Only In Maine...

When you grow up in Maine, it is common that you trek out back in the woods to cut down your Christmas tree every winter. The Demchak's were no exception and ever since I can remember, that is how we did it. And even after the kids moved out of the house, that is still how my parents, John and Rhoda do it. Last weekend, the two of them bundled up in their L.L. Bean gear, hopped in the truck and drove out back in the woods to cut down the Christmas tree. Once they found a good spot, my parents jumped out of the truck, (my dad holding the chainsaw and my mom peeing her pants laughing) and made their way through the woods to find that special tree. My dad was leading the way, chopping through the tree limbs that were in their way with the chainsaw, trying to get to that perfect tree.

Once my dad would see that glimmering pine tree destined for the living room, he would cut down the 75 footer, watch it fall, then cut off the top that would fit in the house. After a few pines went timber and my parents shunned the so called 'Charlie Brown' trees, they found the perfect one that would be ideal for the Demchak house. My mom, still peeing her pants, watched as my dad strapped the trees to the back of the truck with chains. The two found the perfect tree and not to be wasteful, a few others to use in the dining room and maybe even to make a wreath. Only in Maine....

A Sticky Situation

Two months ago, I had my friend Nicole put long, blonde extensions in my hair. I thought I would try something new because I know that my hair does not grow past my shoulders. I would never be able to have long, thick blonde hair without the help of false hair. I absolutely loved the extensions until I naturally got sick of them and they started to come out a little on the side of my head. Instead of acting like a normal person and waiting for Nicole to take them out of my hair properly, I decided to rip them out myself. After the first two I realized my mistake and when Anthony came into the bathroom and told me to wait for Nicole, I simply told him, "I'm in too deep babe!"

After almost an hour later and a bathtub drain full of real hair, I had them all out. While I slathered the leave-in conditioner in my hair and covered it with my shower cap, I thought, wow- that actually was easy! Who cares if I only have a few strands of hair left, all the extensions are out! I was feeling good until I rinsed the conditioner out and realized that even though the actual extensions were gone, the glue that held them in still remained in globs in my matted hair. Panicked, I asked Nicole what I should do and after she scolded me, she said that I needed a hair extension glue remover from Sally's Beauty Supply (which of course was already closed). I decided to Google at-home remedies to removing hair extension glue and at this moment I am sitting on the couch with my head drenched in olive oil thinking about how I would look with a short bob. Oops!

Viva Las Vegas

For anyone who has ever sang karaoke unwillingly and actually got nervous, I will let you in on a secret...alcohol calms it all. Last weekend I went to Las Vegas with Anthony and his family and after a night of drinking, we found ourselves at Yolo's, a Mexican restaurant/karaoke bar inside of Planet Hollywood. Anthony's sister Sarah urged her friend Christina and I to sing and after an unsuccessful attempt at finding a song in the giant song binder that lists every song in the history of songs (who has time for that?) we decided on a little diddy that I already knew by heart. One of my hidden talents (that's the only one I can think of right now besides opening a champagne bottle with a knife) is being able to belt out all of the words to Salt N' Pepa's "Shoop"on cue. I figured that would be the perfect song to get the crowd going in Vegas, right? Although Christina said she wasn't familiar with the lyrics, I told her not to worry and that all we needed was some liquid courage and the support of Sarah, her husband Paul, Anthony and his mom. Besides, I could hold down the fort and she would just need to chime in on the chorus. Piece of cake!

When the announcer called our names, I finished my drink and walked confidently up to the microphone. I was a little nervous when I noticed that there were a group of black ladies in the front row and hoped that they wouldn't heckle us for rapping and boo us off the stage. When the music started, we began to sing and surprisingly, the black ladies in the front were actually cheering us on, dancing and taking pictures of us rapping. Everything was going great until Paul got up front to cheer us on and stood directly in front of the monitor that displayed the lyrics. We fumbled a bit, started awkwardly dancing and improvising, then got our shit together and recovered. 

