Yesterday, we spent our first whole day together. I want to remember every detail of it. You see, it was the first time that I actually felt like your mom-mom. We were alone. I was yours and you were mine.
I walked in the door and whispered “Hello” because I didn’t know if you were asleep. I was greeted by your wonderfully loud squeal that sounded so much like “HI!” It was the first of so many smiles you gave me. There you were, in your bassinet, all smiles, waves, and kicks. I can’t remember ever seeing a more joyful baby. Have I told you how beautiful you are?
You sat in your little chair and we played. You talked to your giraffe and the little froggie. You are a happy baby.
We lay on your play blanket and even made a fort. You are too young for a fort, but who cares? You laughed and cooed. I pretended that I couldn’t find you, asking “Where’s Logan?” You responded by kicking your feet and squealing. Were you playing too? Were you calling to me? It felt that way.
I fed you and you looked into my eyes while you ate. You held my fingers as your eyes grew heavy. Slowly you grew ‘bottle drunk’. I burped you held you through your hiccups. You threw up on me and I was okay with that. It made you feel better and the smiles returned. I changed your diaper and you were happy through that too. I found your ticklish spots and you giggled for me. It was a beautiful sound.
Eventually you slept and what a peaceful baby you were. Did you dream of playing with me? Did you dream of chasing your dog, Maggie? Or did you dream of Mommy and Daddy and playing with Jazzy? You smiled often while you dreamed.
You woke up and fussed. I could tell your belly bothered you. I felt sad, and wondered if I were to blame. Did you get too much air? Did you not burp enough? You cried. I ran the faucet and you calmed down. Every five minutes or so you did that for half an hour. But when you calmed down, you cooed and smiled. Finally you farted. My lord, child, you sounded like your dad. Then you pooped.
And farted and pooped some more.
I waited until I was sure you were finished and when I removed your diaper, you took my breath away. Goodness, you make big smellies! And then I noticed that it was up your back too. When I took off your onesie, I smeared it in your hair too and you needed a bath. Good thing mommy came home because suddenly I needed extra hands! But I learned how much you love your bath. You happily kicked and squealed as your mommy cleaned you and washed your hair. And you stayed calm as we dressed you afterwards.
All good things must end and our day was one of those good things. Pop-Pop came to pick me up and as we began to drive away, he told me to “stop it”. What was it that he wanted me to stop doing?
I was smiling, ear to ear. Without even realizing it, I was still smiling. You made me so very happy.
I can barely wait until next week when we do this again.
Hirsute-adj.- hairy, covered with hair
I am hirsute. All over my arms, and legs I am covered with thick dark hair. It grows very quickly and is very annoying.
Another place that I have hair is my chin (as in beard-ish) and under my nose (as in mustache-ish) I spend lots of time frequently plucking those mother fuckers. I tried waxing and I end up with patches of hair that I have to pluck anyway. I’ve never used the depilatory products on my face, mostly because they were always a waste of time and money to use on my legs.
Before the holidays, I got busy. I didn’t have the time to set aside just to sit and pluck, so I decided “What the hell” and I found myself in the depilatory aisle. So many products and so little difference, except for the price. I decided to go for the CVS brand.
I read the instructions and did my little ‘spot test’. No adverse reaction. Yay! And then I continued.
I used it on a Monday. It actually worked. Only a very small needed to be plucked and I chalked that up to missing a spot in the application. On the whole I was relatively satisfied. The only thing worth mentioning is that by Wednesday, I had flaky skin wherever I had used the product. This was a week before Christmas. I only needed a tiny bit of plucking maintenance.
Flash forward to the new year.
I let the hair grow in a tad. I haven’t been out of the house much and therefore, I let myself go. Last night, I decided that since I was still awake at nine o’clock, and everyone else was in bed, I would take advantage of the time and do it once again.
There is one sentence in the instructions that I failed to commit to memory:
Yep. That says it all. If I had remembered that, I wouldn’t have ended up with this:
I cleaned the cream off and applied the skin soother just like the directions said to. Yes, it stung a bit. I wrote that off as perhaps I left it on too long. I checked the clock and guess what? I actually took it off after less time than recommended. It was a little pink but whatever.
This morning I woke up to that. ^^^ I look like my husband beat me or something! It still stings to the touch but aloe gel has calmed the skin down alot. Now what? Can I still complain about this even though they snuck that little caveat in there?
