Beverly

sounds inocuous
really, though, is devil’s drink
crazy Italians!

The Coke museum was a success inasmuch as watching a 15 year old "high-definition" video on Coke Around World, looking at a bunch of old bottles and advertising paraphernalia, and taking pictures of French people on vacation can be. That sounds kind of snarky – I don’t mean it to. We really did have a fun time.

Especially fun is the tasting room – which I remember distinctly from my previous visit to the Coke museum (just before the Coke Around World video was produced. eek.).

In the tasting room you can try samples of everything from regular ol’ Coke to Sprite (but none of the new funky Sprites. hmph) to a myriad of Fantas. Then you get to go into the tasting room with Coke products from around the world. Here you can try Passion Fruit soda from New Guinea and Watermelon soda from China. You can try Ginger beer and mandarin orange drink and various lemon-lime concoctions.

The most exciting of them all, though, is the inocuous sounding Beverly. Hailing from Italy, Beverly is labeled as a "bitter aperitif". We should have known something exciting was about to happen when all of the security guards/cleaning people began huddling around us while we filled our cups with Beverly. My sister was the first victim sampler. She promptly spit her sample back into her cup and made a dog hacking up a chunk of his lunch noise.

We all took three steps back from the Beverly dispenser.

Not to be outdone by my sister, I, too, sampled the Beverly. Jesusmaryjosephandthecamel. It starts off OK – a little sweet, maybe fruity… and then it finishes with the taste of thousands of crushed up imodium AD caplets. When the label says bitter, folks, it ain’t joking. Even chugging several cups of Passion Fruit soda afterward could hardly dull the bitter-induced heaves and hurls my tongue was experiencing.

Plainly, Beverly is nasty.

But it was great fun to try.

Rawr

zit instigator
tiny, sweaty palms cup face
imprison my pores

I have just spent the last hour and half trying to help the wee one fall asleep. He is perfectly capable of falling asleep on his own. His daddy only has to give him a sideways look and the wee one drifts peacefully off to sleep.

Not with me, though.

With me, I am imprisoned by a sweaty head on top of my own head; a small hand manipulating my earlobe as if it were a worry bead; a foot cast sidelong over my belly; an arm draped over my ear.

I get baleful stares and weeping.

And then, when he finally drifts off to sleep, I get an hour to myself before I, too, have to go to bed. Which is an air mattress right next to his spiderman air mattress. So he wakes up and snuggles into bed with me. And that’s nice for about ten minutes. Then the kicking starts. And the earlobe pulling. And the perpendicular sleeping. And then it’s 7 am and he’s awake – ready for another day of jumping off walls and singing the Star Wars song and asking me for the EIGHT FRILLIONTH TIME if Boba Fett is a bad guy.

I think. It’s time. To go home.

Or maybe the wee one can go home and I can stay here all alone. In solitude. With only my ipod, an Ikea catalog, and a box of Little Debbie brownies to keep me company.

news from the road

pro-sugar studies
who financed these lying things?
not mamas, that’s who

Years ago someone did a study that said sugar and hyper-activity have nothing to do with each other. These are not people who have seen what happens to the wee one after he’s had half a bag of sour gummy worms and a cupcake. I’d laugh, but when you see your three-year-old scuttling across the ceiling with Exorcist head-spinning and a laugh that deafens dolphins, well, I’d really rather lock him in a padded room and let him handle the sugar crash all alone. And then maybe laugh. Quietly to myself. In a crying kind of way.

Note to relatives: If you value your sanity, my sanity, and the wee one’s life that I hold in my shaking NO LONGER PATIENT hands, then please do not give the wee one sugar. Unless YOU want to be the one he body slams every three and a half seconds even though it’s 11:30pm and every other sane person and child is happily sleeping.

Other than that, it’s a lovely visit. My grandma seems to be feeling better, and she is quite happy to see all of us – even the Insane Beast Formerly Known As The Wee One.

Whew.

lazy? busy.

eastern time zone lag
I am not compatible
with television

Just a quick post – I’m in GA with the wee one, checking in on my grandmother (she’s doing better!) and spending most of my time either eating or driving back and forth from the hospital.

I did manage to watch the Martha Stewart Apprentice show. And I also managed to give ten observations on said show over at the curlyharedTVdork blog. Just in case to want to see them.

Oh, man. I am so tired. So incredibly tired. Having to get up at 3:30 am to go the airport, and then having to walk all the way from Terminal D to baggage claim because the airport trains are broken makes me very tired. And that happened days ago. I’m still trying to recover. So I have to go to bed early. And miss TV. Wah.

two-timing

an experiment
is haikuoftheday mad?
must go buy flowers

Former Boss Who Shall Not Be Named is trying to lure me into pretend fame and no fortune by getting me to blog as a "citizen journalist" for the Austin American Statesman. Because I am easily sucked into such flattery, I agreed. I also agreed because it was made clear that I can share posts from this blog and thus my finite amount of creativity won’t be whittled down to nothing (which is what has pretty much already happened THANK YOU VERY MUCH you godforsaken evil-hearted DragonTales that I am forced to watch everyday).

Anyway, if you want to read my not very specific diatribes about television that have been deemed too risque to get me past the Statesman censors, you can go take a look at CurlyHairedTVDork. There are only two posts right now. One is the Emmy’s liveblog you can enjoy below. The other is a "review" of some new TV shows.

Let me know what you think. I don’t know if I’m going to keep doing it or not. Though I guess I can review TV shows over here and then post them over there, or vice versa.

This is SO not what I should be worrying about now.

Mudder

don’t piss her off, doc

she has superhuman strength

that will freak you out

My grandma is sick. Pretty bad off sick from what I can tell. There’s like, a prayer chain or something.

Apparently, though, her illness has not diminished her scrappiness. In fact, because of the steroids they’re pumping her full of, she’s not just scrappy, she’s full on Mexican wrestler pissed off. She managed to physically fight off three teams of nurses who’ve tried to give her a feeding tube. And the doctor has asked the family to please stop visiting her, as our rag tag group of non-stop talkers makes her blood pressure skyrocket.

This admonishment hasn’t dissuaded me and my sister, though. We’ve booked our flight and are heading out to see her on Friday. If anything, maybe the sight of her far flung Texas granddaughters will stun her long enough to allow the nurses to get the feeding tube in.

The wee one is coming along for the adventure, though I’m not bringing him to the hospital. He’ll have grandparents and cousins and a million other folks to play with – he doesn’t need to be traumatized by tubes and masks and whatnot. Plus, I don’t the hospital lets little kiddos into the ICU.

Anyway, I would buy Mudder a Mexican wrestler mask if she would get the joke. But I don’t think she will. And she might start whacking me over the head with it anyway, given the stories I’ve been hearing about her "scrappiness" of late. She probably wants a baby-sized Corona and some Chicken in a Biscuit crackers.

I’ll see what I can do.