Where Am I?, NM

Bianca-

White flags of surrender from the middle of nowhere! Literally, B, I'm in a place with no cell phone towers somewhere between the largest nuclear bomb plant in the world (seriously, the atom bomb was developed in these here hills), Sante Fe, and a city name I've never been able to spell (think large city in New Mexico that starts with an A).

Though I'm almost completely secluded from the world, luckily, Algebra's family has wi-fi. Oh, did I mention I'm with Algebra in New Mexico on a little vacay? Yep! I'm vacationing with the boyfriend for the next week or so. We're hitting all the New Mexico hot spots (before his mom moves back to civilization and cell phone towers) and then my favorite city (third to San Diego and Sydney), DENVER!

We're flying to Denver on Friday to spend some time with my fav cousin, her husband The Australian and Algebra's wild and crazy recent college grad cousins. Between an Aussie and two recent grads, I hope I can keep up (booze and sleep deprivation wise).

In any event, don't tell anyone, but I'm half liking the no cell service. It's kind of like our no cell phone nights in Vegas. Truly care free and in the moment, but as soon as I'm in wi-fi range, I'm plugged in and waiting for people to respond to my texts.

New Mexico is stunning. I thought it'd be a lot like the drive between Utah and Vegas, but no! I'm at the mouth of a National Forest! Wow! So pretty! We've been running to hiking trails, springs and until our lungs burn (which is about a block). The elevation here is close to 7,000 and dude, I'm feeling it.

In other awesome news, Algebra's mom whipped out the old photos... ha! Let's just say that my bearded, tan devoid boyfriend has not always been so low maintenance. I have photographic evidence that he used to have a serious bromance with himself, use more hair gel than necessary for any human, and was channelling Ben Affleck (seriously, I did a double take). HILARIOUS! Can you say puka shell necklace?

Today, Algebra and I are going on a romantic getaway to a quaint cabin belonging to his family that sleeps around 20. (Can it be called a cabin at that point?) Then we're heading to Taos, which I hear is like New Mexico's equivalent to Park City. I've also heard that Julia Roberts and Donald Bumsfeld live up there and a few other choice celebs. I think Julia and I would make really great bff's.

Cell phone leaving, high elevation climbing and giant bug spotting,
Bridget

Beardtramony

Good afternoon!

Happy almost 4th of July weekend! Also, happy detox week. I can't believe how hard we partied in Vegas. My liver hurts. But it was incredible as usual and I can't wait to go back. I'm loving that QDW nabbed herself a hot Aussie. I'm going to live vicariously through her on that one.
Vacation Bests: Encore pool party, being the only white girls in the dance circle, hookah, moon tans.
Vacation Worsts: $17 cocktails, death heels, week long hangover that I'm still experiencing.

I just got the text about your agenda today. Did I mention that I hate you? Beause I hate you. You = at home watching the Snapped (my favorite show ever) marathon while packing for a fabulous two week romantic getaway. Me = working on deadline. I'm quitting my job so I can shape young minds as a 4th grade teacher. But mostly quitting my job so I can sit on my couch and watch Snapped marathons all summer. I talked to my mom this morning and, weird, she's watching TV marathons too (of the Weeds variety). She's really milking this hip-replacement surgery for all it's worth. I did her online shopping for her today while my brother ran all of her errands. At least she's smart enough not to feel sorry for herself, she's loving this.

Are you excited for the wedding this weekend? I actually can't believe you're going. Not only were you un-bridesmaided, but she's marrying a closet gay (if you can call it closet, he wears boas and his name is literally an anagram for Gayer). And on top of all that dysfunction, she's getting married on July 4th weekend and sent out an email detailing what wedding guests should wear... down to the color. Can you say, Bridezilla? I have debated whether or not to go, but I'm a firm believer that if I don't get a real invitation in the mail, I have no obligation to buy you a gift and attend your beardtramony.

Snowball is having an interview at doggie day care today. All of the doggies were so excited to see their new friend, but no, not Snowball. He wanted nothing to do with those heathens. I raised a selfish little mamas boy. If that snuggly little bastard doesn't pass, this girl will be celebrating 4th of July weekend alone at home while the rest of her friends and family get day drunk while riding beach cruisers in paradise. (I exaggerate. But it will feel that way when I'm at home with Snowball watching Snapped marathons.)

Sunshine, popsicles and closet gays,

Bianca.

Vegas Bound

BIANCA!!

Happy Thursday! (? is it Thursday today?) to you and Saturday to me (or Sunday, which ever you prefer). Being on summer break from the kiddies definitely has its perks, the best one being I get to pretend every day is Saturday or Sunday. Downfall? I don't know if you can call it that, but I find myself NEVER knowing what day it is. Even though I pop in now and then to help out with summer school, this is a much needed break. I actually find myself missing my students (which is a sharp contrast to cursing their existence).

How did Preston enjoy your sex-ay outfit the other night. I've heard of nerd-chic... but what was that? Dork-freak? I'm going to need an update on all of this... maybe I'll just text Preston to see how he is enjoying your new, health inspired garb. (Note: Granny panties do nothing for your health, upgrade B! Upgrade!)

I can't believe how lucky we are! All expense trip to VEGAS! paid for by our ever loving parentals... Who knew all we had to do was run 200 miles through the Wasatch Mountains for them to front the bill?! I wonder if we'll actually do it again next year. Consider doing it for another trip? Likely. Consider doing it for another GIANT medal that doubles as a bottle opener? Hell to the yes! (Dork Alert: The moment I realized our medal has a bottle opening feature was the moment I blocked out Ragnar weekend in June again next year... why is this so cool to me?)

Oh! And B, I have your medal. Unless this extra Ragnar Medal isn't yours, and then it's going in my kitchen drawer. "Corona, anyone? Well, let me just pull out this huge, orange, awesome, thing to open if for you. What? This ol' thing? Just something I picked up running through the motherflipping mountains. The strap? It's made out of my tears and the tears of my teammates. It's magical."

Really fast: Who the eff are we right now? We've always been vacationistas, carryonistas, what have you, but runnistas? That's not even that fun to say. When did we become these crazy [half] marathon running freaks? I guess everyone was right. Running is addicting. (Which is why we're signed up for 3 more this year).

So stoked for Vegas this weekend. I need to (over)pack. Are we carrying on or checking bags? Since we're getting in late it might be smart to carry on. I'm constantly amazed at how much we can fit in our bags and still meet FAA Guidelines. We've got carrying on down to an art form.

I feel like I never get to see you these days. Thank goodness we have email.

See you on the plane,
Bridget

Epitome of Sex

Good Morning!

Happy Tuesday to you, Monday to me. I took a well deserved sick day yesterday. The combination of being sore from our 200 mile relay race and accidentally taking two caffiene pills really screwed up my Monday morning. I need to not keep all of my supplements in the same bottle. My Milk Thistle looks too much like my Zainy Brainy caffiene pills (literally, that's what they're called). I don't usually take caffiene pills but I bought them thinking that I might need them for when I had to run 8 miles at two in the morning. I didn't need them then and definitely didn't need them in the morning at my desk before breakfast.

How are you feeling? I'm still sore, but feeling OK. Icy Hot and Yoga Toes (what I like to call happy feet) have become my new best friends. They relieve your toes after you've squished them in high heels or running shoes. I'm wearing them right now and my feet are feeling happy. They're also great for the sex life. There's nothing sexier than when I wear my posture brace while elevating my feet with my yoga toes. If Preston is really lucky, I might even surprise him with a pair of granny panties.

Epitome of sex:


I'm seriously looking forward to our fabulous weekend in Vegas. As much fun as I've had running, I'm ready to ditch the ol tennis shoes and look glamorous again in heels. Not to mention our incredibly generous parents are paying for the whole weekend and we're not staying at the Excalibur! (90% of trips to Vegas that are paid for by parents I end up at the Excalibur via 5 hour road trip). But not this time. Our fabulous selves are staying at a suite at the Paris and flying first class. I mean this in no way rhetorical: How the hell did we pull this off? I can't afford to buy new threads for the trip so I appreciate in advance the use of your closet. Thank you.