What we didn't realize about the song though was there was way more chorus than actual lyrics which led to about 10 minutes straight of us repeating "Shoop, shoop-a-doop, shoop-a-doop, shoop-a-doop-a-doop-a-doop." Oh well, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? 

We're Good! (Not That Good)

Last weekend, Anthony and I went to Austin, Texas for the Fun Fun Fun Festival. Of course they were selling alcohol inside the festival but they jacked up the price and gave you half the amount, so I had my own solution. Just as I usually do at most music festivals, I would smuggle in a flask. We went to the liquor store and bought the only flask they had. It was large and plastic and cheap- it would do. I knew they checked my bag at the gate the day before (not thoroughly) but I figured I didn't want to take any chances and throw it in my purse. So I wore a shorts under my dress and put the flask full of vodka in my shorts.

When we got to the festival, I confidently walked up to the gate knowing that I had nothing to hide. Of course I got a freaking TSA agent to check my bag and he went through every nook and cranny of that thing. He picked up my sunglasses case which contained my necklace, shook it and gave me an 'I caught you' look. To his surprise, he only found the necklace and then moved on to my makeup bag which I willingly opened for him proving I was not smuggling anything. He then felt the side pocket of my purse where I had my cell phone and cleverly said "Miss, you're going to have to empty out that flask!" I pulled out the cell phone proving him wrong and took my bag back. Smugly I asked him if they had confiscated a lot tonight and he pointed to the nearby trashcan, overflowing with flasks and water bottles. He replied, "nope, but if you take a look over there, you can tell we're good!" As I walked away I whispered under my breath, "not that good!"

Just Call Me Snooki

My first experience with an airbrush spray tan was two years ago when I purchased a Groupon for a tanning package at a salon near my work in Westwood. After my first appointment, I didn’t really think anything was particularly odd until I spoke with my friends who are also fans of the spray tan. The salon that I went to for my first airbrush tan went out of business about a month after I used up my tanning package which is a perfect preface to my story…

 

I showed up on time for my tan, showered and exfoliated and wearing the recommended loose black clothes and flip flops. I may have been an airbrush tan virgin but I was ready to get it over with and excited for the outcome. It seemed as though I waited for almost half an hour (thank God I brought a book) but just figured they were busy back there. When the lady came out to let me know that it was my turn, I got up and followed her to the back room. She was about fifty years old but wanted to be twenty and by the looks of her plastic surgery, teenage clothes and bleach blonde hair, she was giving it her best effort. She told me to take off all of my clothes except for the disposable thong underwear she gave me and paper flip flops that stick to the bottom of your feet. She left the room to fill up the airbrush gun thingy and when she came back I was naked and freezing in front of a stranger.

 

As she began to apply the first layer, she also began to tell me her life story. And then she kept talking and spraying and layering and talking. At one point she left to smoke a cigarette while I was ‘drying.’ She came back and assisted me with the drying portion of the tan with the hose from the airbrush machine thingy. After she helped me dry the tan, I swear to God she took her lunch break and told me to wait and she would be back to apply the last layer. I honestly didn’t know that there was anything wrong with this thinking, she knows what she is doing and her skin looks nice and tan (she actually looked like Magda from There’s Something About Mary now that I think about it). When she came back, she applied the very final coat of bronze-ness, then I had to dry off again for about ten minutes. Once she was finished, I looked in the mirror and didn’t see myself but an African American lady staring back at me. Well, I wasn’t that dark but I was definitely a dead ringer for a cast member on The Jersey Shore. When I walked outside it was dark (my appointment was at 4:30pm) and I felt like I had been there for an hour. I looked down at my watch and realized that I was there for an hour and a half. I did end up finishing the last few tans on the Groupon package but I made sure I didn’t let ‘Magda’ spray me and told the girl that I only wanted one layer.

 

RYAN!!!

