show were even finalized.

I had a small glimmer of hope when I ran into Blake’s ex-girlfriend Shannon at the mall Wednesday night. She is acquaintances with the guy who booked the show and said she was certain he wouldn’t roofie me, but that she didn’t know any of his friends, so…. But then she said she might be there and I got really excited so she reiterated the “might” part.

My seventh emotion was that of RELIEF on the day of the show when Janna agreed to go with me.

***

I made Henry drop us off there because I wasn’t trying to add the stress of parking in Oakland to my teetering stack of worries. First, I made him do a case of the house, which was actually a row house that seemed to have zero activity going on around it. But then we saw a group of young people (probably 21?) walking toward it so Henry was like, “Get out.”

“Not until they’re gone!” I cried. I didn’t want them to see me getting out of my dad’s car, god Henry.

It was around 7:30, so…now or ever. Janna and I tentatively climbed the steps to Planet Vegeta (lol). The front door was open so I walked in and found some guy lounging on the couch in a room that was in your standard college kid state of haphazard uncleanliness, the promise of tetanus  and rodent infestation lurking beneath every casually-strewn pizza box.

“Is this where the Kurt Travis show is?” I asked the comfortable man.

“Yep, it is!” he answered not in the apathetic manner I was anticipating, but in a friendly, inviting tone instead.

When I’m nervous, self-deprecation falls out of me like hot, salty ejaculate from the mouth of a hooker with strep throat. (Sorry for the porn-fingers.) I vaguely recall saying something about being “too old for these things hahahahah *kill me*” and he just laughed and said, “Everyone is out back. Make yourself at home!”

So, narrowly avoiding kicking a soccer ball through a window, we wound our way through the kitchen and out a screen door, where KURT TRAVIS was hanging out with the other bands. Small cliques of people were sitting around awkwardly, so add two more to the awkward party, I guess!

It was REALLY uncomfortable for about the first 20 minutes. I’m not going to lie, there was a split second when I considered leaving. But then Dylan, the guy who booked the show, came over to take our money and mark our hands with a green X. Someone put on an 80s playlist, Madonna first and then The Cure came on which calmed my nerves considerably. Especially when the music stopped because the owner of the phone it was playing from had to make a call, and when he came back, someone asked, “What should we put on now?”

“I was happy with The Cure, but whatever,” Kurt said in a way that meant “PUT THE CURE BACK ON.”

(They did not put The Cure back on, but whatever.)

Then Janna was like, “I really hate to have to do this—” and here is where I thought she was going to hold up her phone and show me that her Uber confirmation because SEEYA, this scene ain’t for me, bitch!

“—-but I have to use the bathroom really bad and I’m so afraid to go back in there.”

Oh, thank god that’s all!

But then I realized that this meant she was going to be leaving me out there, alone, OMG.

A minute later she came back.

“There’s no one in there to ask,” she complained.

“OMG, just go back in and look for the bathroom. I promise you that these people give zero fucks about a strange girl using their bathroom,” I said. It was bad enough that I was already the Old Lady at the House Show. I didn’t want to also become The Old Lady at the House Show With the Other Old Lady Who Shit Herself.

And so Janna forged her way back into the house and located the bathroom without even needing a map, as evidenced by the victory text I received from her that said, “I found it. Nobody here to care that I walked up here.”

Janna, conquering frat house floor plans, one campus at a time.

Meanwhile, I was leaning against Divorce.’s van, cracking the fuck up by myself, because what a fucking night already. It’s funny how this shit is normal when you’re 20 years old, but when you’re 35, every single second of it was fucking hilarious. I kept texting updates t o Henry, Corey, and Wendy, who actually said that she would have gone with me if she didn’t have to go to a wedding. AND SHE IS PREGNANT, YOU GUYS. That is a true friend.

Then a rousing game of hacky sack started up and I was silently praying that no one would kick it to me because I am a failure at hackying the sacks.

I texted Henry, “Some guy* is sitting in Kurt’s van, staring at me. He looks like a young Charles Manson, help.”

Henry: “Lol.”

Thanks, Henry!

*(I couldn’t figure out where I knew him from, because he looked so familiar. I was running down a list of bands in my head, but I couldn’t place him in any of them. Turns out he was helping with merch on this tour and I recognized him because the Blue Swan scene is so small and I’m always seeing him pop up on Instagram and Twitter because he’s friends with pretty much all of those bands. I am way too immersed in this scene, help me, I’m drowning.)

Around 8:15, divorce. was ready to start and everyone was ushered down a precarious set of spiraling concrete steps into a tiny basement, and then the night proceeded to go from 100% awkward to 100% FUCKING AWESOME.

These guys are from here (Pittsburgh), and that makes me proud because they are just the kind of passionate, gritty emo/grunge band that I find myself often craving.  I’m keeping on an eye (and an ear, oh ho!) on these ones. They’re gonna go places.

I already can’t wait to see them again!

After their set, everyone retreated for the cool air. We sat down in the parking lot and Janna complained about being sweaty and wanting water. That’s not being very punk rock, Janna.

While we were waiting for Save Us From the Archon, Janna and I talked about looking for new jobs, trying to get out and do more things, and Chooch. It occurred to me that we were sitting in a back lot with a bunch of people 10+ years younger than us passing around bowls and drinking cans of cheap beer, while we were talking about grown-up life bullshit.

It’s ridiculous that this post is so age-focused but please remember that the music scene I’m into is young and I really am an anomaly.

And then Janna said, with just a note of surprise to her tone, “I liked that band! They were good!”

“Well duh, Janna. I don’t like sucky music!” scoffed my music-snob alter ego. Seriously! If people would actually pay attention to what I say, then maybe they would be listening to good music, too. NO ONE TAKES ME SERIOUSLY! #pityppartyonpioneeravenue

This was my second time seeing local mathcore favorites Save Us From the Archon. If you don’t like any music along the lines of post-rock, then you probably definitely won’t like SUFTA. Me? I think they’re brilliantly gifted musicians and, as someone who has no musical talent (save for playing the clarinet moderately well in middle school), it blows my mind watching their hands and fingers move and trying to work out in my feeble mind how they play such crazy-technical shit that makes my chest feel like an alien is about to punch its way out. It’s a frenetic, metal-tinged meltdown in all of the best senses.

(Needless to say, Henry was not sad that he was missing them. We saw them last year at the Hail the Sun/Stolas/Icarus the Owl show at Smiling Moose.)

There was a girl nearby who looked in awe and said, “OK, I am definitely learning how to play the guitar.” That made me happy.

While SUFTA was playing, the sun had set, so we retreated from the basement to an absolutely beautiful, mild night. There was even a slight breeze and it felt so fucking good after sweating in that basement. “It’s practically winter out here!” I said to the girl who wants to learn the guitar and she agreed and THAT IS HOW YOU TALK TO PEOPLE, APPARENTLY. I’m relearning these things.

Some young guy walked past us and said, “I have to sit down; my legs are killing me.”

I laughed and said to Janna, “God, who’s the old person now!?”

You guys, that’s Kurt going nuts during Adventurer’s set, no big deal. He kept grabbing the mic and singing along. It’s fucking refreshing that there is so much camaraderie and passion between bands. They told us that Kurt is their mom, which is adorable because you can tell that he looks after the young bands he take s on the road with him and I JUST WANTED TO CRY because I’m an emotional wreck even on a good day. Add amazing live music to the mix and I’m suddenly a house wife watching a Nicholas Sparks movie.

(By the way, Adventurer? They’re a three-piece post-hardcore band from Michigan. Go get stoked on them, NOW. Kurt doesn’t just take any run of the mill band on tour with him.)