Can we talk about John Travolta and Kelly Preston's pregnancy for a minute? Scientologists believe that women can fight menopause... This is a pretty good case for them. Although is anybody taking bets on possible birth defects? What if the Scientologists were right all along? When we die it's like, "Wait a minute, you're not St. Peter..."

Viva Us,

Bianca.

Ragnar Running = Vegas Victory

B B B Bianca (sometimes, even after all these years I type Binaca... Ha!),

I'd like to say that's it's good to be back home from vacation, but, I'd really prefer to just stay in San Diego (not that I have ANY room to complain as I'm emailing poolside with a cocktail and SPF within arm's reach). When you move to San Diego you might want to get a place with an extra bedroom so I can come visit weekly (heck, we almost go there weekly as it is)!

This particular SD trip was incredible. Your family is always so generous and accomodating. Papa Vanderstappen had his house perfectly ready for two carb loading (and then recovering) half marathon runners! Bianca, we did it!! We finished the half marathon and beat our goal times!! I'm so proud of us! I feel like an athlete again! And now all we have to do is run our legs in the Wasatch Back Ragnar this weekend and relax poolside. We totally can do it! Woot!


I have some concerns when it comes to running Ragnar. They are as follows:
-Where do I change clothes?
-How do I unstinkify?
-Where do I pee? Should I pack toilet paper? (EW!)
-How do I stay up all night and/or run on little to no sleep?
-How do you roll and unroll a sleeping bag?
-Will there be blow dryers available along the course?
-Where's my mommy?
-Are we there yet?

I'm glad we went to one of Salt Lake Running Company's lectures on Ragnar, the pack list definitely helped. And when I went back in (for a third time) yesterday the cute sales boy just told me to relax and have fun! "Ragnar's a big party," he says, "Just run your legs and smile." Although, I'm adding one extra thing to the packing list, my best friend Jack Daniels, he always brings the party.

My motivation started effing with me on the half marathon, so I was a little worried about Ragnar, but then I remembered... If we finish.. We have an incredible FREE! trip to Vegas waiting for us at the finish line courtesy of our awesome parents! What do you call that again? Oh yes, a win!

Enjoying summer vacation (and totally appreciating my teeny paycheck that makes this all possible),

Bridget

*Wasatch Back Ragnar=Bat sh*t crazy relay race from Logan to Park City that an old sorority buddy convinced us to do. See the map. Question our sanity, much?

Carryonistas!

Dear Bridget,
 
I can't believe we are flying to San Diego tomorrow for the half marathon! I checked out the route map for the race, and it is almost all downhill. Not only will it feel incredible to be running at sea level after training at mountain level, but it's DOWNHILL. The running gods are shining down upon us. Also, Carb-loading is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Cheese danish? Why yes, don't mind if I do!
 
I apologize for all of the exclamation points and adverbs this morning, I'm just so unbelievably! incredibly! outrageously! excited for a weekend in sunny San Diego. I'm homesick, beach sick, and definitely sick of work and Utah, so I feel entitled to my annoying grammar. Not to mention, I need you to know how excited I am, and periods just don't cut it (!).
 
SLCinNYC has been calling me all morning. I understand that you and I travel more (way more) than the average twenty something, but she's killing me here. She has never, did I mention NEVER, traveled with a carry on before. She checks her bag every single time she flies. It's 25 flippin' dollars each way! I'm forcing her to carry on. She never wears heels in NY but is worried that we're going to be invited to some fabulous function where she'll need them. She is afraid she's going to break out if she doesn't bring every ounce of skincare and her full bottles of shampoo and conditoner. (Yes, I realize hair and skin are seperate entities. She does not.) I think she forgets that she is traveling to beach town with west-coasters. If she has a sundress and a pair of flip flops she'll be just fine. Anyway, she wanted me to tell you to make sure and over pack, just in case.
 
I can't believe we haven't seen each other in over a week, this never happens. We have so much to catch up on like your pool day, DW Drama, and most importantly... The. Official. Relationship. (please say aloud with the same inflection as, Orange Mocha Frappucino!) Facebook Status Update! Congratulations. The icon of that little pink heart that popped up on my newsfeed just made my day. You and Mr. Algebra are quite the handsome couple (I never understood that saying). But if any couple is handsome, it's you two. Your Dad even commented with a "woo-hoo!", life is good.  
 
My golf weekend with Preston's family was nice and relaxing. We hung by the pool, drank cocktails all day and oh yeah, golfed (if you can call it that). I'm horrible. Need I remind you of the comment Preston's mom made years back when we first met? "A family that golfs together stays together". If that's the case, my family is going to fall apart and she knows it. I'm just hoping QDW hits it off this weekend with golf-pro guy. If she doesn't screw it up, I'm swooping in (not on him, on free golf lessons). I want my future family to stay together, so I better start practicing. It turns out it takes more than a cute outfit and pink balls to golf well.
 
Well my friend, I will see you tomorrow night in beautiful, wonderful, sunny, breezy, stress-free SAN DIEGO! And in case I haven't said it enough this week, HAPPY END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR!!
 
 
Your carb-lovin carry-onner,
 
Bianca.

The Code

Beeee-anca!

Welcome home (again) from a trip without me! This whole you vacationing with Preston more than you vacation with me is a bit concerning and it better change right meow! OH WAIT! IT IS!! We leave for America’s Finest City (no, not Provo, crackhead, SAN DIEGO!) on Friday and have a Vegas trip three weeks later! What’s that called again? Oh yeah, a WIN! And that race we have to run on Sunday? Half marathon, much? I’m actually excited and amped for it! YAY!

Though you were gone, the sun was out and we were even able to have a little pool time at the Bridget Family Pool! Ah, happiness. I’m so excited for our pool par-tay in a few weeks. It’s going to be a luau to remember! Also, Algebra and I changed our facebook status to “in a relationship” (huge, embarrassing step). After six months of dating (okay, five and two weeks) we figured it was time to admit it and call it official on the most official place on the internet.

QDW went for the World Record for number of dates one person can have in a three day weekend and seemed happy enough (there’s nothing I love more than happy QDW, it makes my life way more enjoyable). Though, one of her dates happens to be the love of a fellow DW. Thus, the subject line of this email:  What is “the code” when it comes to our best girlfriends and their past loves (whether it be in their dreams, or not)?

Though this man of mystery never actually dated, slept with or was even interested in the sometimes “Karen” (thank you, Dane Cook) of our group, he has been the love of her life since toddler-hood. And unfortunately, blew her off hard core in just the fall.

Spring rolls around: Enter QDW. QDW and this boy hit it off rather well. After the first encounter they both say it’s just friends, then they’re casually texting (all the time, blech), then hang out, possible date and then BOOM! I wake up to yell at QDW to go swimming and find our questionable man in her bed (very embarrassing for me – you should have seen the shades of red I turned – oops!).

Soooo… they discussed they shouldn’t tell DWKaren until they kiss and now that that’s happened, DWKaren is still clueless. There’s been a lot of discussion among the DW’s as to what is “the code” for this situation. Do you tell and possibly piss off or upset a friend for possibly nothing? (i.e.: what if they never see each other again?) OR Do you not tell and live with the fact that you are lying to a friend? (i.e.: they see each other a few more times or down the road after he proposes?)

{Sigh}. I don’t know where I stand. The only advice I can give is, “What would you want to know if you were her?” And the only answer I can come up with is, “I WOULDN’T WANT YOU TO DO IT IN THE FIRST PLACE, BETCH!” I mean, if I had the opportunity to hook up with George Clooney, I would turn him down right away, or at least call you first! And I hope you’d do the same for me if you and Eric Bana had a chance encounter.  I know, DWKaren can’t have dibs on the whole world, but isn’t the love of your life (real or otherwise) the ultimate dibs?!