Many of you may not know that Ryan Gosling has a band named Dead Man's Bones. Well, I wasn't aware of it either until Grace and I read that they were playing at an underground club in Cambridge, MA a few years back. WHAT!!?? We had to be there! Not only to check out the band but to check out Mr. Gosling himself. We got to the club early that night and were willing to wait in line as long as it took to get to the front of the stage because it was general admission. Surprisingly, a lot of people had no idea that he was even performing and when we got to the venue, we had no problem getting in and marking our spots near the stage. We were like little kids in a candy store waiting for Dead Man's Bones to come out and when Ryan hit the stage, we both went weak in the knees. The band was actually amazing and of course Ryan was a dream boat.

After the show, we were determined to talk to him and hopefully get a picture, so along with all the other girls there we lingered/stalked in the bar area. I of course was convinced that he would lay eyes on me and fall madly in love and the rest would be history. As Grace and I were just about ready to give up on our hunt for the Gosling, I spotted a familiar bright blue sweater walk through the kitchen and into the bar. With no shame and as if he was an old friend, I screamed, "Ryan!" and he turned to us and walked over. With my heart beating out of my chest and my little sister standing there speechless, I asked him if we could get a picture and he obliged. But being Erin, I then proceeded to ask him if I could buy him a drink to which he said that he couldn't stay because he had a plane to catch. There goes my love match! And as fast as he entered into our lives, he was gone. Oh well, at least we got that photo...the prize photo that Grace and I both cut each other out of and made our Facebook profile pictures of course!

Disco Sticks And Peacock Feathers

I am extremely creative when it comes to my Halloween costumes- the Honey Badger who didn’t give a s*&t, ‘The Walk of Shame,’ Harry Dunn (stay tuned, it’s this years costume) and a Peacock back in 2009 when I was living in Boston. My plan for the night was to go out with my friend Callie (who decided to wear roller skates the ENTIRE night including when we walked/rolled her down the cobblestones in the North End) and my little sister Grace aka Lady Gaga. Grace is also very creative and sewed her red costume together to match her blonde wig and homemade disco stick. What the hell is a disco stick you might ask? In Grace’s case it was a silver wrapping paper roll decorated with silver glitter. “I want to take a ride on your disco stick!”

I also made my costume from scratch with a bright green tutu and a ridiculous amount of peacock feathers. After hours of prepping for the night, we were all dressed up and ready to go to the Liberty Hotel for some pickle martinis. Well, we made it there okay at around 9:00 pm but all the rest of the details from that night are a bit fuzzy. Grace is convinced it is because she wore her sunglasses all night and couldn’t really see anything at all but I think it was one too many martinis.

After we left the Liberty Hotel, we apparently jumped in a cab and went to McFadden’s and who knows where my friend Callie went. I apparently left my peacock tail in the cab and Grace lost her disco stick who knows where but we made it inside nonetheless. As I was downstairs probably chatting with some other birds, Grace vaguely remembers falling face first down the stairs in her Gaga outfit, unable to see where she was going due to the martinis, err…dark glasses. From that point, we somehow walked to the T station (after a trip to Shaws to buy some chips and salsa that I apparently dropped on Grace’s foot which sparked a drunken fight) and made it back to her apartment in the North End. What time were we in bed that night? 11:00 pm, yup- 11:00 pm. The next morning I woke up on the couch (Grace never let me sleep in her bed) with my false birdlike lashes still on and Grace woke up with a huge swollen ankle from the dropped salsa jar on her foot that we don’t really remember. Who knows what happened that night but it was a blast! (Sorry Mom!) And if anyone has a video of Lady Gaga falling down the stairs face first at McFadden’s from Halloween 2009, please tag Grace in it on You Tube.

Somebody Call 9-1-1!