Oh god, and then Kurt. I’ve seen him twice with Dance Gavin Dance, three times (at least) with A Lot Like Birds, and once by himself when he was on Jonny Craig’s solo tour in 2012, but none of those times even come close to being as perfect as this was. It doesn’t get much more intimate than seeing a singer you respect that much…..in some dude’s basement.

Adventurer acted as his backing band, and there was a hilarious moment where Kurt hunted down Steven (Adventurer’s guitarist) and kept trying to kiss him until, at last, he was successful and everyone cheered.

He sang “Desperate” and I was like *HEART EYES* because that song punches me in the gut every time.

At one point, Kurt brought up the fact that he was the oldest person in the room, I can’t remember why it came up now. But we made eye contact when he said that and I shook my head “no.”

“If anyone in this room is older than 31, raise your hand.”

I raised my hand.

“You??” he said in a shocked tone, which let me tell you, I truly appreciated. “No.”

“Yep. I’m 35!” I announced, and everyone craned their necks to get a good look at the token old broad.

Kurt shook his head and smiled. “Damn, I thought for sure I was the oldest one here! OK then, I dedicate this next song to you!”

O M F G.

In that moment, I was filled with gratitude that Janna was there as a witness. FINALLY, BEING OLD WORKED IN MY FAVOR!

(I still don’t feel old though. And I was showing more signs of life than half of those comatose motherfuckers last night!)

Kurt asked, “Anyone here like The Cure?” There were only two of us in the basement who answered affirmatively. Kurt told us that when he was a kid growing up in Sacramento, his mom was a dancer for Reebok and Adidas and he would often accompany her on drives back and forth to LA, where he would spend a lot of time listening to The Cure, specifically “Disintegration.”

“This next song was heavily influenced by The Cure,” he explained, before playing “Everything Is Beautiful.”

Meanwhile, Steven had stepped on glass or a syringe or who knows what and a small pool of blood had formed on the basement floor while the tour manager ran to get a first aid kit. And he just kept right on playing.

Kurt declined Steven’s request for him to kiss it.

I don’t even know what else to say about this night other hearing his beautiful voice within a small cinderblock-walled room was something that I will never forget and I definitely would have lived to regret it had I not gone, just like I still to this day regret missing a Frank Turner house show in 2010 because I had just started an evening assignment with a temp agency, ugh forever. I remember that I considered calling off and Henry, who rarely says no to me, gave me a Look that said, “Are you fucking kidding me, we’ve been poor as FUCK for the last year, you are GOING TO THIS JOB AND YOU ARE GETTING PAID.” Ugh, sometimes Henry has a point.

***

After the show, I waited semi-patiently while two guys fan-girled in Kurt’s face, because I had decided that I was not leaving this house without officially meeting him. And saying, “Can you sign this?” after I bought his EP from him in 2012 does not count.

“It was totally worth being the oldest broad in the room for this,” I said, trying not to gush.

“I couldn’t believe anyone here was going to be older than me!” he laughed.

Then Janna popped up from out of nowhere and said, “I’m older than her, just so you know” and I was like “GTFO YOU ARE NOT GOING TO RUIN MY MOMENT!” so then she retreated into her hole and I went on to tell him that I’ve always been a huge Dance Gavin Dance fan, and I obviously love his current band A Lot Like Birds, so it was worth enduring a potentially awkward situation to see him that night.

He graciously thanked me AND THEN GAVE ME A HUG!

He told me a little bit about the tour, and how he was said that In Angles couldn’t be there tonight (and I was sad too because I have been listening to them ever since he first gave them a shout out on Instagram) and it’s just really awesome how humble he is, and always ready to support and promote other bands before talking about his own. He is a real diamond in this scene.

I didn’t want to keep him any longer, so I wished him safe travels and then Janna and I headed out of the basement.

“Way to steal my moment, Janna! God, I was waiting for you to pull out your cane to prove you’re older than me!” and Janna laughed but I was serious!

Then Henry and Chooch rolled up and I screamed in Henry’s face, “KURT TRAVIS DEDICATED A SONG TO ME AND HE HUGGGGGGGGED ME!!!” Henry was like “…..” but Chooch had a ton of questions about this, because Chooch gets it, you guys.

***

This night.

It was utter perfection.

In fact, it was better than rolling cabbages down a hill toward Jonny Craig bowling pins.

P.S. In case you care, this is my all-time favorite Kurt Travis song even though it’s a Dance Gavin Dance song:

P.P.S. I survived and my organ-count is the same as it was Saturday morning, so in your face, GLENN!

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You guys, Sugar Spell Scoops has returned from their much-deserved January hiatus, just in time for Valentine’s Day! Their cupid-approved comeback featured 6 flavors, but I managed to repress my inner pig and only ordered 4. I try to reason that I’m giving other people a chance. It is literally Pint Panic during these pre-orders, you guys. Their ice cream is highly sought after and their winning reputation has been growing with each release. So, if you don’t sent a reminder on your phone and sit there hitting refresh like you’re trying to buy Blackpink concert tickets, then lolololol have fun eating your SO Delicious.

Be My Valentine is their Feb 14th spin on their famous Dunkaroo flavor, which was the first scoop Chooch ever got from Sugar Spell and I remember having flavor-remorse that day because I of course liked my choice but after he gave me a taste of his, I was straight up coveting it. So now I always make sure to snag a pint when it’s part of a pre-order! This version has chocolate Teddy Grahams and pink funfetti buttercream frosting swirls which honestly disengages my self-control and I just want to sit in a dark closet with my pint and spoon it into my slobbering mouth with my bare hands.

Chooch proclaimed Burnin’ Love as his favorite – it’s chocolate ice cream with mini chips, cinnamon and cayenne pepper. Woo boy, that subtle throat burn is perfection! Also, I have said this on here before and I’m not just being hyperbolic but Sugar Spell makes the best chocolate ice cream I have ever had and it’s even more incredible when you remember, as that rich chocolate pillow of flavor melts on your tongue, that this IS VEGAN.

AMBROSIA!!! I was determined to get this one because my mom made ambrosia for every summer cookout we had when I was growing up – to this day I’m always like “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG” if I go to someone else’s party and they don’t have a big fucking bowl of ambrosia (or strawberry pretzel salad! If you can’t have both, at least pick one!). I did a whole post here last summer about summer picnic salads. It is actually stupid how on point this ice cream version is.

Perfect Matcha is obviously matcha, but also stawberry rose ice cream topped with rose petals! It’s mine all mine because neither Henry nor Chooch like matcha (well, I think Chooch is ok with matcha but he doesn’t love floral flavors in food) and oh baby this is so refreshing. It’s just the right amount of rose without leaving you with that cloying, accidental perfume inhalation taste in the back of your throat, you know what I mean? Sometimes, floral-flavors can be too heavy-handed, or they can just catch you off guard and leave you with a choking fit in the middle of a temple on a Hare Krishna compound when you imbibe water without knowing it had been steeped with an entire rose garden even though your FRIEND JANNA tried to warn you.

Ah, Sugar Spell – welcome back. You were missed!

Next up in vegan food pre-orders,  Onion Maiden’s occasional pop-up The Ramen returned this weekend, and I excitedly pre-ordered two bowls of spicy ramen for Chooch and me, and then the Flower People cheesecake which we will get to in a second….but first – RAMEN CLOSE-UP:

Now let’s get into this cheesecake! It’s made with ube & peach cashew cheesecake, with a soft helmet of cashew cream, chamomile, raspberry dust, and coconut.

It was so rich and dense that I willingly shared it with Henry.

We ordered two pieces though so you might catch me eating while crying in the shower because I’m going through some emotions lately HAHAHA ugh.