I think I’ll ask my hubby for laser hair removal next year for Christmas.
Lemme Break It Down…
Thus the New Year enters…..
Where have I been? you may ask. I’ve been around. The holidays took up a good bit of time. Family took up a good bit more. On the whole, December was an awesome month. I just didn’t blog about it that’s all.
**I spent a few days with Logan without the distraction of family. He slept most of the time of course, but I got to snuggle him.
**December 8th was my mom’s birthday. I didn’t forget it. But I DID forget that it was her SEVENTIETH! Holy shit! What kind of daughter am I to forget that?! I’ll tell you what kind. The kind that also forgot that December 9th was Mom and Dad’s FIFTIETH anniversary. My brothers and sister gave me a lot of grief for that. According to them, since I am the oldest, it is MY responsibility to keep track of these things. I should have planned something big for that. Well, the sibs and I did discuss this back in August. The problem was that work was slowing down for my brothers, my sister wanted something huge with a small price tag and it was too close to the holidays, so the idea was scrapped. We all ended up being at Mom and Dad’s house that night anyway with champagne and Logan. We all agreed to go out for dinner the following week. Joe and his wife weren’t in a place to afford going, but I offered to cover his bill as his birthday was the day after the dinner. Dan offered to pay for Mom and Dad. We went out to dinner-all four of us kids and our spouses as well as Babygirl and Son1. We had a wonderful evening. We sat drinking and laughing and finally waiting and waiting for the bill. Finally my brother Dan asked the waitress to bring it, as we were all ready to leave. She said it had already been paid. My husband paid for it all. All he asked was that they cover the tip generously. And they did. When I asked why he had done that, he said because he knew it meant alot to me to be with the family without stress. And he was right. He told everyone Merry Christmas.
**I spent time with Babygirl and my girlfriends in Center City Philadelphia. We saw a traditional Holiday light show, did more than a little shopping and did lunch/dinner at a very nice restaurant. It was a wonderful day full of laughter and friendship. It is something that we hope to make a tradition for ourselves.
**Christmas Eve was the usual family night. Lots of people, lots to drink and the ONLY time that I went to bathroom, my nephews banged on the door yelling “Aunt Chrissy! Santa Clause is here and he’s looking for YOU!” What the hell? I ran out of the bathroom to see him standing in the middle of my living room, speaking not a word to anyone in the house. He leaned to me and said “Merry Christmas, bitch!” It was my friend Nancy dressed up. I laughed so hard my sides ached. It was a wonderful cherry on the top of the evening. I mean, really! How often does anyone get called a ‘bitch’ by Santa?
The ring on the top is the fake. He did a good job of matching it, no?
**Christmas came and I got gems. I had bought a fake gem ring to wear with an outfit and I loved it. Unfortunately, it was beginning to tarnish and I was sad about that. Hubs remedied that by getting me a real one. I love it. I also love Logan. He is at a cute age where he imitates sticking his tongue out, he laughs and smiles constantly. He certainly brings a new level of joy to the holidays.
**The Friday after Christmas, Hubs had his teeth pulled. This has been a long time coming. It was his Christmas gift to himself. Unfortunately for me, he got all but two pulled and it took alot out of him. And so, I am paying for all the joys he has given me by nursing him through this. We are spending every waking hour together…..every…..waking……hour. I can’t wait for retirement…<–insert sarcastic voice here!
So you see, my friends, I am here, I am busy and I am happy. I just can’t believe that I went almost a whole month away from here. I hope your holidays were full of joys and family. I wish you love, laughter and prosperity in the new year.
I love you all.
Itchy and Scratchy
I had big plans for today.
The house has been pretty clean since Thanksgiving. I finally caught up on laundry and now I’ve gotten the Christmas spirit. I thought that maybe I’d put up some decorations and after vacuuming up the ever-present glitter and styrofoam, I’d shampoo the carpets this weekend.
Alas, dear reader, this is not to be. Lemme ‘splain….
I was curled up in my bed patiently waiting for hubs to go to work so that I could get up and get busy. The dogs were snuggled up with me, the room was dark and the blankets were toasty. Hubs called the dogs to go out and they bounded from the bed. I found their warm spots and sighed with happiness. I began to doze….