When I lived in El Segundo with Alicia back in 2004, we shared a room and each had a twin sized bed. Yup, the real life Burt and Ernie! One weekend, Alicia’s friend Ed came to visit. Well, he wasn’t so much her friend as her ex-boyfriend who wanted her back and Alicia wanted nothing to do with him. So, he was a tad unhappy and seemed to be taking it out by drinking a lot. One night, Alicia, Ed and our friend Jeri went out to a bar in Westwood while I stayed home with Alicia’s English Mastiff, Sampson. They were out pretty late, so I decided not to wait up for them and took Sampson into the bedroom to call it a night…in my twin size bed.

The sound of our front gate buzzer and Sampson barking like crazy awoke me about an hour after I went to bed. I wasn’t sure why Alicia would be buzzing to get in since she had keys, so I was a little confused. Naturally, I always get scared when someone rings the doorbell or knocks on the door especially when it’s the middle of the night. I reached for my cell phone and called Alicia and she said they were still at the bar. Even more confused, I tried to convince myself that the person outside just had the wrong apartment buzzer. I tried to get Sampson to stop barking but the buzzing would not stop. In order to open the gate out front, I had to go into the living room, pick up the phone and punch in the code. I hesitated but decided to go into the living room and pick up the phone. Quietly, I listened, not wanting to say anything to this stranger and figured if it were someone I knew, they would have called my cell phone first. I didn’t hear anyone so figured maybe the person left. But Sampson didn’t think so and kept barking like crazy. Just as I was about to go back to bed, there was a loud knock at my door. I jumped and ran back into my bedroom as Sampson was now officially going nuts. I was terrified and thought that I was going to die. Who the hell was knocking at my front door at one in the morning if Alicia, Ed and Jeri were still at the bar? I called Alicia again but she didn’t pick up. I immediately started to cry when I realized that the person on the other side of the door was now trying to get in through the window. Terrified, I called 911 and told the operator that someone was trying to break into my apartment. It all seemed like a dream and all I could hear was the banging of some stranger trying to get in my apartment, Sampson howling and the 9-1-1 operator telling me that the cops were now at the gate and I had to let them in. I went out into the living room, opened the gate and heard the officers running up to my door and yelling for the trespasser to put his hands up. Just as a wave of absolute relief rushed over me, the 9-1-1 operator told me to open the door because the officers were there with the guy and he said he knew me. Huh?

So confused, I opened the door to find Ed in handcuffs between two police officers. I rolled my eyes and told them I knew who it was and he was actually staying with me. They asked him why he was trying to break in and he was so drunk that he literally just fell onto the floor and passed out once they un-cuffed him. I thanked the officers, yelled at Ed (who probably didn’t hear a word I said) and went to bed relieved that I wasn’t dead. Apparently, he was mad that Alicia didn’t want to take him back and took a cab from the bar back to the apartment without letting Alicia and Jeri know. He was so drunk that he actually climbed over the front gate and tried to get into the apartment. My one question-why not just call me, Ed? What an idiot!

A Day In Erin’s Shoes…Literally

You know when you just have a weird day and everything seems to stand out as odd? I recently had one of those days. I was on my lunch break, walking to Trader Joe’s when I saw a gentleman getting arrested outside of Peet’s Coffee. He was handcuffed and being helped into the back of the squad car. It is a little upsetting to see anyone getting arrested and it left me with a weird feeling in my stomach but I got an even weirder feeling when I got to Trader Joe’s about fifteen minutes later. I went to grab a salad out of the refrigerated section and when I turned around, who was selecting a ‘Very Green Juice’ out of the cooler next to mine? The guy who I just saw being arrested. And I can confirm that it wasn’t his twin because I distinctly remember his blue and pink Nike sneakers. Wait a minute!!!???

Then I got in line to buy my salad, still scratching my head when the girl behind me asked if she got cut me in line because she was in a hurry. Sure, not a problem! She then introduced herself as Danger from Maine and told me a joke. “Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella? Fo Drizzle!” Who the hell was this chick?

Usually when I get home from work, I workout and then eat dinner, but since I had missed Breaking Bad that week, I thought I would watch it before I worked out. Anthony was working late so I had the place to my self. When I walked in the door, I noticed a few large boxes leaning up against the counter with a note that said “I hope you like your new bike!” Aww, what a great boyfriend I had! 