Anyway – back to Ambrosia Talk. Whenever Sugar Spell announced that as a flavor, I started a conversation on Instragram with Amanda (Sugar Spell’s mastermind) about how nostalgic this is and she told me that her grandma used to make a variation of it called Frog Eye Salad, which I have never heard of and became immediately obsessed as soon as Amanda mentioned that it contains PASTA.

She sent me the veganized recipe she uses and when I passed it on to Henry, he was intrigued enough to make it last night. I am here now to tell you that it is delicious and the pasta gives it the BEST texture!!

SO GOOD! And it’s not overly sugary or heavy so it makes a nice snack or a breakfast side (I may have done both today lol).

Here’s the recipe Amanda sent me if anyone is interested!

 

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Hey word-nerds. I figured I would keep up this book list on here because it’s fun and I don’t have much else going on. I decided at the end of my 2020 challenge that I definitely do not want to read over 200 books again. I mean – that was nuts and I would like to have more time like, watch a k-drama or something.

I think I set a goal of 50, which seems reasonable and not hyper-obsessive. Right? Except that I still have all this momentum and ended up reading 12 books in January regardless, but I am going to make a conscious effort to slow the eff down from here on out, I swear to myself.

Anyway, here are the first 6 books I read in January, which was an “OK” reading month.

1. Pizza Girl – Jean Kyoung Frazier

What a weird little effing book this one was! Every so often, I take advantage of my library’s recommendation service and the librarian this time around gave me some right recs. We follow an 18-year-old pregnant Korean American, out of high school and lost, working at a pizza shop, when one day she takes a call from a frenzied mom begging for pickles to be added to her son’s pizza. Intrigued by this, the girl then goes out of her way to procure  the pickles and after delivering the pizza, she starts to become obsessed with the lady.

This book was so uncomfortable at times, funny, sad — there’s an underlying exploration of grief that I could relate to more than I wanted to, as it becomes clear that the girl never fully mourned the semi-recent death of her alcoholic father.

I don’t know, I really vibed with this and it was a great book to kick off the new year! Also, the cover is amaze.

2.  The Party – Robyn Harding

LOL this book was so bad. In regard to the blurb on the front cover: This was more like if a 12-year-old binged Big Little Lies and then tried to write her own version of it. Every single character was written SO POORLY.  The pizza in the book above had more personality than anyone in this book, which is a shame because it was multi-POV and I usually really enjoy books written that way.

Dumb dumb dumb. I hate being a shithead toward published authors because obviously what have I published, but not only was the plot just….huh??….but the writing was bland and unexceptional. Basically, this is something that a mom would grab at an airport bookstand last minute and forget about by the time the plane lands. Skip this!!

3. Us Against You (Beartown #2) – Fredrik Backman

My friend Eve commented a few months ago and told me that she liked Beartown but she LOVED Us Against You. I thought these were strong words because I LOVED BEARTOWN and couldn’t even imagine how a sequel could best the original.

And then I read it and with saline-swollen eyes and a stuffy nose, I wailed, “SHE WAS RIGHHHHHHHT.” This book is everything. I have since also gotten Janna and Henry to read both and we are like a small little Pittsburgh chapter of the Beartown Bros.

We’re still following Hockey Lyfe in Beartown, most of the characters from the first book are back but we get some new ones too and I can’t stress enough how masterful Backman is at writing characters. Every character has a purpose. Every sentence matters. I sobbed my face off numerous times during my reading journey because the people in this book feel so fucking real to me, my heart aches anytime something bad happens to them.

Drew was actually staring at me with huge concerned eyeballs when I finished the last page because I was legit ugly-sobbing. Like, CRYING OUT LOUD.

You do not have to be a hockey person to enjoy these books. Please read them. A third one is coming out at some point and I am considering medication before I start reading it. Oof.

4. Little Fires Everywhere – Celeste Ng

This one kept getting bumped off my TBR last year but I made a point of getting it read in 2021. By now, you probably have at least heard of this thanks to the Reese Witherspoon Hulu adaptation, which I have not seen.

I thought this book was OK! I enjoyed the references to Bethel Park, which isn’t shocking since the author grew up in Pittsburgh, but overall I didn’t really connect to it like I had hoped to. I read “Everything I Never Told You” last year and thought that one was INCREDIBLE. The emotions felt so tangible to me while reading it and I guess I had expected the same from Little Fires. I think if I had read this one first, I would have liked it more but I did think the plot was super interesting and really gave you a lot to think about (if you read this, I’m sure you will know which side I was on).

I needed more Izzy though. She was fucking amazing. Give Izzy her own story!!

5. All the Birds, Singing – Evie Wyld

HOLY.FUCKING.SHIT. Is Evie Wyld a master at timeline fuckery? Yes, I believe she is. After I read “The Bass Rock” last year, I was really eager to devour more of her words and All the Birds did not disappoint. It’s weird how I can handle the most gory horror, abuse, rape etc in books, but as soon as you start adding “animal stuff” I am like, THIS BOOK IS HARD TO READ. And that’s how it was this. Lots of sheep killing, there are some pretty graphic scenes, but everything matters. It didn’t feel gratuitous.

Like The Bass Rock, this one took me a bit to decode the timeline, but once I did, I kind of sat up straight and said out loud, “Wait…is this…did she really…wow.” It’s just….WYLD. Lol.

I actually need to re-read this one at some point, now that I have a better understanding of the timeline. I love it when you’re reading a book and it just suddenly clicks. This book is a treasure!

6. Harrow Lake – Kat Ellis 

I actually kind of liked this more than I thought I would considering it’s a YA thriller/mystery. The daughter of a famous horror movie director goes back to the town where his most famous film was set, and accidentally falls into a mission to find out what really happened to her mom. Is this something that I will remember years from now? Nope. Did it provide some entertainment via audiobook while I was slogging through a miserable workday? Yeah boi. And that’s really all I can ask for.

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Is it weird to have your own art hanging in your house? I don’t think so, I guess. Most of my art is birthed from inside jokes (like the Tony Stewart portrait I painted for Henry while he was at store and he didn’t even appreciate it or the Ham Sandwich AF painting after I watched a Mamas and the Papas documentary) or inexplicably deep-seated obsessions (like this strange amalgamation of celebs with a token serial killer). I don’t really *miss* painting all that much, surprisingly considering it did provide some catharsis for a time, but it does make me smile to have some remnants of that Somnambulant Years scattered around my house. So for this Friday Five, I will show you OMG FIVE HOW DID YOU GUESS pieces of what I still consider “my fake art” because my grandma really gave me a complex when I was a teenager and said I wanted to go to art school in San Francisco and she scoffed and huffed, “Well, I’m not paying for that.” Lol.

1. Twin Peaks Montage

I actually never finished this (the red is pretty streaky and I never even sprayed it) because I knew pretty much from the get-go that I wasn’t going to sell it since I love Twin Peaks so much and I’m a selfish person – I always had a hard time letting go of some of my paintings, most notably the Pee Wee ones.

2. Stars of the OJ Trial

This one has been half-obscured on a shelf for years but I think I’m ready to get a frame for it and hang it. The OJ Simpson trial was a HUGE PART OF MY LIFE as a teenager (OK maybe only for like 3 months). I don’t know why I was so fixated on it considering I was only like 15 and most teenagers didn’t give a FUCK about the news or whatever back then but I was so sure that OJ was innocent and I actually got kicked out of a class that year for cheering when the verdict came out lololol. And there was the whole Pog saga.

3. HOT JESUS

This is, IMHO, the best painting I ever made I think.

4. BLAH BLAH BLAH CHOOCH CHOOCH CHOOCH.

 

I bought this creepy-ass picture at Goodwill of a young boy and then painted Chooch’s head over top (this was back when he had pink hair, clearly) and surprised him with it.
He was SO MAD about all the “blah”s lol. I remember back when I painted it, Henry’s mom was all Weekend Art Critic about it and I was like, “I know Judy, that’s why I’m a fake artist.”