“Chris! Wake up. Bandit doesn’t have a skin irritation. The dogs have fleas!”
I’m awake now!
But they’re INDOOR dogs! They are rarely near other animals! How could this happen??
Together, Hubs and I ran down the list of “maybes”. Maybe a holiday guest brought them in on their clothes? Maybe on Hub’s work clothes? Maybe the UPS guy when he brought in that big box the other day? Or maybe…the vet’s when Mordecai got his snippage…..exactly one month ago? I tend to doubt that one because Bandit was itchy before that.
No matter. I still have to get started. I strip the bed, the couches, and gather up the dogs’ beds and pillows. I gather the throw blankets, the sneakers that have been sitting next to Bandit’s bed.
Now I have run the shoes and pillows through the dryer. The washer is full of sheets, soon to be followed by the blankets. Hubs will get some jobs started and return with flea dip, powder and spray. Of course he will leave to finish work while I deal with this mess. The laundry I was happy to be done with, has been replace by mountains of new laundry.
My body itches. Not a single bite anywhere to be found on me, but I itch nonetheless. I think of how the dogs cuddled with me in my bed, on the couches. I think of them rolling on the floor, hiding behind the couches as they played with the kongs. As I walk through the rooms of the house, all I can think of is how the dogs did “this” over “there” and now I should clean there. I am exhausted already.
Now I will still be vacuuming and shampooing my carpets.
Just not for the happy reasons.
Way Back In The Day…….
See that group of people? We go back. Further than high school. Further than grade school. My brothers and sister are in that group. I’ve known them all their lives. The others? They shared cribs and playpens with my siblings. I babysat them. I changed and fed them. We lived next door to each other, around the corner. We knocked on bedroom walls and giggled in the middle of the night.
I remembered my brother’s first kiss with Debbie. We teased that they would marry someday. Instead they ended up going to prom together.
I remember Anthony eating worms and sticking turtles in his pants.
I was jealous of the Barbie’s and accessories that Donna and Diane had. I had a knock-off ‘fashion doll’.
I played wiffleball with all of those boys in the playground behind our houses.
See the guy front and center in the dark hoodie? His name is Joe and he is the baby. He will be 40 on his next birthday…..if he sees his next birthday.
Joe has cancer. His bills have started rolling in and his insurance has just ended. Isn’t that the way things like this happen? We threw a beef and beer to raise money for those bills. Tickets were sold out. Raffles and gift auctions raised even more. There was lots of dancing and drinking and laughter. And food! Good Lord, I’ve never seen so much food! Almost all of it was gone by the end of the night.
More than the money, Joe’s spirits were raised. It’s been forever since all of us were gathered in one room. We hugged each other repeatedly and caught ourselves just staring across the room at each other, smiling with memory.
I remembered our mothers as being taller. Now they are beginning to bend with age. I remembered seeing them coming home after a ‘date night’ with their husbands, slightly flushed and tipsy. Now…..wow, how time flies.
As the holidays come, we will gather with our own families. Maybe one or two will show up at another’s home. We promised to get together more often, but will we? I hate the thought that the next time we will be together, one of us will be missing…..not just somewhere else, but gone.
But damn, it was cool to be little kids again…….if only in our memories.
Okay, so yesterday I was a bitch. I mean BITCH. I was annoyed at everything. All that stuff going on with Penn State was everywhere….Facebook, Twitter and television. I flicked off the television. I logged off of fb. I was on Twitter for a bit. It was nice chatting with everyone and taking my mind off of the craving that was slowly grinding away at my willpower. I walked away from the laptop and cleaned the kitchen. I came back and got some support and left again to clean the bathroom. Back and forth I went, twitter and clean, twitter and clean.
Around three-ish, I hit the craving of a lifetime. I decided to light a candle and read for a bit. It took me six matches to light that wick. I needed to go into the office for a second pack. There on the desk was an opened pack of cigarettes. I reached for it and looked inside.
I could easily take one. God knows, I wanted it bad enough. But I didn’t because of something I had read earlier on Twitter. “I gave in and smoked. I will try again tomorrow”. My smoke buddy had fallen. I had answered her comment with “We can do this!” Remembering that, I broke the smokes and threw them away.
Hubs came home a short time later. It was his bad luck to come in just as another craving struck me.