Meh. I give up. The DW’s are on their own on this one. I’m absolving myself from any responsibility and will have an available shoulder (or two) waiting for my bestest of friends should it all crumble around them.

Ready for Sun, Swimming and Sprinting away in SD,

Bridgeto

Have a great Wednesday!!

Sex and the Mommy

Bridget,
 
It is 70 degrees outside right now, and it snowed yesterday. Not only did it snow yesterday, but it stuck to the roads. What is going on in the motherwarming world!? Help us, Al Gore, help us all.
 
In totally awesome omfg news, SLCinNYC went to the NY premiere of Sex and the City last night. She said it's better than the first and couldn't believe it, but the most loveable character is Miranda! In foursomes accross the country, girls are fighting over who has to be the Miranda. Everybody wants to be the Carrie, of course, and nobody will admit to being the Samantha (although every group of friends has one), but nobody wants to be the Miranda. She's a work-a-holic who's outfits are lackluster at best. And she was mean to Steve, the sweetest fictional man alive. Real life Miranda, Cynthia Nixon, had an interview with Matt Lauer this morning and they showed a clip where she hates her job at the law firm and might quit. Miranda the stay-at-home-mom? I can't wait to see this movie...
 
I've come to the realization that my mom might be a Samantha. In the short five days she's been in town from San Diego, I've heard comments such as, "Some men just need Viagra, trust me"... and "That guy can dance, you know what that means." "Yeah, mom I know what..." "He's good in the sack"... "Ok, well that was one of those things that was implied, but good to know it's on your mind". In her menopausal years she's really become comfortable with her sexuality and isn't afraid to express it or use it against me at any time. If I sass her, instead of getting mad at me or sassing me back, she just says something sexually embarrassing in front of strangers. It's unconventional, yet surprisingly effective. My mother is a doctor's wife. A country clubbing, tennis playing, couture wearer, yet the most inappropriate woman I know. And she raised a Charlotte. Who knew?!
 
I can't wait to see SATC on Thursday. We have 12 tickets... Our friends are so obnoxious it's going to be incredible. I've prepared enough cosmo so we can all have our own flask full of pink inebriated goodness. In the meantime, I'm making a sex tape. Kendra of The Girls Next Door likeness has two sex tapes being released this week. She's already made over $500K, and will collect on half of the profits (not to mention more reality shows and fame). While shocking that a sex tape guarantees fame (need I mention Kim Kardashian, the household name and idol of young girls everywhere), I am not above it. Ok, maybe I'm above it, but it's still amazing. Although there is a video camera on my new iPod...
 
I hope you're enjoying this beautiful sunny day. I can't wait for Memorial Day, our marathon, and most importantly, the opening of the Bridget family pool! Utah, in Summer you're not so bad. In fact, I love you.
 
Hugs, Kisses and Cosmos,
 
Bianca.

Empathetic Civilization Dreamin'

Good Thursday Morning, Bianca!

How are you today? Has your quarter life crisis passed yet? I feel like I have a quarter life crisis about once every two weeks these days. 

While your email got me thinking and threw me into my second quarter life crisis of the week, it also reassured me! It’s nice to know that at least one other person is in the same place. And guess what, B? I assume there are a lot of other twenty-somethings trapped in the same lost place.

It’s really hard to reach a goal, when you don’t have one. I feel like my whole life was geared toward college (my over supportive parent story is very similar to yours, but I’m an only child, so I assume mine is worse. I mean, I've literally said, “I’m good at pretty much everything I try” and believed it.). But, I have been graduated from college for two years now. I’m wrapping up my second year of “shaping young minds” on the west side of our fair city. I’m starting graduate school in the fall. By all other accounts I have my life together. I have a career.

You’d think I know what I want to “do” with my life, but Bianca, I have no idea what I want to do, I don’t know what I want to BE.
I get comments all the time from people, “It must be so nice to have a career.” “I can’t believe you finished school so early and are already settled in a career.” WHAT? Teaching is my career? And settled? Does that mean I’m settling? I can’t do this forever. I don’t want to do this forever. There’s no way. I LOVE IT. I love my job, don’t get me wrong, but to me, it’s just that.  It’s a job. And this job is mentally and physically exhausting. I don’t get to talk to adults all day unless it’s our very limited email. I hear stories from students about poverty and abuse and have the pleasure of meeting crackhead parents. I’m sorry, but, I can’t do this forever.
And when my head stops spinning madly as I try and explain this to people, I get the question of doom. “Okay, then what do you want to do?” The ugly step sister of, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I’d like the quote a line from my favorite musical, A Chorus Line and say, “Young.”

But really, the best answer I can come up with is: I’d like to be a stay at home mom without kids. Did I just admit that?
Education is truly where my passion lies and in a perfect world, where I could change underprivileged kids' future and shape their over worked and/or drugged out parents into perfect beings who care about education as much as I do, this is where I’d stay. But unfortunately I know that is far from reality. Reality is, soon, I’m going to be burnt out.

So… where do I go from there? (Note: this is not a rhetorical question; I’d really like you to tell me where to go.)

{Sigh.} After my ramblings, I hope I have given you at least the comfort to know that, hey, I’m right there with ya!
Like I have said a million times, Bianca, it’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay! We have both had what we thought were “life ending” problems and we have always managed to survive (barely) unscathed.

We’ll get there, B… wherever there is. (I’d like to think “there” is a tropical island with endless beaches and no responsibilities.)
In any event (I’m trying to end this email with a positive spin), wouldn’t it be nice if the video below had it right? How cool would it be to live in an “Empathetic Civilization?” But would it mean “Republican Free?” I can see this theory sending all our favorite conservatives right into a tail spin. Hee hee!



Empathetic and lost,

Bridget

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

Oh girlfriend,
 
I'm having another quarter-life crisis. This happens every couple of months (or days depending on who you ask). It all started when I was talking to my adorable 8-year-old neighbor. (She can't say her r's, it's the cutest thing in the wowld). She brought me over a friendship bracelet and we got to talking. She's nervous about starting the third grade. I told her not to worry but my advice didn't help her much. She doesn't want to be an adult, she just wants to be a kid forever. I told her I know how she feels. Then she asked me the question. The question that brings me stress every time I hear it, What do you want to be when you grow up? I'm twenty something years old. Shouldn't I know the answer to this by now? Shouldn't I be on my way to that goal, or at least in the general direction? Sure I love my job, but is this what I want to "be"? No! But if not this, than what?  
 
I think our generation was screwed over by our doting parents. I was told my whole life that I was the most talented, atheltic, smart and beautiful girl out there. I don't know if you know this about me, but I was the most wonderful kid in the whole world. Thanks Mom and Dad, but unfortunately you were wrong. Sure, I'm wonderful, but there are a lot of wonderful god damn kids out there, trust me. They're the ones halfway through medical school while I dream about what I want to be when I grow up. Maybe had my parents gone with the notion that I'm the best Bianca instead of the best kid ever, I might've been more prepared for disappointment. Or at least have an answer for that pesky question.
 
When are we "grown up"? I know that I'm technically an adult, but it sure doesn't feel that way. I'm still on my mom's cell phone plan. I'm not a girl, not yet a woman. In the mean time, I'm going to ponder how to afford $50,000 for grad school while I come up with a title for my NY Times best selling novel. Or the content for said novel, potato potato (that saying doesn't really translate when written).
 
In news from reality, even though you have shin splints and are miserable, I'm so excited for our half marathon in San Diego in 2.5 weeks! I'm excited to get out of town and away from the DWs who are on husband search 2010. Not to mention the beach and my family who I have been missing terribly as of late. SLC in NYC + B&B* = Happiness.
 
Love, dress-up, and playing pretend,
 
Bianca.
 
*B&B : Bed and Breakfast, but in this context, Bridget and Bianca.

