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Bevvy G

My Main Gal

I have to take this opportunity to share one of my favorite Instagram follows with you, my favorite blog followers… meet Francys Escobar. She’s the wife of Kansas City Royal, Alcides Escobar, and I came across her somehow as I followed my girl, Kacie McDonnell (former girlfriend of KC Royal, Eric Hosmer). Anyhoo, Francys is an absolute hoot (not to her, I don’t think, but definitely to me… and I think, you), and I dug through her page to find some of my favorite photos to share with you. I also love that she posts only in Spanish (I believe she’s Colombian), so sometimes I like to make up my own captions for her.

#MomLife. (Yes, this person has a child) WHO POSES LIKE THIS?

a) those things have to actually HURT …. b) don’t make a false move, Francys! and c) I hope that bralette thing is higher quality than, say, Forever 21.

Casually holding back the ‘flyaways’ from my shellacked, bleached to high hell yarn hair! Conveniently featuring my engagement/wedding ring(s?) and all my Cartier bling. #candid

Don’t mind me. I’m just pushing my baby to the moon in these shoes.

Bringing back the ’90s slouch sock.

More casual ring photos. And some serious facial smoothing.

OK, Francys. You got me here.

I guess I’ll start going for walks in moon boots, and working out in slouch socks (MamaG, you can add those to the gift list).

-Beverly GoldWithEnvyStein

P.S.- throw my girl Francys a follow.

YouTube credit: O HAI THAR

All photo credit: Francys Escobar, herself (instagram: francysescobar2)

MamaGram

If you follow Bev on Instagram, you saw a post this week of MamaG setting up Instagram on her iPad. And by, “MamaG setting up Instagram on her iPad,” I mean, “MamaG rapid firing questions at Bev about how to set up Instagram on her iPad.”

Highlights include her following me into the bathroom, and asking me questions while I was sitting on the toilet. Most of the questions had to do with what happens when she “sends” an Instagram. I tried to tell her that you don’t “send” an Instagram (even though you now can- that’s not beginner level), but then I did “send” her an Insta message from the bathroom, which she somehow figured out how to answer.

Another favorite moment was when she was asking me if she followed _____, would he be able to “see that” (which I think means know that she followed him)…. so I told her he could see her right now. (she didn’t believe me)

My absolute favorite moment, though, was when we were in the initial setup process, and Insta asked if she wanted to follow people who are already in her contacts or something along those lines, and shortly after, came up with some suggestions for her to follow. The suggestions were all verified accounts, and she slowly reads down the list…. “Nike, no. Starbucks, no. Justin Timberlake? He’s not in my contacts!”

So, there you have it. MamaG has Instagram, and she even kind of knows how to use it, as I woke up this morning to see that she has added a profile picture! It’s of Smoke and her on a tractor, just in case you’re wondering.

Before we know it, she’ll be sliding into Justin Timberlake’s DMs.

-Bev

Dreamz

Yesterday, I had a dream that I dozed off on Smoke and MamaG’s couch for a little Thanksgiving Eve nap. I was in the very beginning stages of light sleep, peppered with the occasional, “You sonofabitch!” from the kitchen, as MamaG was preparing today’s turkey, which, apparently meant killing it a second time. Then, as I drift into a deeper sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Smoke Goldenstein. Ringing the doorbell at his own house, because he had basically cut off the tip of his thumb, and was bleeding everywhere. I then woke up and had to spring into action, gathering gauze and tape until MamaG was at a good stopping point with ol’ Tom so she could then tend to Smokey G. After everything was taken care of, I had to help MamaG put Tom into a bag to sit in the fridge to be ready for his big moment today. (That’s the annual Thanksgiving Eve tradition of me gagging into a turkey carcass while MamaG half-laughs-her-ass-off and half-yells-at-me-about-how-I’ll-have-to-make-a-turkey-someday but then I yell back about how I’ll pay someone to take out the innards and secretly pray that I never have to make a turkey.)

Happy Thanksgiving to you, my lovely readers. I’m thankful for you. All 48 of you. You, and Joe Biden memes. Oh, and that I’m not wearing a sling this year.

Cheers!

-Beverly

P.S.- That wasn’t a dream.

Yorkman’s

Bev is home in Mayberry for a few days for the holiday, and MamaG dragged me to River City to go shopping. This includes mostly us going to MamaG’s favorite store, which we’ll call Yorkman’s. Yorkman’s is a Midwestern department store, and I think they could be internationally famous for their coupon offerings. MamaG is somewhat of a Yorkman’s coupon connoisseur. Every time one walks into Yorkman’s with MamaG, you’ll get a coupon briefing, which makes absolutely zero sense to anyone but MamaG, and the Yorkman’s cashier (though sometimes even they can’t follow all the discounts). Literally, it’s like a secret code of yellow dot, doorbuster, bonus buy, and incredible values. I think Barack releasing the nukes is probably less complicated than MamaG unleashing her Yorkman’s discounts. Checking out at Yorkman’s with her is seriously something like this:

Also, we’ve officially reached the time of year where MamaG wants to buy absolutely everything for us for Christmas. Not… like… she wants to buy us lots of Christmas presents. Like… everything that is purchased is purchased for Christmas.