Out of love and before I crashed on the couch to watch Breaking Bad, I thought I would finish up a few loads of his laundry, it’s the least I could do. When I opened the dryer and pulled out the dry clothes, I noticed that one of Anthony’s t-shirts was split in half and ripped to shreds. Oh SHIT!!!

 I began to freak out, contemplated searching online to find the exact shirt for him so I could hide it and then decided to text him and let him know what I had done. I was hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. While I was waiting for his response text, I changed into my workout clothes but when I reached down to put on my sneakers, I noticed something in my shoe. There was a small knife sticking out of it. What the hell? 

I immediately thought that somehow Anthony was watching me and was sending me a message about ruining his clothes, then my mind went to the episode of Breaking Bad that was paused on my TV and my heart skipped a beat thinking that Walter White was out to get me. No, that couldn’t be right.  Just as the beads of sweat started to drip down my forehead, I got a text back from Anthony, “Hey babe, no you didn’t ruin the shirt, I ripped it in half and forgot to take it out of the laundry. Did you happen to find the little kitchen knife? I lost it when I was opening the bike box.” PHEW! 

Lately I have been leaving him these little notes around the house that say, “I love you because________.” The one I left for him (in his shoe) tonight said, “I love you because you hide knives in my shoes.”

Dumps Like A Truck

Many of you may be wondering where I got the nickname 'Dumps' and many of you probably had no idea that my nickname was 'Dumps.' No, it doesn't have to do with my love of dump trucks, the size of my booty or my frequent trips to the bathroom...I am going to expose the meaning behind that for you right now. And yes, you are welcome- now you can sleep tonight! : )
When I was in high school I worked at Abercrombie and Fitch in Freeport, Maine with my best friend Alicia. As an employee behind the register, I had to scan the articles of clothing by the barcode located on the tag. If a certain item didn't have a barcode however, we had to use a dummy code called a 'dumpskew.' For some reason my manager thought my last name was Dumpskew instead of Demchak, so he started to call me 'Dumps' for short. Alicia of course thought this was hysterical and she started calling me 'Dumps' all the time. The only time she ever calls me Erin, til this day even, is when she is mad at me. And naturally my little sister (whom lived with Alicia and I in Boston) became 'Lil Dumps' and my parents became 'Momma Dumps' and "Poppa Dumps.' The best part? Alicia's son Victor just started to talk and now calls me 'Humpty Dumpty.'

Jonny Is Driving!

This video describes itself....

I Blame Nas

When I was a junior in college, I interned at MTV in New York City, which was one of the best experiences of my life. I took the train from Bridgeport, CT into Times Square three times a week to either assist the talent coordinator all day (he was on location about every week so I mainly sat at his desk and ate Willy Wonka candy) or help out on Total Request Live. When I was helping out on TRL, I would either prepare the cue cards for Carson Daly (who was a tad egotistical and snobby back then) or get the green room ready for the pop stars who would be coming in that day. One afternoon I was prepping the green room for the rapper Nas who wanted a specific grilled chicken salad from a specific deli down the street. So who was going to run and get it for him? Erin the intern, that's who. I hopped in a cab, picked up the salad and made it back to the studio in time to get it into the green room for Nas to eat for lunch. Usually after the show, we would clean up the green room and take any snacks that were uneaten- we were poor college students who were interning for free!

I noticed that Nas didn't touch his grilled chicken salad that I ran out of my way to get for him....the nerve! I checked with my supervisor and he said I could eat it, so I scarfed down Nas' salad and was a happy little intern. Until I got on the train home that is and my stomach started making weird noises. You know that feeling...the uncontrollable cramping in your stomach, the sweat beads rolling down your forehead. The 'why does this always happen when I am not at home' feeling? Luckily I made it home in time to get to the bathroom but I have never listened to a Nas song in the same light. I swear he gave me food poisoning...