“Motherfucker! You left cigarettes here! Were you trying to tempt me or test me?!! Wait, don’t answer me! I don’t want to know. I hate you right now!”
He apologized profusely. He couldn’t say enough.
I cursed him up and down. I wouldn’t let him say a word. He asked where paperwork was. I told him to look for himself. He asked if the mail had come. I asked if he saw it on his desk. I made him chicken for dinner. I made it the one way he dislikes it, and I was happy about that.
I hated myself for acting this way. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve this. I wanted to kick my own ass.
He went out after dinner to check on something. He came home after an hour and went to his office. He took a shower and sat next to me on the couch. Just looking at him I could feel that switch flip again. All the sorrow I felt for being a bitch disappeared. I wanted a fight again.
Before I could do something I’d regret, I wanted a shower. I hoped that I could wash away the anger. But a shower meant wetting my hair and that was just one more thing that I didn’t want to deal with. I looked into the bathroom and was overcome with a sudden desire for a BATH. I began to run the water.
In my old house, I had one of those big, deep bathtubs on claw feet. I would take a bath as often as possible. Candle, music, head pillow…..the whole nine yards. When we moved, I was once again the owner of a standard tub. It wasn’t as deep. The water barely covered my boobs. My chest and shoulders get cold while the rest of me soaks. I gave up the baths in favor of showers.
Tonight, however, I wanted that bath more than anything….except a cigarette. The peach scented bubble bath I used to use had a layer of dust on it. I no longer have the bath pillow. Undeterred, I poured in the bubbles and watched them foam up.
It smelled heavenly. My body began to relax before I finished undressing. I eased myself in…..and floated away. The candle added an undertone of vanilla to the peach steam filling the room. I lay in the tub soaking, basking in the warmth. After about forty-five minutes, I was pruney enough and tried to get out of the water. No bath mat plus bubble bath equals a slippery tub. I needed help so I called for Hubs.
“I need someone to hang onto. It’s too slippery and I’m afraid that I’ll fall.”
He came into the bathroom and placed a towel on the side of the tub. I pulled myself up and began to step out of the water. He held my arm with one hand and reached for a second towel with his other hand. I was totally out of the shower and he began to gently dry my body. It felt so good. I was like putty.
“I didn’t leave those cigarettes on purpose. I’m sorry you felt like I let you down.”
“No, I’m sorry I took things out on you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was itching for a fight and you were the closest to me. I’m sorry.”
We kissed and moved into the bedroom.
Because Babygirl still reads my posts, I will spare her the details of what her parents did next. (made love…LOL)
This is the reward for thirty-one years of marriage. He can take what I dish out. Today I was a raving lunatic. This will get better. I know it will. It will pass.
But our love for each other will not pass.
I am his lunatic.
Truth or Consequences.
Truth-I hate housework.
Consequence-I tried to fit something in my cabinet and discovered that the shelf liner had been pushed to the back, thus creating a lump that took up space. My ‘full’ cabinet wasn’t as full as I thought. Now I have to clean my cabinets.
Truth-Boredom is my eating trigger.
Consequence-I find myself getting bored and then I pace. Suddenly I look up and realize that I am in the kitchen looking for a snack. This is horrible because my house has lots of chips, cookies, ice cream and candy. I am not the only that eats that stuff so I can’t just hide it or stop keeping it in the house.
Truth-I like to cook.
Consequence-I made two different things to eat for dinner (for myself) and there are leftovers that just don’t taste the same when they’ve been frozen. Now that my desire to cook and eat them has been fulfilled, I find myself looking at the leftovers thinking “I have to eat that before it gets bad.”
Truth– I started smoking again in July. The fact that Hubs knew and was buying me the cigarettes, made me feel less guilty. Less guilty=smoking more.
Consequences– I started the patch on Monday in order to quit. Today is Day 3, or is it #4? I don’t know and I don’t care. I am bitchy as hell. I am cleaning my house, cooking, and eating.
But not smoking……so I guess there’s that.
As my husband’s business partner, I deal with a myriad of things. I send out emails, write up the billing, catch the faxes that come and go, and search the internet for supplies that are hard to find at our local supply houses. The most important thing, however, is answering the phone. I am the voice of the company. Customers call me to ask if this is the correct business for their needs. They call when they electrical emergencies and even for something as trivial as flipping a switch on their fuse boxes.
