Monday, April 15, 2013

Cry Me A River of Green Tea, Lattes, and Wine: Or, the World's Most Trivial Predicament, by Allison

So I think I may have just experienced the planet's most trivial, nonsensical, first world problem, "Oh, dear, I got Champagne on Mumsy's dress whatever shall I do," idiotic predicament.

Like, it is almost, almost too embarrassing and eye-rollingly not an actual predicament, but a series of Stupid Things I Do, Leading To A Mess.

But, since I am totally fine embarrassing myself, and those who saw me flash mob, or cry at movies or car dance, or have to deal with me in any way know that already. So I present:

Cry Me a River of Teas, Lattes, and Wine, A Saga, by Allison:

So today, after gym, violin, beverage acquirement, unloading, making spaghetti sauce (from scratch, take that Martha Stewart and her minions), finally yay I get to sit down and read this delicious book Z, on Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of F. Scott.
 I have been longtime huge fan of hers,  and she was so gifted and zesty and misunderstood, and am juicily into this book.

But one second after sitting, I hear what I think is either Superman, ninjas, or all the dreaded owls in the world crashing through an upstairs window.
It was SO loud.

I investigate, because no one in cape, ninja gear, or feathered eyeball eating flock of devil birds appears.

And it is grisly.
It is gross.
It is foul.
And it is all my fault.

I have allowed my deranged and irrational need for many, many forms of beverage to be available to me at all times to create World's Most Trivial Predicament.

I have overloaded our upstairs mini fridge
(Backstory: I had yuk oral surgery bleh this winter, and Matt is a saint and realized that would agitate my need for a variety of teas and Diet Cokes and other more potent beverages to be around, all the time, and me traipsing around post-surgery would lead to more surgery. So now mini fridge in the guest bath, temporarily, I am sure after this post he will remove it immediately. I hope not. I love it. It is my little friend  --  Until Now.)

So the little, previously charming fridge apparently swung itself open somehow, and a Venti Nonfat Latte, two Trenta (that is Big Gulp in Starbucks language) green teas, a Diet Coke, and a really awesome bottle of wine that I love and is not everyday wine but super special and I love it, have crashed, LOUDLY, onto the white subway tiles of our guest bath.

The splatter.
I cannot put it into words, other than, EWWWWWWW.
Also, because I have irrational need for many beverages at all times, there was a lot of liquid to splash in copious, messy ways, all over the white tiles, the painted walls, the CEILING, the white armoire-y furniture thing, everywhere.

The toile shower curtain looks like it was used to clean up after the first scene in the movie Trainspotting.
(Note: I apologize for such a gross description, as that Trainspotting scene is VILE, but it fits, and was all I was thinking as I stood, in horror, trying to figure out which pathetic mess to clean up first.)

Get this? None of my variety of liquid friends wants to mix and mingle.
Is like science experiment, they all ooze separately,
I know this because of how long I was on hands and knees or on ladder removing evidence of World's Most Trivial Predicament.

I don't think it is going to change my behavior pattern of carrying two giant teas wherever I go, or bringing absurd numbers of beverage items along if I am away from access a source for more than an hour.
2 go to the gym, 2 at violin, 3 or more for Girl Scouts, and you can ask Matt how much fun it is with me juggling spillables on car trips.

My reasoning is this:
What if I get thirsty?
What if I want something I don't have, and can't get it, and die?
Or need the wine?
Or the tea for the antioxidant infusion after the wine?

I have always been this way.

Used to be only Diet Coke, and I'd leave a can on the roof of my car, almost always, forgetting I put it there, but I had to have a supply.
Matt's brother drank the last Diet Coke once, and he is 6 foot 5, can handle just about anything, and he went running as fast as he could away from my deranged fury.

I justify it this way: There was a movie once, it was terrible, one of those by the Sixth Sense guy:
OOOH! Tangent Alert!

Tangent: I totally figured out the SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT fact that Bruce Willis was dead like, right away at the theater watching The Sixth Sense.
And I could not tell anybody, because that would be rude and mean, so I like, scribbled down on a piece of paper in my purse:
 "I figured out Bruce Willis is dead, he has the same outfit on this whole time. Same outfit. Totally dead. I am not ruining this for you guys, but I want credit for my Sherlock Holmes meets Anna Wintour skills of deduction here."