5. Murder Farm

This one is SO DUMB but I found this basic country/farm picture thing at Goodwill one time and liked the shape and the frame so I added some ghosts and blood and bones and then made Henry hang it in our bedroom and he was like, “HAHAHA – oh, you’re serious.”

So, that’s five. Maybe someday I will share five more.

WOW DARE TO DREAM.

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I’ve been getting back into my Kpop cardio groove in an effort to reclaim some pre-pandemic normalcy and orientation, and I have to wonder why I ever fell out of this practice to begin with because it cheers me up SO MUCH. So I started doing 4 to 5 routines before work and several during my lunch break and I have to say that my mood has definitely improved.

Several times, I have caught Buddy at the window watching me! (HE LETS ME HAND-FEED HIM WALNUTS NOW!!!)

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A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin)

Over the weekend, I went back to one of the OG Kpop workout channels – SarahKpop – who sadly doesn’t post new workouts anymore but at least she kept her channel up so we can still enjoy the old ones. Anyway, doing these older routines felt like a bucket of warm, molten nostalgia was being poured over me and wrapping me up in the safe and comforting arms of a velvet-robed grandma fresh from putting the snickerdoodles in the oven.

There have been so many bangin’ Kpop songs that have come out lately and my favorite Kpop cardio instructor has been churning out the most fun routines for them and I have been LIVING FOR IT.

Two of my favorites right now are Twice’s Cry For Me and Hyuna’s I’m Not Cool:

I fully immersed myself in this at the end of 2016 when I couldn’t take the reality of this country anymore and now I need this more than ever. I cannot pull myself away from the impeachment trial. I know it’s really hampering my mental health and I know these sleazy, piece of shit, spineless ReTrumplicans are going to shit all over democracy and do the selfish thing as usual. So I will dive back into my Kpop lalaland where the language is beautiful, I can distract myself with daydreams of G-Dragon and patbingsu, and best of all there’s no Trump.

(I know this is SO SHOCKING but I dream every day of going back to Korea & the amount of times I scroll through my vacation pictures with fervor might be considered “pathetic” to some people but I call it PASSIONATE lol.)

Anyway, as I sit here and type this, I realized that for once, I’m not dreading waking up tomorrow morning because I know I’m gonna have my toast WITH COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF BUTTER & JELLY and then flail around like Elaine Bennett to some poppin’ Kpop workouts. Yay – endorphins!

(I wonder if I can get Henry to do some kpopping this weekend LIKE OLD TIMES? God knows he has Valentine factory stress to burn off lol.)

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I have always had a TON of Cure memorabilia strewn about my house, so many pictures of Robert Smith hung on my walls that I used to jokingly coo, “That’s your daddy!” when Chooch was but a wee baby.

During the pandemic, I’ve had a lot of time to, you know, STARE AT THE FUCKING WALLS, and I’ve been having some fun floofing the Cure wall downstairs while also slowly adding some more stuff to the new Cure wall upstairs. In my head, my decor makes sense, you guys.

I just think this corner is so cozy. Getting a church pew really added pizzazz (do people do say pizzazz or is that we’re calling people who believe in pizzagate nowadays? Pizzazzes?). I have several more of Chooch’s school pictures that need hung but we’re eventually repainting that wall so I’ve been holding off.

I do want to reframe the Robert portrait though!

That swag lamp was one of the best spontaneous purchases I’ve ever made and even though Henry hits his head off it a lot I think he is mostly ok with it. We got it at some fly-by-night junk store in Cleveland when we were killing time before seeing, I think, Artifex Pereo.

In “upstairs Cure wall” news, I’m starting to add some stuff to the adjacent wall, like these two pictures (one is me meeting Robert! I finally put it in a frame!):

We hung them low so they’re just above-level with the table. You know so when you’re sitting there for no reason, you can look at me handing Robert flowers in Canberra, Australia.

And I have a framed, signed album that also needs to go on that wall but I’m still mulling over the position.

It’s such a fun area! I’m looking for the perfect holy water font to also hang on that wall so I can fill it with candy/mints and then when you come out of the bathroom, you’ll see it on your way back downstairs and say, “Candy? Don’t mind if I do!”

I mean, if anyone is ever able to come over again. Sigh.

It’s also been serving as an exceptional backdrop for non compos product shots!

I am a firm believer of elevating your poster-pasted teenage bedroom walls into “grown up” interior design. If you are passionate about something, let it show! I remember this one time, I think it was 2015, we had to have an ambulance called for Henry’s mom (who thankfully was fine!) and one of the paramedics was looking all around and asked, “so, who likes The Cure?” I mean, the question could have been “who here is the Satanist?” had he looked down first and seen my Devil tarot card rug lol:

I wish we had done this a long time ago. I used to HATE being in this house because it was so dumpy and we don’t own it and I was always so depressed that I couldn’t really be bothered to do anything about it. But it’s been the only…bright side? of this terrible pandemic because being stuck at home has forced us to confront all the parts of this house that needed changed in order for us to stay sane and live comfortably. This is basically if my high school bedroom was a Mogwai that got fed after midnight. One day we will own an entire house and when that happens, I think I will be able to fully realize my outsider-artist interior design dreamscape.

(I actually wanted to be an interior design for a very hot minute when I was 19-20 years old can you imagine LOLOLOL.)

Anyway, I will be back with more updates as these spaces progress, I’m sure!

(Maybe I should turn the back porch into a forest?!)

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Toasty Tempers

Over the weekend Chooch happened to be watching me make toast and legit SCREAMED, “omg ew you put butter and jelly TOGETHER?!” like this was a crime?! And he had never known this was a combination that existed in the world?! So of course we engaged in verbal fisticuffs, as we are wont to argue over EVERYTHING these days (yay pandemic) and then Henry chimed in to defend my toast choices but also to add that he usually skips the butter-lube and goes straight for the jelly, which…OK fine, I guess but why tho.

I actually felt really self-conscious about it this morning (the joys of being a mom to a teenager) and GOOGLED to see if I had once again been led astray by my family during my formative years but NO, THIS IS NORMAL (at least in some countries), of course it is, so thanks for making me doubt my toast dressings, son. Also, it’s cool that it took him 14 years to notice how I eat my toast. I mean, all those breakfasts we had at greasy spoon diners during road trips, and he never once saw me liberally slather up some toast with butter and jelly?

(To whom it may concern: my butter/jelly ratio is definitely 80:20 in favor of vegan butter because it’s so stupidly good.)

This has been Toast Talk with Oh Honestly Erin.

Side note: I posted this on Instagram and it inspired the most interaction my stupid IG feed ever has which is both hilarious and also not surprising at all. Usually I ask a question and it wafts off into the ether with no response but apparently people have opinions on toast!

Oh wait another side note: I had a vivid flashback to my sordid jelly-thieving past, where I would cup as many little jelly packets into my sweaty child palm before leaving Denny’s and shove them in my coat pocket and then naturally forget about them because I wasn’t a fucking box car kid looking to store up some future sustenance when the cans of sardines ran out. Anyway, when I say I forgot about them, I REALLY forgot about them because they loitered so long in my coat that they eventually exploded and formed a giant cross-bred jelly brain in the pocket. I was never able to wear that coat again and IT WAS SO NICE!

Robe Rage

Penelope and I had big words because ever since I put this tiger robe on Trudy, Penelope is acting like she’s a goddamn bull and Trudy’s the matador. She keeps jumping and hanging off the robe (OK, so Trudy isn’t the best matador) and it’s making me lose my mind! I don’t want to have to de-robe Trudy, I just want Penelope to stop! So now I sound like Blake & Haley next door screaming at their devil kids, and the recipient of MY screams is just as unresponsive and RUDE as those kids.