Shin Splints, Vegas Memories and San Diego Dreams

Dearest Bianca,
 
Your resume blunder about your (not so) fluentness in Spanish is my absolute favorite. You know Spanish quite well and could hold a conversation with any Spanish speaker (I'm quite confident in your skills), but when it comes to translating written Spanish, you're about as awesome as the rest of us at using Google Translator. 
 
But your Spanish skills are not the reason why I love that story so much... it's because it reminds me of our famous 12 hour trip to Vegas and our fluent French abilities. Bianca, for 12 hours we were French and had everyone believing that we knew not one word of English (accept, of course, bodka!, taxi?, and taken advantage of). How did we get so awesome? I miss that trip (and our good friend Jamie MF Foxx that we had the pleasure of hanging out with).
 
{Sigh.} Our next trip is quickly approaching, B! I'm so excited! Granted we have to run a pesky 13.1 miles, but that will just be part of it! After our little jog we can play and frolic and drink with SLCinNYC! I'm so stoked that she is coming to cheer us on and play with us! Do you remember our last San Diego trip with SLCinNYC? Yeah, me neither... but I do remember one of us having hair like a bear the next morning... No name naming! :-)
 
How has your training been going for the SD Rock n' Roll Half Marathon? So far, I have the rock n' roll part DOWN. The marathon part, not so much. I'm going to see a physical therapist today and I'm confident that she will wave a magic wand, cure my shin splints and instill in me the ability to run 13.1 miles without even thinking about it. It's going to be great! Do you think my expectations are a little high? No? Me either. With the prices she charges I expect nothing less that wand of magic. (Every time I type wand I accidently type wang first.... giggles!)
 
In news a little closer to home and the near future, I'm stoked for girl's night tonight! I'm glad it's going to be a relaxing one. It seems like life has been really stressful lately - for everyone. I feel like all the DramaWhores are disbanding and looking for a life of settled-down-ness and home decorating. BLAH! Bianca promise me we'll never be like that?! And even if we live on separate continents with our awesome future husbands (ew) that we'll still be awesome, adventure seeking and just as hilarious and wild as we are today.  Promise?
 
Shin splinted and (secretly loving being) on hiatus from running,
Bridget

Bianca en Español

Happy Friday!
 
I apologize for this short and sweet e-mail, but I am so swamped at work. I've just really gotten myself in to a pinch here ever since I embelleshed my resume. I'm not a fluent Spanish speaker, and I should not have told them that I was. I am a broken-Spanish-speaker/conversational-Spanish-understander. The only thing I have going for me in this situation is that nobody around me speaks it, and they believe my translations whole heartedly. 
 
Just barely, I had a coworker walk a letter up to my desk from an angry Spanish speaking consumer. She asked me to translate the letter for her. I speak White-Girl-San-Diego Spanish, not pissed off Pharmaceutical Spanish. Also, I don't decode handwriting very well, either. I recognized two words out of the whole foreign chicken scratched letter. I thought to myself, if I was a Spanish speaker who was using our drugs, what would I be angry about... "She's Mexican. She can't read her pill bottle. And she's mad. About that.".... My coworker gave me a look like she was impressed with my worldy communication skills, then asked if I could write the angry woman an apology letter. F.M.F.L.
 
After closer inspection of the letter, I found out that the woman was upset because her irritable bowel medication is making her bowels more irritated than before. What am I supposed to say to that, Senora Martinez, I'm sorry that our medication is making you sh*t. It sounds like you have enough sh*t in your life already, and the last thing you need is more sh*t.
 
You'd think four months living in Spain would give me the language skills needed to respond to such a letter. But nay, I live in Utah, the whitest place on earth.
 
With the incredible wealth of my Spanish vernacular, I've come up with this: You shit, we're sorry.
 
The story of my life.
 
Amor y Besos, Bianca.

Cinco de Drama-o

Hola Bianca -
 
Feliz Cinco de Mayo, mi amiga! Donde esta la cervesa y margaritas y tacos?! (Now, that I've exhausted my entire knowledge of the Spanish language... WHAT? I took French in high school.)
 
How are you today?! The sun is shining and there is celebrations in our Wednesday future! Kickball and then Cinco de Beero at our favie Mexican restaurant? Si, por favor! What could be better? I know... The Hooters competition that we were invited to go to tomorrow night. Yup, we're living the good life, BiancaFace! Isn't it crazy and awesome how we ALWAYS have something to look forward to? Last week we were saying how excited we were for the weekend and I'm already excited for our upcoming weekend plans!
 
Last weekend recap:
 
The weekend definitely lived up to expectations. We partied like it was 2003. Though, I must say, our post-collegiate partying may be even more fun than the sorority days (and a lot less messy)! Algebra's show was a blast. I was so surprised how many of our friends showed up. Even though Liquid Ho's wasn't their scene, they totally rallied to be nice friends. Go them.
 
Preston's surprise party the next night was super successful! I can't believe he had no idea! I thought for sure your uber intelligent and skeptical boyfriend would be on to your tricks, but nay! Total surprise on the birthday front! Win! The open bar provided by Preston's parents was so generous and fun! I'm morbidly curious as to what the bar tab came to...
 
Warning: The rest of this email may be a little somber for your Bianca-like sensibilities.
 
Though this weekend was one of the best ever, I can't help it be overshadowed by Drama (yes, capital d). The drama we used to witness was harmless and hilarious, but this weekend it took a sharp turn to horrid. I can't help but feel badly that we may have encouraged this kind of behavior in the beginning and now it can't be stopped. What was with all the DramaWhore on DramaWhore crime this weekend? This may becoming out of no where (or not), but I feel like it must be said:  The Ex of another DramaWhore is always off mothertrucking limits.
 
Though none of us are exactly sure what lines were crossed, it doesn't matter. Even if it is "harmless" flirting, number exchanging or an *OTPHJ, please steer clear of any person's ex who you are (or claim to be) friends with. 
 
I mean, look at Audrina and Kristin on The Hills (I can't believe I'm referencing The Hills, FML)... Brody and Kristin are long over, but Audrina, that was your bad last week at the bar in Miami and you come out looking skankalicious (while Kristin just looks crackalicious).
 
It's weird how someone else's behavior can make you look at your own life. I've taken a nice look back at my old self and how quick in the past I was to screw over a friend for a dude or choose myself when I should have taken one for the team. I'm really glad I learned the lessons that I did in college. Can you imagine learning all of that now?
 
Though I would still put myself in the moderately to extremely selfish bracket, I'd like to think that I have a better picture of our little world and how important friendships are in that world. Bianca, I would do anything for you and the other DramaWhores... and I'd hope that I'd get the same in return.
 
{Sigh.} I feel like my quarter life crisis is coming on and being induced by not so friendly friend behavior. You see, an ex bestie, BillyJean (one word) has made a comeback into my life. After six months of telling people what a bad person I am, she wants to be friends again. Initially, I just took it as a good thing. I'll be friends again, the past is the past, whatever. But now, I'm thinking of all the stuff she's said and done and I'm wondering, "What is her motivation to be in my life?" Do I let all the stuff go? Do I bring it up? Do I ignore her advances?
 
After so much time with not being involved in practically any friend drama, I feel like I'm up to my eyeballs in it. I think it's time we realize, we too, Bianca, are DramaWhores. Even if we'd prefer to watch from the sidelines, you can't help getting sucked in.
 
Wondering if and how the drama will end,
Bridget
 
*OTPHJ - Over the Pant... figure the rest out.

Preston Under Arrest... In Mexico!

B-Rock!
 
Welcome Home, myself! It's so not good to be here. I left 85 degree paradise to come home to snow? (What is this about, BTW, it's almost May.) My trip was SO fabulous! I'm glad we yoga'd together on Monday, but there's no way Vishnu was about to let us chat mid downward-dog, so I have so much to tell you....
 
