the post where i'm super angry but also happy somehow

it's not a secret that i hate most things. like, i'm pretty sure i have enough rage inside of me to power a small city for several days. that's just the way it is friends, don't even think about telling me that i "should really be more positive" because i'll cut you...

ANYWHO, sometimes being constantly on the verge of volcanic eruption can be exhausting, so i really look forward to a precious few things in life that soothe my begrumpled soul.

pumpkins are something that make me not want to stab people in the face, so i try to immerse myself in a glorious pumpkin wonderland every october in order to try and not have a stroke.

thanks to pumpkinpatchesandmore.org (seriously) i was able to assess which pumpkin patch would most satisfy my pumpkin patch related needs. i decided on weaver's based mostly on the availability of fudge and the presence of alpacas promised.


it took us a hundred years to get there, mostly because i still have no concept of how far a mile is, and also because we were stuck on a single lane highway behind a motorhome TOWING A CAR behind it for most of the trip. by the time we arrived at weaver's, bear and i both had SEVERE road rage, i had to pee so bad i think i might have shoved an old man out of the way to get to the bathroom, and i was STARVING. anyone who has spent any amount of time with me knows that when i'm hungry, it's not a good situation. i basically become the hulk, it's a problem.

even though we arrived later in the day, the place was packed. you could hardly even get inside of the farmer's market, and we had to wait in line so long that i ate entire turkey hoagie (which tasted like the greatest thing i've ever eaten) prior to arriving at the cash register. the cashier literally had to scan the bar code off an empty wrapper. whoops. at least i was fed, un-hulked, and we obtained fudge. PUMPKIN PIE FUDGE. so i guess it was worth it.

every year i seem to forget that everyone brings their shitty kids to the pumpkin patch. can't i go ANYWHERE without having to be conscious of who i'm swearing around??? fuck man, keep that shit in the car. (crack a window first, i'm not a monster.)

with the exception of the existence of other humans and their young, i had fun with bear looking at all the pumpkins, squashes, gourds, etc. around the farm and my rage rested at a comfortable "somewhat annoyed" level for most of the day.

my rage levels spent a brief time in the elusive "slightly irritated" zone when i was presented with still warm sugared apple donuts and fresh pressed hot apple cider.

the key is to never stop eating. ever.

alright, so lets pick out some pumpkins and get the capital c out of here.

(son of bitch bear is adorable. look at him!!!)

hello person behind me in line, even though i hate you, please take our photo and make sure you know nothing about light source composition. got it? great job.

guess what? pumpkins are heavy assholes. i don't even know why i thought i liked them. we had to carry them up a steep hill and over to the next county where we had to park. and because my feeble arms are only used to lifting food to my mouth i had to put my pumpkin on my head like a lunatic to carry it.

i really hope this doesn't have bugs on it.

after all that BS our pumpkins made it to the car alive and well.

and bear kissed it better. (rage levels lowered to "awww bear".)

did you see the alpacas? neither did i. son of a bitch. at least i got fudge. and a donut. and apple cider. and a crazy good hoagie. and a kiss from a my husband who deserves a robot exoskeleton to play in for putting up with my bullshit.

note to self: wake up, take a xanex, proceed with life.

love so pauvre