DO NOT TOUCH MY KEN DOLL!

When I was little I wanted to do everything like my big sister, Amber. She had the best clothes, toys, games and friends and I could only hope to be like her one day (not much has changed). But when she was older, she always wanted to go hang out with her friends instead of stay home with her two little sisters and play. I was left to play with my little sister, Grace (not a bad thing), who was five years younger than me but also shared an intense passion for Barbies. One Christmas, Amber got the new Barbie and the Rockers Ken doll, equipped with a long, shiny, silver trench coat and a brush to combs his wavy, blonde locks. Grace and I couldn't wait to get our grubby little kid hands all over him but Amber gave us strict instructions NOT to touch her Ken doll. She even acted like a teacher back then, I think she sat us down, shook her finger at us while laying out her rules. This made the situation more appealing for Grace and I. We wanted to reunite Ken with his buddies- Derek, Barbie, Dee Dee and Diva, whom belonged to Grace and I. Isn't it just obvious that The Rockers needed Ken to complete their band? Grace and I thought so.

So one day, shortly after Amber threatened us with our lives not to touch her coveted Ken doll, she left for the day to go hang out with her friends. I don't think my mom's car had even left the driveway before Grace and I went sprinting up the stairs into Amber's room to grab Ken so we could get the band back together. We still aren't sure why we chose to do what we did that day but at the time it felt right to bring him outside first, alone. Maybe we wanted to ease him into meeting the rest of the Rockers first- he could have been nervous. What if he and Derek didn't get along? I also don't remember exactly who carried out the events that were about to unfold (it was probably me) but clearly I am still scarred. Grace and I (laughing the entire time) took Ken outside to play and the next thing I know, he was flying through the air, towards the well. Crash! Shocked, we ran to his side to assess the situation. It was a grim site next to that well. Even though he was still smiling and his flashy coat was still gleaming, his leg had popped off. NOOOOOO! From that day forward, he was known as Handicap Ken and we made him a wheelchair out of a pink Barbie beach chair. What happened when Amber found out, you ask? I have blocked it out of my memory, but I think she is still mad...

Salad With A Side Of Shampoo?

A few weeks ago my friend Nicole, who is also my hair stylist, gave me a dollop of shampoo to brighten up my blonde locks because she noticed that the color was fading a bit. I was at her house when she extracted my sample from her personal shampoo collection, so all she had for a container was a tiny Tupperware. You  know which kind I am talking about, the small, round fella that you would normally put salad dressing in. After I used up the shampoo, I washed the Tupperware and put it in my cabinet at home and forgot about it until today. I wanted to take a salad to work for lunch, so I prepped the lettuce and other veggies in a big Tupperware, and put my salsa (my type of salad dressing) in the littlest Tupperware I had in my cabinet....I'm sure you can see where this story is going. I took a big bite of my salad at lunch this afternoon and it was like I had squirted the shampoo directly into my mouth. Apparently 'that taste' doesn't come out of Tupperware, (or my mouth for at least a few hours for that matter).

Sharknado!

If you haven't heard of Sharknado yet, Google it, please! It is a horribly horrible 'made for TV' movie that ended up getting more press than it should have (actually it only got press because it was so ridiculous). There were a few midnight screenings over the weekend in select cities for its "followers" so my friends asked me if I wanted to go with them Friday at LA Live. I thought, why not? I did my due diligence on the film and laughed the entire time- sharks flying out of tornadoes? What the hell? Due to its ridiculousness, I felt that I needed a few drinks to help me through the movie, so we pre-gamed at my apartment before heading over to the theater.