Let's start with day one of the Yucatan adventure... We all had that first-day-of-vacation glow where you're slathered in SPF 50 while day dreaming of all the adventures in store... It was a gorgeously sunny day and we took the ferry to Cozumel to rent scooters to ride around the island. Only we didn't get very far because Preston CRASHED his right in front of the rental shop. All I saw was the top of his head jerk to the right then heard a loud bang. He laid there for 30 seconds in what I thought was certain paralysis, but turned out to be just an FML moment. 
 
Although he crashed in to three other scooters, the damage of the whole wreck was amazingly minimal. I'd estimate that the most expensive damage was to his new birthday sunglasses which were reduced to Mexican cobblestone. The scooters were midly scratched. I'm talking a nail polish fix. Yet these scooter scoundrels were demanding upwards of $1,000. After trying to reason with the a-holes, we decided that we paid the $35 insurance for a reason and rode off in to the sunset.
 
We let no-nonsense Papa V return the scooters later that evening. Had anyone else done the return, we would've paid them off in fear (these were scary scootermen). Next thing we know Papa V is approaching the dock (where we were waiting near the getaway boat) being chased by a loud angry Mexican cursing at him to stop (It was one of the Scootermen!) But he kept his steady pace, told us to walk towards the boat and not acknowledge the angry man. This was an effective plan until I heard a shreiking, "BIANCAAAAA". I turned around and there was Preston, in the grips of a Mexican Federale. Outfitted with an olive beret, steel-toed boots, and machine gun, I immediately turned around and started panic-yelling at the man in what I thought was Spanish but was clearly jibberish.
 
The family eventually made it to the scene of the arrest, thank god, because all of that Spanish I learned studying abroad conveniently escaped me. Everyone jumped in to try and tell the story to the burley armed Mexican cop. We aren't talking here, we are yelling in Spanish -To the ferry boat operator, to the Federale, to Scooterman, trying to explain the situation. Preston neither speaks nor understands Spanish, and was constantly asking me for a translation. I was panicking and there was clearly no time for this. The Federale finally agrees with us, apologizes to Preston, then says "you give a bad name to Mexico" to Scooterman, then lets us go. Preston asked if 'Lo Siento' meant 'You're under arrest' in Spanish. We let him wonder... We finally made it back to Playa and Preston eventually lauged about the whole situation. (When he made it back through customs in the US). I just wish we had pictures.
 
Everything else pails in comparison of shock value, but after catastrophe day #1, the rest of the trip was flawless! Have you ever seen Planet Earth Caves edition? Well I swam in one exactly like that. It was a mile long, pitch dark underground cave complete with stalagtites and blind marine life. I had to wear a head lamp to see. It was incredible.
 
I dove off cliffs in to the Carribean Sea, snorkled with exotic sea life, found a starfish (they crawl, it's outrageous), found a rope swing, hiked through Mayan ruins (the end of the world is a farse), and found our own secret white sand aqua-blue beach. It was literally the best vacation I've ever had. My room still kind of smells like the beach, and I am hoping it lingers for just a little bit longer.
 
I'm so happy to hear you had a drama fueled week with the DWs. I can't wait to see what happens this weekend! Algebra's concert AND Prestons big 25?! I think we're in for a doozie, my friend.
 
 
Tan and Skinny from drinking the water,
 
Bianca.

Possible Career Choices

Dearest Tan, Relaxed and Hotter than ever Bianca,
 
Welcome back from Mexico! I'm so glad you made it home safely! I didn't want to say anything before you left, but I was worried sick you were going to be taken in by the Mexican Mob or Policia. But all my time spent worrying was silly because you had a fantabulous trip! I can't wait for you to tell me all about it.  As much as you squeezed in at yoga last night, I feel there's WAY more we need to talk about!
 
Ever since you left I've been looking for career openings for Professional Island Hopper.  While, I haven't found that title, I think a few come close.

Here are our next possible career choices:
Tiger Woods' Next Mistress
Flight Attendant on Scary Propeller Plane
Tropical Island Fisherwoman
Poacher of Rare and Wanted Tropical Fish
Shark Wrangler
Fugitive
Beach Sand Analyzer
Wife in Harem of Saudi Prince with Yacht
Castaway
 
If any of those look promising to you, let me know and I'll send over the application (the application process is a bit dicey on a few of those... just so you know).
 
While you were away I got a lot of playing in with the DramaWhores. We gambled, drank, ate and, as usual, our friends ruined lives. Needless to say, it was a great two weekends (the work week, not so much). I missed you like crazy every time I went to roll my eyes or point and giggle (I would never point and laugh at one of my friends), because no one was there on
the receiving end.

I am SO excited for this weekend! Algebra's band playing on Friday, Preston's birthday on Saturday and then our favorite couple are returning from living in NYC and throwing a bash on Sunday! Ah, it's spring, Bianca! Every weekend just gets better than the last!
 
AND the Utah Jazz are kicking Denver's butt in the playoffs! (Normally, I love all things Denver, but in this case, EAT IT, THUGGETS!)
 
Kind of Enjoying Being A Jazz Fan,
Bridget

Bianca's Off to Mexico!

GOOD MORNING!
 
It certainly is a good morning for me. Although this may be the longest day of my life, because as you know, I'm going to Playa Del Carmen tomorrow! Did I mention I'm going on a spectacular tropical vacation tomorrow? Oh that's right, I just did. Silly me. The hours are just crawling by like a turtle. It's tortoise speed torture.
 
Is it weird that I'm already feeling depressed about coming back from my fabulous vacation that I may or may not have rubbed in your face? (This is kind of like that silly drink you got in Las Vegas that you whined about it not wanting to be over after your first sip.) I know that is backwards seeing as I haven't even left yet, but thinking about the trip ending and having to come back to work just makes me so sad. I want to island hop for my career. Are there jobs available in that field? Professional Island Hoppers? Think about THAT. I could have business cards that play calypso music like on those greeting cards. My e-mail would have a permanent out-of-office reply. Business casual would mean putting clothes on... I'm going to look in to that.
 
Do you realize this is the first major vacation I'm taking without you in more than a year and a half? Yes, I've been to Sun Valley here and San Diego there without you on a few occasions, and you recently went to Sin City with Mr. Algebra, but week-long-out-of-the-country trips? That's our thing. How am I supposed to explore this place without my favorite partner in crime (this is a term I'm trying to replace, FYI)?!? I have a feeling Preston isn't going to enjoy flirting with foreigners while drinking mojitos on the beach as much as you do. And as you know, I enjoy that very much. I'm going to miss my best friend, but will keep you updated with absurdly expensive international text messages. Make sure to tweet for me while I'm gone.
 
So we all love my dad, Papa Vanderstappen. His nerdy bike shorts, his love of Seinfeld and the Beatles, and most of all his surprising Liberal views on the world. It is rare that we see a baby boomer physician who supports the left. A liberal yourself, you and my Dad get along very well. Planned Parenthood and Social Program supporters, the three of us just understand the world. But let me tell you where this all starts to deviate... When issues of said baby boomer concern his daughter (me). With all of his modern contemporary views, he still will not let Preston and I sleep in the same bed. When I come visit, Jon and Cece* sleep in the same bed but Preston and I have to sleep in different beds, on different floors of the house. The point of all this is, what are we supposed to do in Playa? The sleeping arrangements haven't been discussed, and if my dad's rules apply in foreign countries, are Jon and Preston seriously supposed to share a hotel room? We really have to play it like we're the Cleavers? I just don't understand. He has to know that his little bunny is not a virgin anymore. We've been together for 5 years and we don't follow the gospel. Papa V arrives first and is checking us all in, so when we get there, I guess we'll see. The anticipation is killing me. I'll keep you posted on the sitch.
 
We'll have a lot to talk about when I get back. I am so jealous that I don't get to take the "fun bus" with the DramaWhores tonight like you. You are going to have a blast in Bendover, Nevada. Enjoy black jack, smoking inside and free cocktails tonight, my dear. And most importantly, don't get abducted.
 
PS: Mani-Pedi's at 3? I think I'm going to work a half-day today as per usual. I love my job.
 