We have never had an issue with either cat fucking with Trudy, not even when she’s fully dressed as a Xmas tree, but this robe is taunting Penelope in a big way.

I moved Trudy to a more compact spot, thinking it would be less tempting to Penelope if Trudy wasn’t taunting her from the middle of the room, but NOPE I still caught her dangling from the robe this morning and I was like YOU ARE LUCKY YOU ARE A CAT AND NOT A CHILD BECAUSE I AM UNABLE TO EVER BE ANGRY AT ANIMALS! UGH!!

The Who?-aneers

OK you guys know that I go out of my way to not know about football but I still at least know some shit, like which players are rapists, some position names, which teams are cheaters, which players made cameos in Back to the Beach…you know, the important shit. Also, I am Team That ‘Take A Knee’ Guy forever.

And yes it’s true that if the Steelers aren’t in the Superbowl, then I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t ever know which teams are playing and the only reason I mention the Steelers isn’t because I’m a fan because they’re the team I hate the most but it’s because I live in Pittsburgh and I would have to move to a bunker and eat Velveeta and canned pears for several months in order to ignore talk about the Steelers going to the Superbowl (I mean there’s a song for that shit and everything).

So, the moral of my story is that when I received a news alert Sunday to tell me who won the Superbowl, I should have recognized the name of the team because I’m not some ignorant stooge. But you guys, I have literally NEVER heard of the Buccaneers. To the point where I actually thought the it was typo, or maybe there is some minor league Superbowl that happens at the same time and this was the baby farm team that won Superbowl Jr?

But Henry confirmed that no, the news alert was right. The Buccaneers are a team and they are from Tampa Bay.

Oh, so maybe they’re a newer team then, like how the Tampa Bay Lightning are still kind of new-ish in the NHL?

“Yeah sure,” Henry said, “if you consider a team that was formed in 1979 ‘new’.”

“TOM BRADY IS ON THAT TEAM??” I cried, reading another news alert. “SINCE WHEN?” because again, I know some shit about football, just apparently expired facts.

“Uh, yeah,” Henry mumbled, clearly more invested in whatever ‘people falling down’ Reddit thread had him drooling mindlessly onto his phone. “Since this season.”

Well no wonder why they won! Isn’t he a cheater?! Cheaters always win. (Not that I would know…)

Anyway, I looked up Buccaneers info for myself though because Henry’s mansplainin’ game usually leaves something to be desired, and they were actually formed in 1976 not 1979!! So I had to tweet a correction before more manlier mansplainers took action against my FOOTBALL IGNORANCE. Then I woke Henry to yell at him for giving me the wrong information and he was like, “I didn’t say 1979, I said 1976” and NO HE DID NOT so then we had an actual argument over what date Henry actually said, thanks Buccaneers?!

Chooch, overhearing this Buccaneer brouhaha, chimed in to say, “I’m actually surprised that the Chiefs lost. They had a much better season.” Noticing my incredulous WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU look, Chooch added, “Oh, I looked it up before I bet.”

Like, le duh.

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Wow hi here I am on another thrilling [insert literally any day] with an update of no value or importance.

Earlier this week, I was reading Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin (review/ thoughts will come later!) and for as short as the book was, two separate coincidences happened. There is another word I’m looking for too for what these things are and I can’t think of it…not idiosyncrasies…it will come to me at 3:00am probably.

Anyway, during one of my reading seshes, I had Depeche Mode playing gently in the background & just as I read the line gripping the steering wheel, not only was the song Behind the Wheel playing, but Dave Gahan was singing the verse “I’d rather not be the one behind the wheel.”

Then I picked the book back up one night right after Chooch & I finished our nightly exercise session with Jillian Michaels, when the character of “Omar” was introduced:

Which is whatever, except that I hadn’t turned off Jillian and it had gone to the next workout. Right as I read the name Omar, Jillian said Omar because she was talking to one of her Body Revolution people named OMAR.

I mean that’s kind of weird right because Omar isn’t like, I dunno, John.

SYNCRONICITY. That is the word I was thinking of: when you hear & read the same word at the same time.

To add to that, this morning I was listening to an audio book while helping Henry package greeting cards and one of the characters was called Gudman AND THAT WAS ALSO THE LAST NAME ON ONE OF THIS MORNING’S ORDERS.

Love that. Adds absolutely no value to my life but it sure is creepy good fun!

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I think by now most people who know even a little bit about me probably have heard me mention Wildwood at least once. Considering I haven’t actually been there since 1991/1992, it’s kind of astounding how much of an impact this damn boardwalk tourist town has had on me! One of these years, I’m going to return and it’s probably going to be a big letdown because nothing is ever as good as it was in our childhood memories.

I found a bunch of vintage snaps of the boardwalk when I was moving all of the photos I saved from my grandparents house into photo boxes and first I was like WILDWOOD IN THE 70S FUCK YEAH! But then I was like, “Wait, my family went to Wildwood before I was born??” so I texted my mom and she was like, “Oh yeah we used to go all the time.”

WHAT THE WHAT HUH HMM? Literally never knew that! I thought it was something special that my mom and grandparents eagerly concocted after I was born, like they did a pre-Google search for “super fun places to take our new granddaughter” and Wildwood popped up as a brochure on a travel agent’s formica desk. But nah, they had just “always” been vacationing there and now newly-born Erin was just a TAG-ALONG.

But whatever. Wildwood was the best part of my summers in the 80s, even if my family had an ENTIRE PAST HISTORY of vacationing there without me.

“We used to take great-grandma,” my mom told me LIKE IT WAS NO BIG DEAL that my great-grandma whom I barely knew (she was from Yugoslavia!!

) walked this very boardwalk!

I don’t know whose pictures these were, or what exact they were taken, but they make me so happy, ugh.

I just noticed that the little girl in the yellow is my aunt Susie!! That means these are maybe even from the 60s!

?

Side note: the Zipper was my favorite carnival ride back when I used to still go to the country fairs before I almost died at that one.

WATCH THE TRAM CAR PLZ.

Fuck. This just makes me want to go and listen Bruce Willis’s version of “Under the Boardwalk,” which I used to listen to all the time on a cassette player on my grandparent’s sun porch while playing with my grandma’s Bingo chips and stampers with my childhood friend Amy and yes, she was real, not imaginary and I just had a STRONG FLASHBACK of reenacting a scene from Another World that involved some character named Chad that I guess I must have been obsessed with??

Well, that’s all I have for you on this very blah February Friday. I have to work late shift today and Henry’s grandkids are being exceptionally loud and cry-y on the other side of the wall and then my own kid is also super annoying and energetic today as well and I am ready to snap the fuck out ok byeeeee.

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In this week’s episode of “Remember When We Used to Leave the House,” I would like to revisit the time we surprised Chooch with a trip to Disney World for his 10th birthday, because I could use all the magic I can get right now, even if it means copying and pasting a blog post about the Magic Kingdom from 2016. I am…well, I’m depressed, you guys. But hey, aren’t we all.

****

The last time I was at Disney World, I was 10 years old and barely remember anything other than being a permed dork who hounded characters for their autographs while my dad spent the entire time singing “Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me” thanks to one spin on Pirates of the Caribbean.

What I learned is that 26 years later, Pirates of the Caribbean is way more awesome than it was in 1990 and dorky kids are still chasing characters for autographs except that now you need to get a fucking Fast Pass for that shit unless you want to spend half your day waiting in inexplicably long queues for some kid in a costume to forge the signature of an animated character.

And my kid was one of those dorks.

He only wanted to meet Chip and Dale though because he saw a picture of me meeting them in 1984 and he is like obsessed with being just like me because I’m fucking fantastic.

