May 2015

I grew up today, y’all. Finally went into the doctor’s office, and it turns out, this ‘summer cold’ is actually something medical professionals dub ‘bronchitis’ and I am actually thankful to have it so that I can get some meds. (aka: if I would’ve gone in there and heard, “It’s a virus”…. well, this post would’ve been a mug shot)

Anyhoo, part of the issue is my lack of ability to sleep, so Doc offered me codeine cough syrup, which I… turned. down. Yep. I turned down codeine cough syrup because codeine cough syrup makes me, well, turn up¹. (I always knew I was Lil’ Wayne’s soulmate… SYZZURP FOR LIFE)

So, instead, I got some cough suppressant crap that I can take in conjunction with my AdvilPM. And some Sauvignon Blanc. She didn’t actually say that part, but it was implied.

Anyway, ain’t no party like a Doxycycline Monohydrate, Sauvignon Blanc, clam chowder, cookie dough ice cream, Benzonatate, Advil PM, Grapefruit Shandy party². If you need me, I’m on my couch surrounded by said items.

-Bev

¹I may have actually used the phrase ‘turn up’ when talking to the doctor.

²Actually, while checking out at the pharmacy, I saw some acetaminophen suppositories. I would have no idea, but I bet there’s really no party like an acetaminophen suppository party. Yikes.

Bev is still feeling pretty under the weather over here (damn you summer colds), and has been having one HELL of a time sleeping the last few days. I decided to take matters into my own hands last night and drink some expired codeine cough syrup I had hangin’ around. I snapchatted a pic of said bottle to a few peeps, and got some pretty funny responses.

My favorite of which was from my 50+ year old uncle, Bart. The snap was a pic of my Aunt Sue drinking a beer at Buffalo Wild Wings, with Bart’s caption, “Gettin’ your purple drank on, huh?”

Yeah, the Goldensteins are pretty pimp. Technically, Uncle Bart is on Mama G’s side, the Pages, but collectively, well, my family ain’t no punk.

If you read this within two hours of publication, please send up a prayer that Bev is able to stare at the back of her eyelids for at least 4-5 hours at a time tonight.

-Beverly Goldenstein-Carter
aka: Lil’ Beezy

Well, the good news is, (based on how this cold is not going away), I don’t think I’ve reached the age of having two-day hangovers.

The bad news is, I’ve reached the age where my mom has reached the age of …

a) having (and using) cardinal return address labels,

and b) sending cards sealed with candy cane stickers. In May.

-Bev

Rented American Sniper tonight. It was between that and 50 Shades of Grey. Just kidding, I would never watch that trash. It was actually between American Sniper and not renting a movie, because for me, renting a movie basically boils down to spending $4 on iTunes to play on Facebook, paint my nails, do laundry, sign up for gym classes for the week, and… well, sometimes blog. This movie is actually good enough for me to pause it while I do some of that other shit though. That’s more than I can say for most…

Anyhoo, big thanks to all the men and women who have served, are serving, and will serve our country so that jackholes like me can sit on our couches, drinking wine, taking Advil PM, and writing pointless blog posts.

-Beverly Goldenstein
American Blogger

When you wake up Monday morning, and you’re not sure if your cold is getting worse, or if you’ve officially reached the age of two-day hangovers.

Memorial Day Weekend, 2015. 

-Bev

Have you ever been so hungover that the Subway employee asks you if you need ibuprofen while he makes your sandwich?

At 3 pm?

Yeah, there was a time in my life when I, too, could answer ‘no’ to that question. That time is no longer.

Rough day.

-Beverly

This is so Fawn and Bev it hurts.

Well, minus the hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of clothing they’re wearing.

-Bev

I feel like when I was growing up, and even my first few years as an ‘adult’ (I use that term loosely), appointment reminders came in one of two forms: a friendly call or a card in the mail.

In recent months, I’ve had several orthodontist and ophthalmologist appointments, and boy, have times changed. Calls, texts, emails, phone calls, and cards in the mail reminding me of my appointment. Now, Bev has many shortcomings, but I’ll be damned if I’ve ever missed (or even been late for) an appointment. This flurry of communication is appallingly unnecessary.

First of all, I write things down. Thanks.

Second of all, every time I get a call or text from a random number, I think that maybe I met my dream man at the bar the weekend before (and don’t remember it), and he’s calling to sweep me off my feet. Or maybe, Ed McMahon is calling, and I won the sweepstakes! Nope… retainer checkup appointment for Beverly Goldenstein on Thursday at 4:30¹. Don’t worry, if you miss the call, we’ve got 3 texts and 2 emails ready to be sent in the next month, and a card on its way to your house. And if you forget, we’ll pull out all of your teeth next time you come in charge you $25.

Now, don’t get me wrong… it’s not like I ran out and bought 3 years’ worth of toilet paper during Y2K or anything, but I’m developing a real fear² of what these medical offices will try to do for appointment reminders next. If one day you wake up with no memory of the previous 24 hours, and a shock collar on, you heard it here first.

-Bev

¹What? You don’t wear a retainer at 32? I’ve inherited several of Smoke Goldenstein’s worst traits; bad teeth being one of them. I will NOT let these teeth slide back to 5th grade status. I will not.

²This is just one in a litany of Bev’s irrational fears. Like how my Achilles may be ripped out through the bottom of my foot when I walk over a door frame with screws in it. I know.

Things I’m grateful for tonight:

1) That Pinterest trick where you wrap a bottle in a wet paper towel, put it in the freezer, and it’s chilled within an hour?

It works.

2) Judging by my Google search, I’m not the only person who’s considered doing the Whole30 + alcohol.

3) But mostly, just the chilled bottle thing. It’s rare, but I was caught off guard tonight. (Off guard = no cold white wine in the house)

-Bev

PS- I had a good friend in college named Comfort. Oy.