Once we arrived, it was total madness! The 'stars' Tara Reid, Ian Ziering and Kevin McCallister's dad from Home Alone were all there posing for the paparazzi and even doing press. I have to admit I was a little bummed that I didn't know about it sooner, or I would have been on that red carpet with my Starpulse microphone asking them how the hell this movie happened! We got our tickets and headed into the theater to discover that the entire back section was reserved for everyone who was involved in the making, distributing and even catering of this movie...and their mothers. There was no way we were going to sit in the front, so we sat in the handicap row and promised the ushers that we would move if anyone who actually needed the seats came in. Well, no one did and because the handicap seats were right in the middle of the theater with plenty of leg room, the 'stars' of the film ended up sitting there too. So here we are, sitting in the same row as Tara Reid, Ian Ziering and Kevin McCallister's dad from Home Alone, ready to see Sharknado. There was even a guy there wearing a shark suit!

The lights dimmed, the crowd cheered, I saw the intro and the next thing I remember were the credits. I slept through the entire film...sitting in the same row as Tara Reid, Ian Ziering and Kevin McCallister's dad from Home Alone. It was probably due to the fact that I had three vodka and grapefruit drinks prior to going out. Apparently every time the crowd burst into laughter, I would turn to my Nabeela and tell her how funny that part was but in reality I didn't see it, I was just trying to act like I did. Never take me to a midnight movie.

And She Says Dance Like No One Is Looking....

I have a love/hate relationship with trainer Tracy Anderson.....see below:

And still going (sorry about the sirens)....

No Dumping!

After I graduated college, my friends and I decided to move to Los Angeles, so we rented an RV to make the trek from Maine to California. We even met with producers at MTV and pitched a reality show but unfortunately (or not?) it was 2003, when the idea of a reality show was still very new to the entertainment world. Nowadays there are reality shows about everything from crab fisherman to chunky beauty queens from the south. There were five of us girls and Sampson, the English Mastiff, (RIP Samps) who piled into that RV on the cold and snowy day back in January, 2004. None of us had ever driven a vehicle that large and it made things even harder because my Jetta was being towed behind the RV, so there was no way we were ever going to attempt to back that thing up. It was straight ahead all the way to LA!

There were some crazy adventures along our journey, which would have made for an amazing television show, and we finally arrived in LA after we took a few weeks to tour the US. But before we could drop off the camper at the rental place we had arranged for, we had to empty out the sewage tank, which we completely forgot to do at the last campground we stayed at. What the hell were we going to do now? If we returned the camper with the tank full, there would be a huge charge. After we all put our heads together, we decided to do something that we definitely should not have but it was a temporary fix.
Have you ever seen those signs on the side of the road that say, 'no dumping?' I always assumed it meant 'don't poop on this street' which I thought was strange because technically you can't really poop on any street but now I know what those signs really mean and we definitely broke the rules that day. We pulled onto an abandoned street near the highway not far from the RV rental spot in Santa Ana and while Sampson stayed in the camper, we all took our places to execute the plan. One girl was the getaway driver, one girl was the co-getaway driver, two girls were on lookout duty and the last and very unfortunate girl was the one who had to pull off the sewage release cap. As the lookouts gave the signal, the plan was in full attack mode and although it happened so fast, I can still remember the sound of the rushing 'water' dumping all over the street, the squealing of the wheels as the camper hauled ass away from the scene of the crime and the immense laughter coming from all of us, except the girl who had to pull off the cap and was now running to keep up with the camper, avoid the 'mess' and jump in before we drove away with out her. I won't name any names....

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Our apartment has a lot of windows. Windows we keep open a lot. Windows that can be seen by the parking structure across the street. I am aware of this fact but sometimes I forget. And last night was one of those 'sometimes I forget' situations. After my shower, I applied some sunless tanning spray to my pale ass skin. The product states that you must let it dry for at least 5 minutes before getting dressed. Not a problem for me- hell, I will let it dry for ten minutes!

I walked out of the bathroom, butt ass naked, letting my newly bronzed skin dry and started talking to Anthony, who was on the couch. I happened to glance out the window (our blinds were open, of course) and literally made eye contact with an old man who was sitting in the parking garage across the street smoking a cigarette. Without saying a word, I turned my head away from him and retraced my steps backwards into the bathroom, shut the door and busted out laughing. I'm pretty sure I made that guy's night. I know I made Anthony's night because he didn't stop laughing for about ten minutes.