The line was really short because who even cares about Chip & Dale anymore I guess now that all these horribly animated, newfangled characters are on the scene, but there were two high school graduates a few people in front of us who totally monopolized C&D’s time and had them signing like 69 different things including their idiotic graduation caps and then had unlimited photos taken and then danced with them and finally C&D’s handler was like “OK the Stars have to take their break now” so the girls got to SKIP OFF INTO THE SUNSET with them while the rest of us normal people in line with their age-appropriate CHILDREN stood there in disbelief and then the grandma in front of us was screaming at her granddaughter who appeared to be 12 or 13 for having teh audacity to WANDER OFF after she was told to SIT ON THE BENCH OVER THERE and the granddaughter was all, “I WAS SITTING ON THE BENCH” and the mom very quietly said, “OK guys, drop it” but grandma just kept railing on granddaughter and then granddaugter was ugly crying.

I wanted to leave but Chooch was like ITS MY DYING WISH and Henry was like STOP RUINING HIS BIRTHDAY so we continued to wait.

When it was the people’s turn in front of us, I was impressed by granddaughter’s ability to turn off the tears in time to jump in with Chip, Dale, her mom and little brother while smiling brightly for the photographer. What a nice big FUCK YOU to grandma. That old hag ain’t gon’ ruin no granddaughter’s day.

Meanwhile, Chooch whined about not having an autograph book so I dug out a receipt for him to have them sign, hahahaha.  #DisneyN00bs

But when it was his turn, their handler was like “the fuck is this?” and gave Chip and Dale two pieces of actual paper to sign for Chooch. It was pretty embarrassing but I was like “The answer is still no” when Chooch asked again for an autograph book.

[Pandemic Erin is here to say that I still have these dumb autographs in my eyeball purse & he has not once asked about about it, shows how much he actually cared about them.]

There was no way we were wasting anymore time standing in line for this shit.

I probably would have made a concession for Pluto though. Does anyone still even care about Pluto? He was always my favorite. The first time I went to Disney, I was 4 and my DAD wouldn’t let me bring my favorite stuffed animal in the entire world with me, so my Pappap was all, “Haha we’ll show him” and proceeded to buy me any Disney plush I wanted  while we were there because he was the best man to ever exist. Anyway, the Pluto one was my favorite.

I started to tell Henry this story and he sighed, “You’ve told me this story so many times” with an eye roll. Rude!!

My Pappap gave me the greatest childhood ever and if I can give Chooch even a tiny glimmer of that, I’ll feel like I made my Pappap proud.

It’s a Small World is one of the few rides there that I have any sliver of memory of. Funnily, I remember more from my first trip there than the last trip when I was 10; this is likely due to the rage black outs since my brother Ryan was around by then and I was still extremely butt-hurt over the fact that I wasn’t an only child anymore.

OH THE PERILS OF BEING ERIN RACHELLE KELLY.

I really felt that this ride held up. It made me giddy.

Even Henry was choking back a smile or two. Hard to imagine, I know.

The ride that didn’t hold up in my mind was Big Thunder Mountain. I was just OK.

All three of us agreed that Space Mountain was the best though! It wasn’t anything like I remembered.

Mid-afternoon, we were strolling about, probably with linked arms because you know how we stroll, when someone started shouting “Riley! Riley!” In case you didn’t know, that’s Chooch’s actual name that he goes by pretty much just in school and nowhere else, lol. Turns out, it was his friend from school! He was there with his grandma, and they had lost his parents, so the grandma asked Henry if he would please call her daughter so they could be reunited.

So Henry did that and I can’t believe that lady even answered because I NEVER ANSWER MY PHONE IF I DON’T RECOGNIZE THE NUMBER and it’s weird to me that people actually will answer EVEN IF IT’S A 1-800 NUMBER!!! Anyway, Henry explained the sitch and said, “You know what’s funny is that my son actually goes to school with your son” and then it turned out that she was standing not too far away from us….

…IN FRONT OF IT’S A SMALL WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She said to Henry, “Wow, it really is a small world after all.”

And that was our super-touching Disney moment.

I think the lowest point of the day was when this family of fuckers blatantly cut in front of us in line for Pirates of the Caribbean and I couldn’t even believe the audacity. Not only did they cut in front of us, but also a lady who was with her HANDICAPPED MOTHER. I was so outraged by this and Henry was like, “Please don’t.” So instead, I just stared at them non-stop and made loud, passive-aggressive statements about people being rude motherfuckers and Henry just sighed deeply as a new wrinkle etched itself under his right eye.

Here’s a picture I took of them afterward in order to SHAME THEM on the Internet. (The guy with the stroller and blue balls balloons was not a part of their rude family so he can remain shame-free in this matter.

Other things to note:

• Haunted Mansion was way better than I ever remembered
  • So was Splash Mountain
    • My favorite part of this ride was when some dickhead served as a placeholder in line and then suddenly, his entire family came barreling through the line to join him, we’re talking a good 12 additional people! I was so livid about this because HELLO THAT IS NOT THE PROPER WAY TO STAND IN LINE, but then as we were nearing the front of the line, it was nearly those assholes’ turn to ride, when one of the Disney broads called out, “Is there a party of two?” and as luck would have it, Henry was too scared to ride this one so YES, MA’AM THERE IS A PARTY OF TWO! Chooch and I got to jump ahead of those pushy assholes. WHO’S LAUGHING NOW!?
      • My least favorite part of this was standing in line sandwiched between two families of tiny Elsas, UGH to the max. I am so glad my child isn’t into that shit.
• Even in April, it looks like every single person in the country has descended upon Lake Buena Vista, but the lines for the actual rides were extremely reasonable, except for:
  • The 7 Dwarfs Mine Ride, which we got tricked into waiting for a good 90 minutes even though the sign said THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES. And friends, it was not worth it.
    • However, what was worth it was that Henry had to ride with some dad, who said something to him immediately after sitting next to him, and that something made Henry laugh very hard, but he very conveniently “couldn’t remember what it was” when Chooch and I interrogated him afterward.
  • Peter Pan’s Flight, which was always over 75 minutes every time I checked, but then we waited until the parade was happening and literally walked right on.
• Decent vegetarian options, especially at Pecos Bill’s Tall Tale Inn — their veggie rice bowl was a motherfucking dream come true for this meatless mouth.
• The stupid Little Mermaid ride made my heart melt a little bit. I forgot how much I used to love that dumb movie. I even bought the soundtrack (ON CASSETTE) from the Scholastic book order in 4th or 5th grade, doesn’t really matter, I was a fucking dork in both grades. Listening to all of the completely off-base names Chooch was coming up when when he was trying to remember “Ursula” may have been my favorite part of the day. One of them had approximately 8 syllables and the only thing he had right was that it started with a U.
  • Pretty sure Henry slept on this ride.
  • There was absolutely no line.
• We almost accidentally got in line for some story time with Belle attraction which turns out is literally having Belle read you a story. Nope.
• I fucking hate strollers. There were soooooo many strollers. EVERY WHERE. STROLLERS HERE AND THERE. Boooooooooo, babies!
• We had a Dole Whip and I guess I don’t really get the mania over those because I know I have soft serve here in Pittsburgh that tastes pretty much exactly the same…what am I missing!? I actually didn’t even finish mine, but gave it to Henry who had given his to Chooch who had spilled him approximately .0005 seconds after Henry handed it to him. The circle of Dole Whip.
• The monorail is decidedly NOT as fun as I remembered it to be.
  • We took it back to the parking lot that night, and it was mayhem. We didn’t get to sit with Henry, and Chooch said, “I feel bad for daddy. He’s sitting next to some Duck Dynasty guy.” I didn’t get to see though because there were people standing in between us. I told Henry about it later and he said, “I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. I was sitting next to a lady.”