 
LOVE AND PINA COLADAS,
 
Bianca. xoxo
 
*Jon is Bianca's older brother, Cece is his girlfriend. Note: Their names have been changed. Kind of.

You did not make my morning.

Dear Grumpy Starbucks Employee,

I would like you to know that I come to Starbucks on my way to work every morning at 7:45 (okay, 8:00) to receive your delicious and tasty drinks that are sure to start my day off right.  I come there because I know you’ve been working hard preparing the supplies since approximately 4:00 in the morning to insure that my drink of choice will be fabulous and just the picker upper I need.  Also, since you’ve been up so long and are well into your day, I know that you will greet me with all the smile I need to remind me to smile at work all day long!

Today was quite another story.  Listen, I know that I was texting in line, but I doubt it required the attitude you gave me and the dirty look. Let’s face it, you were full on snotty! I’m sorry that those 15 minutes in the day are the only 15 minutes that I have to communicate with Mr. Algebra, Bianca, and my best friends, The DramaWhores. I am also sorry that after work I have to head straight to class until 8 o’clock and right to bed leaving very little time to communicate with those near to me.

I understand that if I would have been on my phone and then pondering my order and wasting your time, the look may have been warranted, but dude, I have my order down.  You see me every morning… YOU should have my order down.

On top of that, I tip you EVERY day in the 40-50% bracket, and this is the thanks I get?

Grrr.

I’ll see you tomorrow.  And hopefully your attitude will have improved.

Jeers,

Bridget

Best Night in SLC... ever!

Dear Bianca,

Friday may have been the best night ever. Who would have ever guessed that I would say that about a night in Salt Lake City (usually our grand events occur out of the SL,UT) at The Hotel!? (Not our usual hot spot, sorry Mr. Borreson.) We had been hyping up this event for the whole week and most of the time our hype is bigger than our reality and expectations are never quite met (see: New Year’s), but man oh man… Friday rocked my whole world. The bands were awesome, the crowd was kick ass and the drinks were free! Thank you, Hotel!

The drama our friends created was spectacular. QDW made out with two giant redheads (and maybe a few other people – who’s counting?), but who can find one giant red head worthy of a little kissy kissy at the bar, let alone TWO. I’m downright proud. I love how she calls herself “junior high slutty.” It’s dead on. She kisses a lot of cute boys and then is finished with them. Not only is it a hilarious form of entertainment for us (especially when it happens in public), but it’s very responsible of her, I never have to worry about our Bestie coming down with a scary STD. Go QDW.

Confession: QDW’s screaming and door slamming later on in the evening (read: early morning) that you had to deal with, yeah I’m going to go ahead and take responsibility for that. I’m sorry Miss Bianca. I should have confessed when you called on your walk home (long after I was cozy in bed) to tell me about her outburst (complete with her screaming in the background). It's my fault, you see, every free (thanks to all of you who made this possible) drink I was given I took two sips and then passed it to QDW. Also, I apologize for getting us shots downstairs (fa free, thanks well dressed man trying to keep us in the bar) and then dodging out. All of this contributed to the stomping, yelling and screaming (that was pretty hilarious to hear from the comfort of my bed). In any event, I surely would have been drinking my own drinks and meandering home with you wonderful girls if I didn’t have that pesky 5K the next morning.

Next order of business: The STOLEN vase in my living room. World, this is what I woke up to when I was trying to get ready for the first race of my running career.



I live in a very expensive and very secure apartment building, and whoever stole this from my lobby and then put it in my living room for me to find the next day (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, FUNNY GIRL) is in big trouble! As hilarious as this is, it’s not that hilarious because I was given a verbal warning (which was written in my file) by my apartment manager. For the record – it goes verbal warning, written warning, and then @$$ kicked to the street. I need not remind you that I am on a month to month lease and can be kicked out at anytime. Please leave your hilarious vase stealing to outside of my apartment, because I really don’t think you’ll like helping me move (I have a lot of heavy ish).

Epic disappointment of the week: Shu Uemura pulling out of not only Nordstrom, but the entire United States! What the hell, L'Oréal?! I get it, you need to focus on your more “successful” high end brands in the States, but seriously, how am I supposed to get ready for our wonderful night expeditions without the Tokyo Lash Bar? I know MAC has some lashes to choose from, but blah, I’m over MAC and you should be, too. Plus, their foundation makes me break out like crayzay so I couldn’t have them do a full makeover like the wonderful people at the Shu Uemura counter at Nordy’s {stomp and pout}.

{Sigh} Everything seems boring compared to Friday night, but maybe that’s just because it’s Tuesday and that's always boring. Did you hear QDW took the day off? Lucky girl.

See you at yoga,

Bridget

P.S. I finally got my beach cruiser put together, thanks to Mr. Algebra. Our biker gang is now complete.

Dear Celebrities, Love Bianca

Dear Bridget,

As you know, I'm going on a fabulous equatorial vacation in a week and a half, and naturally, I've checked out from work (and life and necessary responsibilities, but hey, who's counting). I've been using a lot of company time and property to both online shop and browse the Internet. In my hard work at work, I've not only burned a hole in my pocket, but in my brain as well. Thanks to TMZ and PerezHilton, I've become a real creeper. One day I looked at 37 pictures of Suri Cruise shopping with mom in NY. I realize how weird that may sound, but was I the one hiding in the bushes taking pictures of the two-year old? No. I just enjoyed the slide show and now feel like I know the young toddler. It's not only Suri, I feel like I have a kinship with many celebrities now. My many hours per week have earned me this privilege, and I feel like reaching out to my new friends in a segment I'd like to call, Dear Celebrities, by Bianca Vanderstappen.

Dear Khole,
You bagged an NBA player because your sister made a sex tape with Brandy's brother. You are one lucky betch.

Dear Sandy,
He wears overalls, has a hairy hairy back, and his mistress is a nazi. You are an Oscar winner. This split is a good thing.

Dear Jon,
Turns out Kate is a horrible b*tch. I'm sorry we all doubted you.
See Jimmy Fallon's impression of Kate on DWTS here:


Dear Tiger,
I get it. You're rich, famous, and women throw themselves at you. But seriously? She's a toothless Internet porn star.

Dear Rachel Uchitel,
You're not famous and you don't deserve to be because you slept with a married man. On behalf of women everywhere, shame on you.

Dear Mariah and Jennifer Love Hewitt,
You're weird in a bad way. Think weird in a good way, like Lady Gaga.

Dear Scarlet,
I just don't like you very much. I don't know why, but your over-confidence and giant lips just rub us (those who agree with me) the wrong way. I don't know what else to say.

Dear Lindsay,
Where'd you go? You're way more fun when publicly drug bingeing and hopelessly chasing after your girlfriend. *(Girls With Prius Envy does not promote the use of illegal drug use unless you're Lindsay Lohan). I'm not here to help, only to judge.

Dear Clooney,
You = SWM. Me = DTF.

Dear Snooki,
You are the last person anybody would expect to be famous. I love you. I love your poof. I love your wild jacuzzi make outs. Keep it up.

Dear Jen,
I'm on to you. Someone as gorgeous and age-defying as yourself should have bagged a man by now. And not just any man, you should've bagged yourself a 10. But you haven't. And for the last few years I have been on your team, cursing Brangelina's name. But it's been five years, Jen. And your lack-of-man has given you a lot of convenient attention.... I'm on to you.

Call me!

Bianca.

Last Week>This Week

Last week in Palm Springs:




This week in Salt Lake City:




...but we thought tomorrow was April Fools.

Bridget on Hiatus

Hey hey Bianca -
 
I'm so glad we had our lovely jaunt to Palm Springs. It was just the vacation I needed before my next vacation: Spring Break with Mr. Algebra. (Now that he's reached boyfriend status, I figure it fair to reveal his name. GASP! I know, more on that later.) Regardless of our regular cynicsism and complaints, we're so lucky.
 