Stand By Me 2: Starring Erin and Rhoda Demchak

When I would come home from college for the summer about ten plus years ago, my mom and I used to love to take walks together after supper. We would talk non-stop about everything while burning off those calories power walking- it was great! We would usually walk near our house in Durham or drive to Lisbon to walk on the bike path until they opened the bike path in Brunswick. How excited were we! On our first  trip to the bike path, we parked off a deserted road in Topsham (as we were instructed by the writeup in the paper) and walked to the entrance. Because it just opened, we weren't exactly sure where to go from where we parked the car to join the bike path, so we asked a random stranger who was getting into her car for directions. She told us to walk up a bit and when we saw a bridge, walk across it until we saw the signs for the path. Easy enough, we thought, as we made our way to the down the street. Except the bridge that we saw was not the bridge that we were instructed to take.

As we looked out into the distance, we saw a huge bridge over the Androscoggin River (that picture doesn't lie) that resembled the railroad tracks on Stand By Me. We looked at each other, looked at the sign that said 'No Trespassing,' looked at each other again puzzled and proceeded to walk across the bridge. I was terrified because we had to step carefully over these rickety pieces of wood with nothing to hold onto as the river rushed beneath us. I tried to hold it together though so my mom wouldn't get scared and thought, if everyone else who went to this bike path took this route, it must be okay. When we got to the other side (what seemed like an hour later) we saw the bike path below us and climbed down a steep hill to join it. A few people who were already on the path looked at us strangely but I thought nothing of it. I am not sure how or when we found out that we literally trespassed and definitely took the wrong bridge (the bridge that lady meant was the overpass equipped with a sidewalk) but I think my mom peed her pants laughing. What the hell were we thinking? And why did we think it was normal to walk across the railroad tracks?

To this day, I have no idea how we made this mistake and I have been to the Brunswick bike path a million times since that day and die laughing every time. I blame my mom...Who Else But Rhoda?

Things I Will Never Understand

Why do all Volkswagens smell like crayons? At first I thought it was just my car- maybe my air conditioner had a crayon like smell to it? Nope. The second Volkswagen I got also smelled like crayons…and every other one I have ever met since.

Why when bus drivers and/or motorcyclists see each other on the road they have to wave at each other? I almost feel inclined to wave to other white VW Jetta’s and I once waved at a girl who was wearing the same jacket as me.

Why do I always get scared when someone knocks on my door? Literally, every time. It could be the mailman or UPS driver and I freak out and never answer it. If you are my friend, don’t come by to surprise me. I won’t answer the door.

When did short ‘mom jean’ shorts become so popular? Maybe it is just California but if I see one more girl walking around with the high waisted, camel toe showing ‘mom jean’ shorts on I will scream. And why is it necessary to have your butt cheeks hanging out? I don’t need to see that. Thanks!

How do cruise ships float? Honestly, I don’t think I will ever understand the concept of cruise ships. You are telling me that those boats that carry hundreds of people, restaurants, clubs, rock climbing walls and roller coasters will float in the middle of the ocean? Blows my mind. I can’t even float.

How do fax machines work? Call me old fashioned but I still use a fax machine at work and every time I send something I question how it is going to get to the receiver on the other end of the number I just punched in. I don’t understand.

Why can’t I fall asleep at night before quadruple checking that my alarm clock is set? My alarm clock goes off as scheduled every morning yet I am terrified every night before I doze off that it won’t go off. I literally lie down then get up at least ten times to check that it is set. Do I have OCD?

Why do I get flat tires so much? Most people who I have met in my life have had maybe one or two flat tires in their life. I have had at least four on my current car that I have only owned for about three years. I have had two within weeks of each other and just got one last week while driving home from work. I don’t think my car likes me. (The feeling is mutual).

Why is Kim Kardashian famous?