Two $3 candles at Target? Do you want that for Christmas?

A $12 pair of gloves that I need for Friday for an outdoor event that I’m attending? Do you want me to buy you that for Christmas?

Seriously, I am pretty sure that the peppermint mocha she bought me from McDonald’s to power us through our grocery trip might end up in my stocking somehow.

-Bev

Cheffin’

Chef Bevardee is back in the kitchen, and it turns out…. whenever she uses a cheese grater, she comes up with all new recipe combinations!

For example, tonight, I made a broccoli, bacon, cheddar, and O-positive quiche. Earlier this weekend, I made a broccoli cheddar soup with the unexpected addition of knuckle skin.

Seriously, are there people out there who can use cheese graters without blood being involved?

-Bev

P.S.- Yes, I’m still eating broccoli.

Bev’s Bionic Broccoli

Today, I am thankful for broccoli-heavy recipes.

I know you’re probably thinking, “What the shit, Bev?”, but hear me out.

Two weeks ago, I accidentally bought two 35-pound¹ bags of fresh broccoli. (#ClassicMistake) I hadn’t opened the second one, and it seemed to be holding up well, so I did some Googling today, and found some broccoli-heavy recipes. (One can only eat so much steamed or roasted broccoli)

I may do a fair amount of frivolous spending, but I am Smoke Goldenstein’s daughter, and if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s throwing away food.

Oh, and you know what else I’m thankful for? Cheese.

Bev in the kitchen tonight: halves recipe, as she’s cooking for one. Maintains recipe directions for cheese.

-Beverly Danger Goldenstein

¹35-pound is probably an exaggeration. But these were big bags of broccoli, y’all. You could easily fit an infant inside of each bag. And if you did put an infant inside of one (or both) of the bags, maybe he/she could help you eat some broccoli.

Election Night

I can reveal neither the identity of the author of this email, nor the recipient, but I’m just going to leave this here for tonight…

#Don’tBeSurprisedIfThisGetsDeletedLater

#IMightNotGetAnyChristmasPresents

#WoodenSpoon

-Beverly Goldenstein

#I’mWithBeer

Gratitude Journal Part 2

Well, we’re about a week into November, so I thought I’d tally up some more shiznit that I am thankful for (dangling prepositions included):

-I’m thankful that MyTeam doesn’t play any team whose colors involve red anytime soon, because that means I can paint my nails red.

-I’m thankful for an awesome weekend with an awesome friend, and an awesome bed to sleep it all off in for the next week.

-I’m thankful that I found my car keys. I’m not as thankful about the fact that I spent $20 on Ubers to and from work today due to the lost keys, but in some ways… that just makes ya more thankful, ya dig? (sometimes I wish this blog was like Facebook and I could ‘mute’ some content for Smoke and MamaG. Like this. I’m gonna hear about this, y’all)

-I’m thankful that, no matter what happens tomorrow, the election will be over. O-V-E-R. At this point, I don’t care if Kermit D. Frog moves into Pennsylvania Avenue in January, so long as people STOP CALLING AND TEXTING ME. (stay tuned tomorrow for a legit election harassment email from the family archives. I can’t tell you who wrote it, but… well, let’s just say I wish I could mute this part of this post, and tomorrow’s too…)

-I’m sure not going to get political or serious (the horror!), but I’m also thankful to live in a country where I can vote.

-Bevvy G For Prez, 2020

F.A.S.

Today, I am thankful for reaching waaaaaaay back into my arsenal of funny animal photos and posting an old favorite.

I’m also thankful that my girl, Edith, is here for the weekend. She loves Coors Light and MyTeam as much as I do, and we are currently drinking electrolyte water in preparation to go watch the game. Champagne and Coors Light on deck. Bless up!

-Bev

Bev’s Gratitude Journal

Well, we’ve reached the month of thankfulness, and I’d like to kick it off with a short post about some things for which I am grateful (GODDAMN I’m so Midwestern, and I REALLY want to say ‘things I am grateful for’… I digress). I’ll be periodically sharing some gratitude posts throughout the month, and I encourage you to share some things you appreciate in the comments.¹

Today, I am thankful that my mom doesn’t get to see how I load my dishwasher. #SorryMamaG #ButNotReally #JustThrowShitInThere

And for the toenail that survived a chair being dropped on it today (polish, not so much, but that’s getting fixed tomorrow).

And for Game 7. Hey, Chicago, whaddya say?

-Bev

¹Don’t worry. I won’t post this shit every day. Y’all don’t need the emails, I am probably too self-absorbed to come up with something for every day, and I plan on consuming an absolute shitload of alcohol this month.

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