When Henry wouldn’t ride the Barnstormer with us. :( ALSO, HE’S TOTALLY LOOKING AT THAT BROAD.

Overall, I’m glad we went when we did because it turned out to be far less stressful and intimidating than I had imagined it to be. No one got lost (although Chooch and I did leave Henry once by the carousel and then “forgot” to come back) and we didn’t even really spend as much money there as I thought we would. I’m trying to remember if we fought at all and I think that we probably did at some point, but clearly it wasn’t major enough for me to immediately blog about right after unfriending Henry on Facebook.

Henry’s thoughts: I liked Space Mountain. I liked the Haunted Mansion. I would say the park was pretty people-friendly, easy to move around.* It was too expensive.

Chooch’s thoughts: It was way more than I expected. I thought it was just going to be like a couple of rides, a couple of food places, and just. But then when I went there, I saw a FANTASY. It was AWESOME. There was so much to do. There was a lot of rides. But Big Thunder Mountain wasn’t as fun as mommy remembered it so that was a big bummer**. That’s it.

 

*DISAGREE. SEE: STROLLERS.

**I must have bitched about this more than I remembered that day.

****

My first day back at work last week, I was telling my co-worker Carrie about Disney and how, while it was a fun experience, Henry and I probably won’t ever go back.

“No, you’ll go again. You’ll have to take your grandkid, Emarosa!”

Touché, Carrie!

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I never would have thought of myself as a “plant person” but I have been mildly successful over the years at keeping (most of) my succulents alive. And then when we bought that large fake plant litter box a few weeks ago, it made me have visions of turning that bottom landing into a plant paradise. But with big plants, not succulents. Henry was like, “Are you sure you’re mature enough to handle this responsibility” like duh, that’s what YouTube tutorials are for, also I’ll be largely co-opting Henry’s green thumb, so hopefully this pans out.

On Saturday, we went out and bought three big beastly beauts:

I know, I know, you’re already like WHERE IS THE SUNLIGHT, THEY NEED SUN but these were taken at night and there is a nearby window in the room they’re in. Also, we’re going to get some grow lights just for extra caution.

When we were walking back to the car after adopting these sexy babes, I cried out that I felt like a real adult.

“Wow, finally,” Henry murmured.

I really like how this area looks at night! This used to be one of the more “blah” areas of the house, with a busted shelf that held all of our card-making supplies.

Now it’s a whole mood, to quote the TikTok gen.

We went back out Monday night and bought two more bigg’uns and some smaller ones. I had REALLY been desiring a monstera plant for a while (because who even am I, anymore) and I was so happy that dumb Lowe’s had one!

Henry keeps insisting on calling it a Monsta X plant, because he’s the corniest Kpop Dad ever, so the next natural step was to obviously name this babe Wonho.

Wonho is definitely my favorite, don’t tell the others.

I asked Drew, our cat, what she wanted to name the others and she said, “Buddy, Buddy, Buddy, and Bud—”

“Drew,” I cut her off. “That’s the name you gave to all the squirrels. The plants need a different name.”

She is so uninspired!

Anyway, we went with Cathy, Peggy, Myrtle and Jesus.

I also got this cute fiddleleaf fig! I hope he grows to be a giant!

I am going to try extra hard to not over-water these suckers. That’s my biggest downfall with succulents. That, and keeping them alive throughout the winter. I move in the ones that I keep on the back porch and some of those motherfuckers still die!!! So I’m hoping that I have better luck with these big house plants. The tags on all of them say that they’re low maintenance but I have been doing some research just to make sure I’m prepared. Like with the whole “Checking of the Roots” which is definitely going to be assigned to Henry.

So yeah, just another way the pandemic has changed me, I guess! Next I’ll be making beeswax candles (I used to really want to make beeswax candles in the likeness of Danny Bonaduce, now that I’m thinking about it, so maybe now’s the time to shine).

Goodbye from Jesus!

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The other night, I was watching the episode of Schitt’s Creek where Stevie has a Sarah McLachlan poster in her apartment and I was reminded of the fact that I have not listened to Sarah McLachlan (accidentally catching a few notes of one of those depressing animal commercials soundtracked by Eyes of an Angel doesn’t count – that song will never be the same again) on purpose since I was probably 19 or 20. I was home alone for a bit on Sunday and decided to remedy that while having COZY BOOK TIME. So I put on Fumbling Towards Ecstasy and immediately felt like some other, long-repressed Erin had resurfaced and suddenly I wanted to put on a flow-y skirt with sandals and tuck a daisy behind my ear.

(Fun fact: I used to wear long skirts all the time, even when just hanging out at home, but then some of the guys I worked with at the meat place made low key rapey comments and would ya look at that, I’ve only worn pants for the last 20 years. Huh.)

My Sarah McLachlan obsession started accidentally when I was in high school, scamming Columbia House and BMG – you remember those ads where you could choose 10 CDs for a penny or whatever? I think eventually they upped it to “for the price of one CD” but I took advantage of this SO MANY TIMES. And if they didn’t have anything I wanted, I would just choose random stuff that looked cool. That’s how I ended up with Fumbling Toward Ecstasy and whatever album she had that came out before that one.

What stands out the most to me is that F.T.E. was that rare album in the 90s where it was 100% listenable the whole way through. Oh man, I can’t tell you how many times I bought a CD back in the day only to realize that the only good song was the radio single. I guess that’s why cassingles were so popular back then! But F.T.E. was like a deep tissue massage for my brain. My bedroom senior year of high school in 1996 was super cozy and vibe-y – I had all kinds of strands of lights, lava lamps, neon, a deep purple carpet and foiled wallpaper. Those TicToc kids don’t have SHIT on my 1990s boudoir! And goddamn, that album got a lot of play time back then. I was super depressed most of the time so this shouldn’t be too shocking.

Anyway, all of that is fine and dandy, but the one thing that pushed its way to the forefront of my mind yesterday while floating down this aural memory lane was that Psycho Mike made fun of me SO HARD for liking Sarah McLachlan. It was “so gay.” I have this strong image of us standing in the basement of my parent’s house, next to a spare dining room table, while he mocked me about it and I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, Erin this is the second time in less than a month that music has made you write about Psycho Mike sounds like SOMEONE is still hung up” and you know what, you’re right! I am not over that toxic relationship. I still have nightmares, for Christ’s sake! He did a real number on me and I probably still require several years of therapy!

But then, and this is the part of my memory that’s hazy, it was either the cheerleader he met at the juvenile psychiatric facility he was sent to in 1997 and temporarily dumped me for, or the girl he starting dated two years later after we had officially broken for good, but one of them also really like Sarah McLachlan so then he suddenly did too. Fuck you, Psycho Mike.

[I also went through a brief Jewel phase back then which I forgot about (purposely blacked out?) until last week when Chooch and I walked to 802 Cafe and “Foolish Games” was playing. Wow, I had a physical response to that one, that’s for sure.]

Later on, I heard the tail end of Duran Duran’s “Come Undone” wafting down the steps from the radio in my bedroom so I was like OH SHIT MY JAM and hurriedly put the video on YouTube while assisting Henry in Valentine Land. As soon as that ended though, I had Sade’s “No Ordinary Love” queued up to play.

“What’s making you listen to Sade?” Henry asked, probably confused by the sudden deluge of music with English lyrics.

“Well, because I just listened to ‘Come Undone’ by Duran Duran and that will always be connected with ‘No Ordinary Love’ in my head because they were both popular around the same time and it reminds me of when my bedroom was arranged in a certain way that I loved.”