So when the reveal of him being dead was all "oooooooh" by the audience, I brandish my paper that in my crazy head is proof of what? I win? What do I win? I don't know, I won something, or thought I should.

Tangent over!
So the bad movie I'm talking about by the Sixth Sense guy had aliens in it?
Mean ones.
And the world was saved by the little girl leaving her glasses of water and drinks all over the place, it was referenced throughout the movie, how this girl was so weird and annoying with her many drinks everywhere.
I of course had no problem with her and her drinks, seems reasonable to me, what if she gets thirsty at the piano?
Or upstairs?
Or whatever?
AND,  the multitude of available beverages defeated the aliens and she won!

I use this as further justification for my abundance of beverages at all times issue:
I am fighting the aliens.

So you can imagine when the airline security rules changed years ago, after that awful lady tried to do bad things using a baby bottle, and for a period of times it was no liquids, ever at all ever ever,
I was alarmed for all of our safety, for the sad state of the world, for plain horror of it, and also, the restrictions were very, very restricting.
For good reason, and sorting out what bad stuff people can do with seemingly non-weapon weapons is a seriously stressful, hard, and important job, and gold stars to all of those people who do that.

We of course were traveling immediately after that rule was invoked, like 2 days later.
And everybody at the airport was totally wigging out and stressed and not sure how to implement the new rules.
And I am all for whatever security needs be. 
Seriously I know I am the worst, but I get it.
I realize the world was grappling with what horrible things could be done, how and travelers just need to suck it up.
I got that.
I was ok.
I was totally cool with coping with my insane anxiety over dehydration, I was planning to pretend to be a reasonable person.
Unfortunately,  I am also a total, complete idiot.

My trainer had advised me that Airborne tablets were good before you travel, for warding off airplane recycled germ petri dish environment.
Matt douses himself in Purell, not kidding, I think he pours it in his ears too, but I am not usually a germ freak.

Except, my trainer has this glow of health like she is permanently in a yogurt commercial, so I buy Airborne, and right before we are to get on the plane, I pop one in my mouth.

You aren't supposed to do that.

You are supposed to put it in water, it is fizzy, like Alka-Seltzer.

I would know this if I read the instructions, and yes, fine, this validates all of the people my entire life telling me to read the instructions.
I did not read them, and I chewed that tablet for half a nanosecond, before realizing I was foaming at the mouth.
With no water or liquid at my disposal.

I looked rabid.
I felt like the innocuous looking tablet was expanding, effervescing, whatever, exponentially. 
Both foamy and cement-like in texture.

It was both startling and alarming, and Matt laughing did not help.
He stopped laughing when it became clear that I was probably going to die by foaming at the mouth due to not reading the Airborne instructions.

That is an embarrassing way to go out.
I realized I needed some fake incidents written up for Matt, in case my idiocy and stubbornness leads to a totally preventable, stupidly stupid nonsense expiration of me.

At the time, though, we were kind of almost boarding the plane, and there was not a thing we could do.
And do you know how many people rush to help a foaming at the mouth, possibly rabid person?


I think we patted my mouth out with paper. Which is not very thirst quenching OR foam-absorbant.

That is why I am crazy beverage hoarder.

I never know when I may do something totally idiotic and need my green tea.  I have to be prepared.

So that is one tiny reason, well I guess two:
1. Fighting aliens
2. Remedy for ridiculous ingestion of fizzy vitamins that present symptoms similar to rabies.

I am not even reading up to see how many ways I just detailed one of my weird eccentricities.
(Charming quirks? Can I call it that instead?)

One of my Charming Quirks (I am making that a thing)  that led to me spending my afternoon NOT reading Zelda Fitzgerald book.
Spent scouring guest bath to remove latte, green tea, Diet Coke, wine fiesta of "really?????" instead.

It would have been way more fun if Zelda Fitzgerald were here to help.
I bet she'd totally get my Charming Quirk, and also teach me how to do pin curls and tell me scandalous stories about Paris in the Gilded Age, and then we'd do the Charleston.

But since that didn't happen due to pesky time/space continuum issues, I am on my own when I idiotically accidentally wreck stuff.

I really, really want an intern.