Bevvy G

You know you’ve been on a pretty wild eating and drinking spree when you go to lunch and order a Diet Coke instead of a Coors Light, and you basically feel like the world’s healthiest person. Because Diet Coke is obviously very healthy. I even had a side salad. A side salad that I accidentally dipped in horseradish sauce for my prime rib sandwich. That’ll wake ya up. #ThatsNotBlueCheese #ThatsWhatSheSaid

My birthday was an awesome day, as expected. It started out responsibly with a few workouts and a haircut, and ended with a fourteen-minute FaceTime conversation (which I don’t remember) with my college friend, Chanice. 

So today, after another hair appointment, I just couldn’t decide if I wanted to go out to happy hour, or come home and take a nap. It was a serious dilemma the entire time I was sitting (and trying not to fall asleep) under the lamps at the salon, and I finally decided to combine the two. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you:

Nappy Hour

Yes, that’s my blanket. And, there’s a ‘Snapped’ marathon on. Good call, Beverly. Good call.

In other news, I thought you all might be amused by the fact that, apparently, MamaG thinks I’m a six-year-old, because she labeled my birthday gift not once, but twice, instructing me as to when I had permission to open it.

Outer packaging.

She wraps the package inside the package. Because, of course she does.

To be fair to MamaG, I have, in the past, opened my birthday gifts early. These instances are usually when I am planning to leave on a trip, and I wonder if maybe there’s an article of clothing inside that I may want to wear on the trip. For example, last year, I opened my gift before I left for New Orleans, thinking maybe MamaG threw in a good boob-enhancing Bourbon Street shirt.

But it was a towel and a frying pan.

Because this is #TheThirties

Party on, y’all.

-Bev

Well, spring break kicked off the way we knew it would (me, getting wasted Saturday night and Sunday, potentially losing a pair of gold hoops [they’ll turn up- they always do], calling waiters hipsters/Mr. Delacroix from ‘Green Mile’ repeatedly, etc.)

Today, however, threw a little wrench in my plans, as I walked out to my car to go have lunch with my girl, Jill, and the car wouldn’t start. Jill picks me up for lunch, and we try (unsuccessfully) to jump the car. It’s unclear to Jill and me if the jump doesn’t work because a) that’s not the problem with the car, or b) we don’t know what the hell we’re doing.

We decide to hit up lunch while we devise some plans over margaritas. On the way there, I confirm with my insurance company that my policy covers roadside assistance if I need a tow (good news), and throughout lunch, try to con any of my guy friends into coming over to change a battery. They are all mysteriously very busy/unavailable.

Jill and I finally decide that we are going to buy a new battery, and change it via YouTube videos (and most likely, Smoke Goldenstein on FaceTime). On the way back from lunch, we swing into an O’Reilly Auto Parts store, and chat with a blond behind the counter who is built like a brick shithouse. She basically tells me to go get my battery and bring it in so we can test it, so we are sure that’s the issue. This prompts me to ask her if would need to wear gloves, as the battery looked a little corroded, and I didn’t wan to ‘burn my face off’. She repeatedly told me that wearing gloves depends on how ‘fancy’ you are, and that she does it without gloves.

Challenge accepted, Fancy.

Jill and I head home, and do what any self-respecting American women would do: pour two glasses of rosé and head out to the car with Bev’s toolkit. Within 60 seconds, it’s painfully clear that Jill and I are not getting this battery out or putting another one in. We decide to (attempt to) jump the car again. (‘How to Jump Start a Car for Dummies’ is still like a foreign goddamn language if anyone is wondering). As we’re sitting there on the street, several people roll by and offer zero help (one dude had the audacity to, like, smile and wave as he walked by with his dog. I would’ve kicked his ass, but I’m probably too fancy). Finally, someone in a big ol’ Chevy truck slows down, and a sweet girl in the passenger seat asks if we need help. “YES,” Jill and I desperately cry, while scrambling to hide our rosé. This girl’s dad is wearing a camo hat and and driving the king cab truck. I knew this was a good thing.