Today, I got a call from a guy who needed to reschedule an appointment. This isn’t usually a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal in this case either. The big deal stemmed from the attitude I subjected to.
This condescending asshat used words like ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’. There was also, the “Can he call me between 2 and 3? Not earlier because I’ll be at lunch and not later, because I’ll be going home. I don’t take calls because I will be working at home this evening.” Worst of all, he said “I’m sure that you can have him call me back. I’d rather talk to him. I’m pretty sure that you’re not the one who can tell me what the scheduling looks like.”
This guy doesn’t know me from Adam. Who calls a business and talks to the employees like this? Just because we are a small business, it doesn’t give a person the right to assume so much. I guess he doesn’t realize that I wrote his number on a napkin which I promptly used to blow my nose. Too bad his last name was a little too complicated for me to remember. Oh, and as for the Friday afternoon appointment? Hubs will be enticed to stay with me for a little ‘afternoon delight’ and on Saturday, we may need to visit the baby.
Hey, guy! Find someone else to put your fancy flat screen on the wall for you. You wouldn’t be the first one I’ve kicked to the curb. Even millionaires need to learn a little respect when they call this company. We have a reputation for being clean, polite and respectful to all of our customers. We only ask for the same in return.
Tuesday November 01st 2011, 10:23 AM
Filed under: happy
Alas, poor blog, I have again been neglectful. However, I must beg your forgiveness for this time, it was neither mere laziness nor lack of inspiration. It was an event so momentous that it will change my life forever.
I have become a grandmother.
Shortly after the last post, while raking, Hubs stumbled upon a nest of wasps. In their anger, they stung him 8-10 times in the back of his left shoulder. In his haste to pull off the shirt, he tweaked his tendonitis and damaged rotator cuff. This meant a week of taking him to the doctor and MRIs and x-rays. Next stop will be orthopedist because we fear that stings have exacerbated damage that we have ignored for many years.
As we were coming to terms with all of that, we were also awaiting the birth of the grandson. Babygirl came home for her 20th birthday, and we took her out for a family dinner. Shenanigans came too and she broke the news that she had been having contractions for the past 24 hours. We were so excited. Son1 had even been running errands and doing his soccer coaching with her emergency bag in the back of his car! Two days after dinner, we got a call that she was at the hospital.
Oh the excitement!! It was 6:30am. I rushed to shower and change. Hubs rushed to get a job started so that he could be available when it was time for us to go to the hospital. The phone rang at 11. The doctor was sending Shenanigans home because she wasn’t quite done baking. The adrenaline crash was maddening.
The following days were spent making sure that the house was clean, that laundry was done and meals were ready in anticipation of a sudden day spent with Son1. Doctor visits occurred on Tuesday and Thursday and still, the doctor said she wasn’t ready. Thursday’s appointment even included pre-op forms to prepare for inducing labor on Halloween.
I was sitting home on Friday, relaxing with a book and a cup of coffee. It was cooling off and the weathermen were calling for snow–IN OCTOBER! What a rare occurrence! The phone rang at 3, dragging me from the book. Son1 was heading to the hospital straight from work. Shenanigans had gone to the hospital at noon and didn’t call anyone until she had made sure that it was time. This time, her water had broken and things were starting to progress. I called Hubs, texted Babygirl and Son2 and by 5, I was headed to the hospital.
Son kept us informed. “She’s getting an epidural now.” “It’s progressing nicely” “Can you pick up Jazzy?”
Jazzy had been in school when her mom left the house. She was with her Pop-Pop and was waiting for word about her new brother. We raced to get her through the rain which had started, past our own home, to Son1’s house. She jumped into the car, and told us how excited she was. And then I got a text.
We made our way back to the nursery and signed in. We were ushered to a room where we found my son, cradling his own son in his arms. He looked at me and tears began streaming down his cheeks. “He’s beautiful Mommy! Jazzy, come see your brother!”
This is Logan Gibson Hutton. He is only one hour old.
I beheld a perfect little boy, his eyes wide and alert. His head turned to follow my son’s voice as he moved around the room. Shenanigans was glowing, even in her discomfort and exhaustion. The love in the room was almost overwhelming.
With a great effort, we dragged ourselves away to leave the little family to bond together. Snow had begun in earnest and it would continue for the next ten hours. We went to dinner to celebrate and have a few drinks.