Henry gave me that “…ok” smirk so I continued to explain. “Actually I hated it at first because my mom waited until I was on vacation with my grandparents to rearrange it and then I came home from Europe, jet-lagged, to a strange room!” I cried incredulously.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel sorry for you,” Henry sighed.

I need to learn to read the room.

And then I went back to my Sarah McLachlan loop which made Henry ponder about Lilith Fair.

“Didn’t you go to Lilith Fair?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, looking so fucking sure of himself.

“Pretty sure I would remember attending Lilith Fair,” I said in that teenaged tone spiced with the perfect amount of derision and condescension that I reserve just for him.

“Hmm,” Henry sighed, staring into space. “….did I go to Lilith Fair…?”

And then we spent the next 35 minutes trying to remember Ani DiFranco’s name and had a huge fight because I put on “Uninvited” by Alanis Morrisette and HE DIDN’T KNOW WHO IT WAS.

“HOW DO YOU NOT RECOGNIZE HER VOICE,” I screamed, like this was a personal affront, equivalent to not knowing my middle name or Kpop bias.

“WELL IF I DIDN’T KNOW THIS SONG BEFORE, I SURE KNOW IT NOW!” he yelled after the 4th different live version of it played on YouTube.

I really wish I had more pictures of my old bedroom, is my main takeaway of the weekend’s music memories. Oh, and that I need therapy to work through the Psycho Mike stuff. (“I don’t think I’m over the stuff Psycho Mike did to me” I said to Henry and his response was a very dry, “wow, no shit.” LOLZ.)

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Can I do some humble-bragging for a second? December-February is our busiest season at the Greeting Card Factory here in our Brookline shack, and while it can be stressful since Henry and I both have day jobs as well and printing-assembling-packaging orders usually takes us until 11PM every night, getting great reviews makes it all 100x more worthwhile. I LOVE making people happy and we both put a lot of care, effort, and consideration with the shop, from the design of the cards to the quality of the supplies we use all the way down to the carefully packaged final product.

Granted – we’re humans and not perfect, mistakes are made from time to time (the worst being the time Henry mixed up a Kpop card order with a serial killer card and that my friends is how the separate, much less bloody Hello Hanguk Kpop card shop was born as a…subsidiary? of non compos cards lol.

The absolute WORST part of selling online is the shipping process. The USPS makes me so fucking nervous. The amount of times they have lost our cards in the mail is absurd and don’t even get started on international mailing!

But man, when we get good feedback?

It makes me feel like I am BLOOMING. And I always want to rub it in the faces of my friends who are like “lol ok you and your ‘card shop’.”

(My favorite though was 2 years ago when I made a card from our department to give to the director and passed it around for everyone to sign. One of my coworkers came over and asked me where I had it made. “….I made it…” I said, like duh? She gasped and said, “omg you should sell cards on Etsy or something!” And I was like, “…I do?” Lol.)

Anyway, here is some recent feedback I received that just REALLY made me feel so grateful to have such awesome customers!

This Valentine’s season has been our best one yet (almost 300 orders in January alone!) and I just feel so grateful to be able to supply such a niche item to so many cool people, while also helping to keep snail mail alive. Send more correspondence, people!

Everyone deserves a break from bills and circulars!

Anyway, please visit non compos cards where you can find anything from serial killers to cult leaders to Golden Girls to vintage porn stars to The Cure.#

And Hello Hanguk for your Kpop needs!

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I’m really struggling here. I love writing in this space so much but it’s hard when there is nothing to say because there is nothing to do. (Side note: not whining, happy to stay home and do my part in not spreading Covid, but you know what I mean!)

So for today I thought it would fun(-ish?) to do a picture or three every hour throughout the day. I mean, I’ll mostly be chained to my desk working, but maybe it will give me inspiration to look out the back porch windows or something. Maybe HNC will be doing something exciting in the backyard. You never know!

So to start, here are some pre-8AM photos of my breakfast adventures. I used to just be a bowl of cereal type of bitch, but since the kitchen isn’t a junkyard anymore, I sort of cook now! (I mean, barely.)

My breakfast is always a mix of vegan/vegetarian stuffs. Almost always some type of egg beaters, vegan cheese, vegan deli meats, sometimes spinach but I couldn’t find it today (Henry?????), and toast. Note: the I Can’t Believe It’s Butter brand of vegan butter is SO FUCKING FOOD.

My ritual is telling Echo to play some type of 80s new wave mix or the Genesis “Invisible Touch” album while I’m breakfasting and cleaning up. It’s my go-to comfort album!

Now that Henry has a place to put all of our card-making supplies, I have a dining room table to eat at again!

8:00AM hour:

Time to feed the squirrels!

HNC was leaving for work when I was laying out the peanuts on the windowsill, so much for catching him doing interesting things outside today lol.

I like to have at least 1000 steps before I sit down to work at 9 so I usually spend my 8 o’clock hour either doing walking workouts or jogging in place while watching booktube or Kpop videos. My life is rich! Today I’m watching some “upcoming 2021 thrillers” round ups.

Mr. Grey Guy is the bistro’s first patron this morning!

Obligatory Chooch Check-In before I log on to work. He’s playing Minecraft in between classes. How thrilling. Also that lighter on his desk isn’t for his smoking habit, but his candle addiction.

9:00AM hour:

Time to chug water and work all day! Actually, I just sip water when I drink from a glass in lieu of my jug.

10:00am hour:

I was about to say I haven’t cried yet but that’s not true because there was a segment on the news interviewing young widows who lost their husbands to Covid and I immediately called Henry and begged him not to die. I hate that he still has to go to work but at least he’s largely working alone at his job. Sigh.

Speaking of Covid, we always get Chooch some type of Frozen or Disney Princess shit for Xmas to piss him off. This past Xmas he got Frozen hand sanitizer in his stocking:

11:00AM hour:

Chooch made cookies last night & I’m trying not to eat them all so I’m making coffee instead god help me.

Action shot of Chooch eating a cookie while making lunch in my 2005 Coachella hoodie which he has co-opted into his wardrobe.

NOON HOUR:

Chooch was added to some spam/scam group message and just CANT HELP HIMSELF. Some guy included in this group actually called Chooch yesterday and threatened to turn him in lol good job Chooch.

They both lay under the church pew all day because the heat vent is there lol.

Also I had soup for lunch and it was ugly so I didn’t take a picture.

1:00PM HOUR:

I HAVE WAITED FIVE YEARS FOR THIS. BOUGHT IT. SO STOKED.

Drew approves.

2:00PM HOUR:

I bought chooch this Keith Haring Swatch for getting good grades bc he loves Keith Haring.

C: Why do you want this picture

M: because I’m posting a picture every hour on my blog.

C: wow. That’s really interesting. I’m glad I asked.

3:00PM HOUR:

OMG GET DOWN.

4:00PM HOUR:

Hello? IT’S FOR YOU.

5:00PM HOUR:

It’s Valentine Time! Well I technically have 30 minutes left at my day job then I can help. Henry is on his own for now lol (which he’s used to!).

Vegan egg salad & sides from Zenith! Picnic vibes.

6:00PM HOUR:

Needed steps so I walked to the teen center to meet Chooch (he goes twice a week – they have tight Covid regulations and every one wears a mask) and that was dumb because now I can’t feel my hands.

7:00PM HOUR:

Getting in some pages before it’s time to exercise!

8:00PM HOUR:

Starting phase 2 of Body Revolution! Love Jillian so much.

9:00PM HOUR:

Back at it!

10:00PM HOUR:

Time to start winding down, according to my FitBit!

Korean practice time!

Chooch is going through a box of Henry’s grandma’s recipe collection, some of which are cut out of magazines so that’s fun.

Well I have to rejoin the Valentine assembly line so peace out. This was…mildly fun. Well, not fun, but…

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