Highlights of the Palm Springs Trip:
 
1) Cougars. A: I can't believe there is a bar named Cougars. B: I can't believe how well it lived up to it's name. And C: I can't believe we STILL have brusies from the air guitar we pulled out on the dance floor. Maybe I should join you in dance retirement... I mean, who gets this many bruises dancing? QDW came out unscathed, but maybe it's just because we put our whole hearts, hair and head banging and into our "moves."  In any event, Cougars. I just like saying it, Cougars.
 
2) Being called a HORRIBLE BITCH by your Mom's boyfriend (AKA: David Letterman, AKA: Richy Rich's Dad). Taking it as a compliment, hey, hearts is a competitive card game.
 
3) Our enlightening hot tub conversation where it was (I think) decided that everybody cheats. Even the good ones. (Not opening that can of worms on this email!) Sadly, I think I agree with this theory...
 
Bianca, you can't quit your job and become a Social Worker if that means we'd have to take a hiatus from our favorite form of hiatus. If I can do it on a teacher's salary, you could do it on a social worker's salary, I promise. I think it's great that you'd like to help people, but pharmaceutical marketing helps people, too! And you're damn good at what you do... You are the highest and most respected form of a drug dealer. Soak it up. Love it. Own it.
 
Alright. I'll spill. Mr. Algebra and I are going on "Spring Break" together (one of the many perks of being a teacher and dating a teacher). We're heading to the city of sin for a long weekend. I have a stack of books donated by my mother to read by the pool and he has March Madness to bet on and roulette tables screaming his name. We'll meet up on occasion and I'm sure he'll want to see the inside of at least one of the three Tiffany's that is on The Strip now, right? Dudes LOVE Tiffany's.
 
It will be a far cry from the Sin City Vacations with my DramaWhores that I'm used to, I mean, how I am supposed to properly sin without my favorite set of sinners? I'm very excited nonetheless. You see, Bianca, I'm quite smitten with Mr. Algebra. I'm not sure what the x factor is, but I'm definitely content trying to figure it out. (Pun, albeit obvious, intended... and yes, he is as nerdy as I am).
 
I'll miss you this weekend, but you and QDW have fun in Bendover, ya hear?!
 
Spring Breaking Well Into My Mid Twenties,
Bridget

Less Dancing, More Social Working

Hello Tan and Relaxed Friend,

Welcome home! That was the best trip we've had in a long time. We didn't get a cloud the whole weekend. And while my spray tan has almost completey washed off, I still have tanlines from our marathon pool-laying session. Even though QDW didn't find herself a rich husband, the trip was still a 10.

After getting made fun of at our favorite new Palm Springs hot spot, "Cougars", I've started thinking more and more about my dancing skills. All these years I thought I was a good dancer, but I'm starting to realize that maybe I was wrong. Maybe when people were pointing and laughing it wasn't because they were jealous of my fashions, maybe it was because I suck. I read an article that says that good dancing is simply having fun. Take for instance, Cameron Diaz. She's lurpy and uncoordinated, but still looks adorable when she dances. But then I watch the video you took of my solo in the dance circle, and It's just terrible. I'm a bad dancer. There's no kind way to put it. I'm Elaine. This is a huge existential moment for me. Unless we're drunk and/or in Vegas, I'm quitting the dance game. It's just one of the many changes I will make in my life in the year oh ten.

Bridget, I'm quitting my job to become a social worker. Preston and I watched Precious last night, and it was one of those life changing movies. The same way The Blindside made me want to adopt a troubled teen and BLOW made me want to kill myself. After seeing Precious, I want to help people. The other half of the day when I wasn't decoding graphic design files, I was searching for careers in the Helping Industry. After four missed deadlines and two weeks of mastering graphic design, I'm quitting the marketing game and becoming a social worker. We might not be able to take such extravagant vacations anymore (well any vacations at all for that matter) on my new salary, but I will sleep better at night knowing that I'm making the world a better place.

In unrelated Prius news, mine is broken. The spedometer is reporting impossibly high speeds. I never thought I'd have to repair my favorite robot, but it looks like I'm finally going to have to meet the service staff at Toyota.

Peace, Love and Pri'i,
Bianca the Social Worker.

Heading to the Desert!

Dear World,
 
We are jetting off to Palm Springs today with our bestie QDW.
 
Until the flight, our lives are quite literally a mess of stress, but don't you distress, the moment we're through security, we'll find the closest bar and remedy that little stress issue.
 
We won't be emailing until our return (no checking work emails!), but feel free to follow our tweets at: www.twitter.com/priusenvy
 
Off to shop, tan and flirt.  STF, baby! (Those Jersey Shorians got nothing on us!)
 
Living extremely hard lives,
Bianca and Bridget

Our Chat Roulette Experience

Bianca Darling,
 
First off, thank you for the awesome weekend! We had such a blasty! Saturday was simply the best.  Greek food, massages and manicures, outdoor hot tub while it's snowing sipping on Bailey's and hot chocolate! Man, I love our lives. Especially because that wasn't even the end of our day!
 
After we all swapped outfits (I really like everyone else's closet better than my own) and got ready together (so much more fun than showering alone) we played with our new obsession (which I think might reach an unhealthy level, soon). Chat. Roulette. Oh Chat Roulette... Why is this the most interesting thing ever? When I say interesting I obviously mean hilarious, wonderful, strange, racy, trippy, voyeuristic, and of course, disgusting.  I can't explain this phenomenon any better.  My favorite strangers were the Chicagoans who serenaged us on the guitar. Or the hottie from London. Or the guy with the kids who mooned us. Least favorite... the trojan horse child. I can't believe we got tricked like that, that little pervert. "Little kid, what are you doing on this website, where's your momm.... OH.... NO... IT'S NOT A LITTLE KID!..... AW GROSS, PRESS NEXT, PRESS NEEEEXT!!" But wow.  Can we acknowledge that we almost didn't go out (for the second time) because we were too "busy" chat rouletting it up? Yikes.
 
Thank goodness one of the other Drama Whores peeled us out from in front of the computer screen. I'm really glad we went out! I had a fun night making nerds happy.  And wow! QDW was incredibly well behaved (while I was there at least).  What more could I ask for on a weekend?
 
I hope your Monday is going famously! I'm a little groggy from $%^&* Daylight Savings Time, but all in all, I must say, it's a good Monday! From what I understand your boss is back at work this week and you might actually have to put in a few hours at the office before we jet off to Palm Springs? You poor, poor thing. How will you ever make it to Thursday?
 
I was so glad to read your last email! Your mood went from stressed out of your brain to straight up cheerful! Aw, I love what blue sky, running and shedding a few pounds can do!  You look absolutely fabulous (and so does the perma-grin you have on your face)! I'm not sure how many pounds (if any) I'm down, but I feel great and I'm really progressing on my running schedule (thank you to your color coding Excel abilities! - thank you btw)! Win!
 
I laughed my little head off (really, I have a freakishly small head) reading your worst Ad Campaigns Ever list. I have to inform you; however, you did miss one. The "I'll Never Leave You" stalker ads from Kay Jewelers. Creeeeper, no I don't want your necklace (that you may use to strangle me in the very near future, pearl or otherwise).
 
In Prius news, did you hear that guy may have FAKED his Prius freak out on the highway in Cali?  Who would ever tarnish the record of Prius (and almost scare the Prius Driving out of me)?  If that guy really did make up his horrible Prius experience, he may be the new Dick Cheney on Bridget's List of Evil.
 
Loving you, loving me, loving Pri'i everywhere,
BridgeyPoo

From Bad to Worse

Bridget!
 
Good MORNING! I'm having a great day. Not only can I see blue sky for the first time in three days, but I have been keeping up with my running schedule. I figure with three half marathons in our future, I better get my new (and seriously awesome) Nike's on the pavement.
 