As we sat at the bar, one of our favorite bartenders came over and said “I haven’t seen you guys in a while. What’s new?” And then it happened…….
I became that grandmother…..
“Let me show you a picture of my new grandson…..”
Now I need a bumper sticker and a shirt that states “Ask me about my grandkid.”
Oh Lord, SAVE ME FROM MYSELF!!!!
Prison Bucket List
Among the various things on my “bucket list” were two things: Visit a truly haunted place, and go to a decent house of horrors.
Hubs hates blood and gore. He’s not a fan of haunted houses at Halloween. And most of all, he has no belief whatsoever in the paranormal. As I get older, I was coming to the realization that most of my friends echo his feelings. I’ve been told haunted houses are “for kids” and that “we’re too old for that kind of thing”. Babygirl hates being scared. Son1 prefers to go with Jazzy or his other ‘friends-with-kids’. Son2? He’s too fucking cool to be seen with his mom at a scare house.
And so….I got a message on Facebook from my girl Teri. A friend of hers is visiting from Florida (where he is a scenery designer at Universal Studios horror houses.) One of the things he wanted to do was to visit Eastern State Penitentiary. Immediately, Teri thought of me and invited me to go with them.
Oh..my…God!!! I barely took a breath before I messaged her that YES! Of course I wanted to go!!
Eastern State is a truly haunted prison. It has been featured on several paranormal shows and many unexplained occurrences have been documented there. However, every Halloween season, it is turned into Terror Behind the Walls. Whether it is it’s notoriety as a haunted place or the fact that it is in the city, no one ever wanted to go. I was so excited about this that I found myself counting down the days, and hours, until I would be there. Before I fell asleep at night, I imagined what it would be like. I imagined a contact outside of the realm of ‘spooking’. Would I possibly feel a cold blast of air? Would I see a dark, unexplained shape? I got chills…anticipation? fear? Both!
Teri parked a distance away where we go on the ‘Ghost Shuttle’, a tourist trolley car run by the event. We were treated to a story told by a guy dressed in costume. This was an opportunity lost. This guy must have had ADD because his story was not scary, spooky, or even coherent. He went off on too many tangents. Why not have one scripted story of ghost, ghouls or unexplained noises? This could have turned on the imagination before ever getting to the main course! If not a ghost story, then perhaps a story about the Prison’s history, that would tie in with the areas of the tour that we would be exposed to. Like I said, an opportunity lost.
We pulled up at the Prison and joined our friends, signed our ‘release form’ and got in line. Several characters roamed about setting the stage for creeps and chills. The wait to get into the prison itself was kind of long, but it actually went pretty quickly. The characters creeped us out, there were tv monitors showing paranormal videos of the prison, and there was just the curiosity of looking at a building with such a heinous history.
Inside the prison, we were treated to the standard ‘scare house’ fare. Strobe lights, creeps that stared or followed you, the ones who stole up behind us to softly blow on our necks. There was the infirmary with its mad doctors, the intake with its sadistic guards, and the cells themselves. I was particularly happy with the 3D portion. Looking down at my feet, it was as if my legs went into the floor! But again, there were opportunities lost. Why not have a dummy operation on the hospital table? Why not a gore covered ‘doctor’?
Of course, it all ends with a Gift Shop. It was not overly big, and the selection was small but very cool. And the prices? Pretty decent.
I have to say that it wasn’t as scary as I had hoped but it was very good overall. I didn’t have any otherworldly experiences. I do , however, plan on going back during the daytime to take the more historical tour, in which cameras are allowed, and you get to see the closed off cells, like that occupied by Al Capone during his incarceration. The cool thing is that we were given coupons for a discount on the return tickets.
Speaking of tickets….There was a fee for an “Exit Pass” . We had parked at a designated parking lot. In order to get onto the shuttle back to the lot, we needed an exit pass. This was used to get off the lot with the car! I confess that I did see it listed when I purchased my ticket online. But what if someone missed that? What if they had run out money? Now THAT is a scary thought!
Will I go back for the scare house? YES. It was a fun time. Will I go back for the day tour? DEFINITELY!
So I got a two-fer off my bucket list. A truly haunted place, and a cool scare house.
This is not a paid review for Eastern State Penitentiary…..Although it would be cool if it was!!