Bevvy G

Guys, I had another post all written and scheduled for today. I’ve actually been working on that one for a while, as it kicks off a (very short) series introducing you to some new Mayberry characters (get pumped), and I wanted to get a few things in place before I published it. So, it was all ready to go after a few tweaks last night, and I thought that would be my post for the day.

That is, until I walked into my first workout in over a week. It was 4:55 am, and I was obviously only half-awake. But do you wanna know what pulled me out of my slumber faster than the promise of some champagne and a college football game?

A dogbed. 

You guessed it. Monty.

Yeah. Remember how I swore off taking Monty’s mom’s classes? Well, her name wasn’t on the class when I signed up for it! Something must have happened to my dear 5am Gwendolyn, because good ol’ Melissa was staring me in the face instead. All six foot, butterfly clip-wearing, plastic-surgery-looking, Arbonne salesman of her.

I did learn something new, though. At one point, she actually said, “Let the cocker spaniel be your inspiration, Bev!” So, Monty isn’t a King Charles. Like anyone actually thought I knew that…

And you know what else I learned?

Monty’s mom is still an asshole, and an even bigger one than I originally thought.

-Bev

I just came home to a surprise bottle of Margarita and Bloody Mary mix on my doorstep. 

TJ Maxx bag.

No note.

Secret Drinkmirer, please reveal yourself! (and then come back for happy hour!)

Love,

Bev

P.S.- This is especially key, as my wine is still stuck in my drawer. My tequila and vodka aren’t!

If you live alone, you could take an actual sip of your Qdoba queso and nobody would know about it.

You could also probably dig the chips you promised yourself you wouldn’t eat out of the trash and secretly eat those too.

Theoretically.

-Bev

Today, I woke up to a Snapchat from an old college friend, Margaret. She stated that she had just burned her leg with her curling wand while trying to iron her pants (presumably with said curling wand).

I am just so happy that I am not the only person that this type of shit happens to.

I also had dinner with a cousin who was visiting MyCity last night. She arrived to the airport for her flight yesterday only to realize that she had booked her flight(s) for March. Then she left her wallet on the plane.

Trapping all of your wine in one drawer just doesn’t seem so bad right now, does it, Beverly?

-Bev

Well, guys, Bev had yesterday off, and so did my girl, Marcella, so we took a little road trip to some hot springs. To be honest, the trip didn’t have as many “stories” as one who knows Bev and Marcy might expect, but of course, we had a great time. Marcella and I have never traveled together before, so I got to find out that she likes to sleep in an 800 degree room, and she got to find out that I will literally make friends with random people when you least expect it- hi, Dan and Ashley (Dashley), the cute couple I met on a 75-second trip to the ice machine!

The road trip part of the trip was quite memorable, as Marcy and I located a Sikh gurdwara in a place where…. you certainly wouldn’t expect a Sikh gurdwara, Bev left her business cards in lots of trashy interstate bathrooms, Marcella tried a new type of Trident gum that apparently tastes like scented trash bags (you know how I feel about those), and we stopped for some really wonderful artery-clogging food on our way home at Vern’s, where Marcy bought her sister a cotton candy car air freshener tree. It’s tie-dyed.

My favorite part of the drive was when Marcella made us pull over so she could feed some random horses on the side of the road, and then I made her put on hand sanitizer before she got back in the car.

My second favorite part of the trip is those two guys. Marcella and I have been naming them for the last 48 hours. What do you think? Lloyd and Earl, perhaps? Perhaps.

Oh, and that is not even 10% of the taxidermy we encountered this weekend.

-Bev

Today, I returned from a short road trip (recap coming soon), and immediately went to the grocery store, then spent over an hour prepping food for the week (hi, steak salads for lunch, and quinoa with berries and honey for breakfast).

Then, I ate 2 tablespoons of peanut butter, a clementine, and an undisclosed/unmeasured amount of ZzzQuil for dinner.

With some Sauv Beasty, naturally.

I don’t know either. 

-Bev

I am trying out a new gym this week on a free week to see if I’d like to possibly buy a package or membership. I’m liking it so far, even though the workout takes place on one of these death machines and I’m quite certain that I will end up face-planting into the cement floor below me at some point. (stay tuned)

The real problem, though, isn’t the workout. The real problem is Monty. Monty is the annoying teacher from today’s dog, and let me tell ya- he’s a real asshole.