To make a long story short, the man was able to start my car with the jump from Jill’s car, and he’s definitely the girl’s boyfriend, not dad. Maybe creepy, but we really didn’t care at that point. If you’re reading this, Gordy and Crystal, thank you again for your help. And how old are you? (For the record, we don’t know their names, but Jill and I are confident that they are Gordy and Crystal)

At this point, Jill had to leave to go pick up her kids, and I had to go back to find Fancy to see if she could replace my battery (without gloves, of course). I head back to ol’ O’Reilly, but Fancy’s nowhere to be found. Agustin happened to be my man of the hour, and things were going very well at first. Yes, they had the correct battery for my make/model car. Yes, Agustin could install it for me. Yes, Bev has an account at O’Reilly Auto Parts, which will keep track of the warranty on the battery. No, the alternator and starter aren’t damaged, and the problem is solely the battery. OK, not too horrible, I guess.

Until Agustin tried to put the battery in. I really don’t know what that entails, but it seems pretty simple (based on Jill’s and my YouTube tutorials). It took about four times longer than expected, and I think Agustin lost twelve pounds worth of sweat in the process. He was definitely swearing at me under his breath, I really wanted to go into the store to find Fancy, and at one point Agustin stood up to stretch and muttered, “I can’t feel my legs.” Like, I’m not sure what he wanted me to do with that, so I just looked at him. There was also a brief second where I considered starting the car while he was under there, and just putting the poor bastard out of his misery. But then I realized tomorrow’s my birthday, and I’m taking myself out to a steak lunch… and if I ‘accidentally’ killed Agustin, I’d probably be eating government cheese for my birthday lunch.

To make a long story short, Agustin finally got the battery in correctly, and I drove home, where I will be spending the rest of the night on my couch with Homeland DVDs.

Here’s hoping this is the Spring Break 2016 low point. And that Agustin’s sweat hasn’t started corroding my brand new car battery.

-Bev

I’ve also been singing this since I met Fancy. Obviously.

Last Easter, I made Jesus proud.

I plan to outdo myself this year.

Headed to brunch in my second day makeup, like all good Christians do.

-Bev

OK, we’ve come to the conclusion of #SSS, but I saved one gold mine for you all…

I’d like to clarify that Aunt Sue is definitely not stoned. She had been to a Rolling Stones concert, and Uncle Bart thinks he’s a comedian.

Can’t wait for these guys’ next vaca, can ya?

-Bev

“Non-essential travel is not advised.”

Brow appointments and booze runs are definitely essential travel.

-Beverly Goldenstein

She’s baaaaaaaaaack.

Again, if this isn’t funny to you, just imagine one of your aunts on vacation while your uncle just takes unauthorized pictures of her all day. It’s hilarious.

-Bev

Quick Bev Updates:

I spent Saturday Ubering to and from a first birthday party, because I am the most responsible irresponsible person you know.

Cody is alive and well! I found him at the shop near my hosue where he works, and he’s just killin’ it (as usual), and the car should be back soon! Praise be to God. (Come to think of it, I’m not sure if I ever updated you all that Cody had gone missing. I thought for sure that he [and my favorite car] died. I am so glad to disprove my own theory)

I just ordered $50 worth of self tanner and sunscreen. Seriously, so responsible right now. #SkinCare #FreeShipping #BananaBoatSummerColorYouAreMyJam #BasicWhiteGirl #NowStopLayingOut

I think I might just have to be, like, a Taylor Swift fan. I hate that little CUNextTuesday, but I often hear songs I like, and then discover her little fox face is behind it. I’m far from proud, but I don’t know how much longer I can deny it… Halp.

-Bev

P.S.- So sorry I missed #SpotSueSaturday…mostly because Sue’s daughter, Bessie, was in MyCity for a hot minute and we were hanging out, and well… then I got drunk at a first birthday party, so it just wasn’t in the cards. The Sue trilogy will come to a close this Saturday. (probably)