First of all, someone whose name rhymes with Meverly Scholdenstein accidentally arrived thirty minutes early to the workout (which is super cool on a Saturday morning for a 7:30am class). Being the time-efficient person that she is, Meverly spent her time researching hotels for an upcoming trip while sitting in the parking lot, kicking herself for not double-checking the time and getting extra half an hour of sleep. While she was sitting there in her car, she hears an obnoxious barking (not atypical in MyCity, as people bring their Godforsaken animals everywhere – see this post). Meverly turns around to see that not only is this dog accompanying the woman is who is obviously opening the workout studio, and going to be the teacher, but she is carrying his dog bed. Like, she brought her dog and his full-size dog bed to the gym. Now, Monty is not a large dog by any means, but he’s also no chihuahua. I actually think he was a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel (one of very few dog breeds I actually know, because Fawn has one- you might remember her from here and here). The point? It’s not like Monty’s gonna be sleeping on a bed the size of shoe box. This bed takes some work to haul around. Obviously, bringing it to the gym seems like a good idea…

So, now, I walk in to this gym, (it’s my first time at this location), and I just heard the instructor say to get out weights, but I didn’t know where they were, so I was trying to ask her and she literally made me wait until after she filled the dog’s bowl with water before she showed me the weights. Excellent customer service, Monty’s mom!

At this point, I’m obviously furious, but I’m pressing on to get my workout on. And don’t worry- it’s not like Monty sleeps in the lobby area of the studio, and is out of the way while we’re trying to work out. No, his happy little ass is trotting around, sniffing people, touching our towels, etc. I only wish he would’ve come close enough for me to kick him, but I think he could feel my hatred radiating out of my body. (that, or he knew that if my fat ass somehow feel off that death machine, and onto him, he’d be dead meat)

My only saving grace is that Monty did spend quiiiiiite a bit of time sniffing/licking a tissue that I had discarded onto the floor to throw away after class.

You know what, Monty? I hope you have the sniffles.

And I hope your mom has syphilis. Though I’ll never find out, because I will not be back to that bitch’s class.

-Bev

View post on imgur.com

This Monty is more my speed.

(double post alert!)

I’m babysitting for one of my favorite families right now, and they have recently gotten a cat. His name is Peter, and so far, he hasn’t caused any issues with my alleged (hopeful) cat allergy.

Earlier, I asked the 4-year-old where Peter sleeps, and she looked me dead in the eyes, 100% serious, and replied, “He doesn’t sleep.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t be more scared of Peter, I had to put the kids to bed, and now Peter and I are playing a nice game of Cat and Mouse around the open floor plan dining room/living room/kitchen.

Hint: I’m the mouse.

#PeterIsInControl 

#ButHeWillNotGetOnThisLap

#ThereIsALotOfClappingHappening

-Bev

P.S.- One Eye Open… as in, one is concentrated on the work I’m doing right now, and one is watching Peter. Also as in…. one might be swollen/crusted shut when I wake up tomorrow.

A week or two ago, I sent my nieces a Valentine’s day package. Cake mixes, pink and red cupcake liners, pink frosting, purple sprinkles, you name it.

A Valentine’s Day O’Fun, you could call it.

Or, A Valentine’s Day of ICan’tWaitUntilYouHaveKidsBecauseMyKitchenIsADisaster. I think that’s what Maude called it…

Don’t worry, though, guys. That ‘crafty’ sister o’mine got me back…

Got me back by sending me a “thank you card” full of glitter. The herpes of craft supplies.

Well played, Maude. Well played.

-Bev

P.S.- Whenever I speak/think of glitter, I think of this video. This video makes me laugh hard as all hell. Warning: this video is extremely inappropriate, and is the closest I’ve ever come to breaking my “blog rules” so proceed with caution. And by “proceed with caution,” I mean, “grab a drink and watch this video.” (but not you, MamaG)

Last year on Valentine’s Day, I bought myself Kimojis. 

This year, I bought myself these:

How do you like me now?

-Bev

P.S.- I’d like to tell all of you, my dear readers, how much I love you, on this the day after Valentine’s Day. You mean the world to me! Almost as much as my Kimojis. And with that, I’d like to provide you with a little teaser on a few upcoming posts. I’ve gained some new followers in the past two weeks or so, and I think you guys will enjoy learning about who they are (hint: they’re friends with Smoke). I’m looking at you, Mouse and A.F.