Thank you, by the way, for calling me a cynical b*tch. I sincerely appreciate that, and apologize for losing my way last week. I pride myself on my cynical b*tch (CB)-ness and to be reminded that I haven't strayed from my favorite flaw makes me feel good. As far marriage and babies are concerned, I very much appreciated your incredibly optimistic take on the whole situation. It's not often I get to hear such encouraging and cheerful words from a contemptuous biddy (CB) such as yourself.
 
In other good news, (I told you I was in a good mood today) I am wearing my skinny jeans. Every few months or so, I am reminded by this particular pair that I am beyond my 5 lb buffer, and need to shed a few. Which I have. (Thank you new, and seriously awesome Nikes.) I am feeling great, healthy, and skinny, but will tell you what doesn't make me feel all of those things: The worst ad campaign of Oh Ten, "I LOVE MY BODY" by Victoria's Secret.... Ya THINK!? Hi, I'm Alessandra Ambrosio and I love my body. No sh*t you love you body, you're a world famous swimsuit model. I love your body too. This is supposed to make us love our bodies, watching these skinny broads flaunt their hip bones on TV? It's not going to happen. This commercial makes me not love my body and is (definitively) the worst ad campaign of the year. Which brings me to the topic of my e-mail today. 5 Worst Ad Campaigns Ever (according to Bianca).
 
In order from bad to worse:
 
5: Viva Viagra
This is a male enhancement pill. Yet in this commercial a man is playing the guitar and singing Elvis songs around the campfire to his male friends. I don't think there is even a woman in the commercial at all. Take Viagra and meet friends, learn how to play the guitar, and drive an old car again. Unless his wife is supposed to be an analogy for the old car, this commercial was flaccid. (Puns are hard. (Pun Intended)).
 
4: Kayak.com
If someone can tell me what these commercials mean, I will take this off the list. I guess I'm disappointed by these commercials because Kayak.com is one of my favorite websites. I don't book a hotel or flight without it! But the couple making out during the meeting, I just don't understand it. Why seeing this middle-aged couple mack on each other is supposed to make me visit their site or even remember the brand is beyond me. But I'm open to suggestions on this one.
 
3: Levi Jeans
Levi is a notoriously '90s brand and has a very small cool quotient in the zeros. (Is that what we're calling it, the zeros....). In so many words, they should be advertising to a wide variety of folks. So when they came out with that ad campaign where the two people are ripping each others jeans off, not only did they make me uncomfortable, they seriously marginalized their demographic. You're either 20, horny, and wear Levi's or your the other 99% of the population. Idiots.
 
2: GoDaddy.com
For starters, Danica Patrick is not hot. I'm a woman who is attracted to men who do not watch Nascar, so I may be way off the mark here, but I just don't see her as the embodiment of "sex sells". Not only are these commercials completely nonsensical, but I still have no idea what they are selling. Every ad ends with, to see the end of the story, visit GoDaddy.com. I'm not going to do it. It might be porn.
 
1: Quiznos
Quiznos has a long history of bad advertising; the creepy baby, the dirty talking rats, but this most recent ad takes the gross cake. The talking toaster that says, "Put it in me, Scott"... As in, put the phallic sandwich in the warm manly toaster. I just don't know how this innuendo is supposed to make me want a sandwich. I guess Quiznos wants their sandwiches to be tained with rat hair and $%#& sex.
 
In ironic news, I just saw an article on MSNBC.com that read, "Toyota Ads Lure Back Buyers". I wish I had more time to talk about the "Runaway Prius" story I just read on the news, but I have to go home for the day by choice. Please elaborate on this hilarious and ridiculous situation.
 
Stand by your van. (By van, I of course mean Prius).
Bianca.

Happiness.

Wow Bianca!
 
Your last email stressed me out. I’m glad your business trip was great, but the sad women you met, not so great. I just need to start out by asking, WHY DO YOU THINK WE WILL EVER TURN OUT LIKE THESE WOMEN? I think we’re currently more than fabulous and there’s no way that should ever change. Maybe these women weren’t all that great to begin with and then becoming too comfortable in their marriages, popping out kids and then full on letting themselves go took it’s all too obvious and scary toll.
 
But whoa BiancaFace, while they went to one extreme, you definitely jumped ship and went to an entirely different extreme. I’m with you that there may not be room for a traditional family in modern society, but there certainly is room for a modern family (gah, I love that show) in our society.
      
Sidenote:  You went from saying we’re almost twenty-middle (which is true) to saying we are twenty-middle which is uber false. I turn twenty-middle this year (about a month and a half after you, thank you very much) and I don’t want you prematurely aging me, okay? The UV rays I soaked in fake baking in high school do that enough, so cool your jets, ass hat. 
 
You’re right. You are Bianca. You’re the classic preppy cheerleader who (whether you like it or not) will turn into perfect Stepford Wife (with a killer career and/or own philanthropic organization). You and Preston will have the perfect life together (and they may or may not include popping out a few kiddos and then resenting them for your stretch marks that you will undoubtedly have surgically removed as soon as you’re finished having said 2.5 kids). Your reality that you mentioned in your last email, is your nightmare and no where near any bearings of what reality you will have.
 
First of all, you already are a cynical b*tch and that’s why Preston and I love you so much. Next, you’re the naturally skinniest person I know. Truly, your “fat” days make me want to develop a recreational coke habit. AND look at your mother… skinnier and hotter than every year previous (how does she do it?!).  You’ve got the goods and the genes. Eff to the you. Plus, you will never be the helpless, confused divorcee that you made future Bianca out to be. Since when are you that girl? Um, never. That’s when.
 
While having children scares the ish out you, that doesn’t mean that it always will. Obviously we’re nowhere near ready to have children, and being scared about having kids is okay!  Hell, Bianca, if you never want to have kids, that’s okay, too! BUT it most definitely is possible to have children, have a career, have a husband and HAVE HAPPINESS. Yes, Bridget the cynic, does please that true happiness is possible and she does believe that having a family can be part of that happiness.
 
I think what people forget is that having a family doesn’t equal happiness.  Getting married doesn’t equal happiness. Popping out a kid will not equate happiness. Just having a fabulous career or lots of money won’t make you happy either (though, I’m sure it helps). Happiness is a quest of its own and not acquired by any one element. I truly believe that happiness is something that one needs to work on every day. Today, I will be happy. If that’s not possible, EFFING CHANGE THE STATUS QUO. Change what’s not making you happy and BE HAPPY.
 
In any event, it’s obviously easier said than done, but I don’t think it’s anything YOU have to worry about. I can’t count how often I get texts, emails or phone calls from you about how much you love our lives. You’re a lucky girl, Bianca and that luck is not going to run out anytime soon. So please, don’t worry your pretty little face about the future (no need causing worry lines and premature Botox). Enjoy the ride in your Hybrid Synergy Drive powered vehicle, we have way too much fun to worry about anything except our next excursion (HELLO PALM SPRINGS!!).

Living the dream in my un-recalled Prius,

Bridget

P to the S: I think running so much is turning me into an optimist. Yuck. Details to come.

Do women even "want it all" anymore?

Good Morning Bridge!
 
My business trip was great! Except they are so fashion-backwards out there, I looked like a million bucks in comparison. I thought Seattle-ites (Seattle-ins..... Satellites...) were super Metropolitan and fabulous, but I was wrong. They're all frumpy and divorced. These women kept saying things like, "Hmm, well aren't you just so lucky. I miss the days when I didn't have a family to take care of so I could be put together like you." What. Because you have kids you didn't have time to wipe the lipstick off your teeth and take a shower? Give me a break. It was just a big step back in my fear of procreating. These women are admittedly miserable, and they attribute this to their families. Which brings me to my question of the day: Is there room for the traditional family in modern society?
 
We're Twenty-Middle now. This means that our partners and potential partners could be our life-partners. In fact, it's likely that the people we're with right now, will be our life partners. Preston and I will be celebrating 4.5 years together next week. We're happy, and he's the most wonderful person I know, so I find no reason to fix or break this thing we've got goin' on. But I know that our functional and traditional relationship will eventually lead to a traditional engagement, followed by one of those perfect spring weddings that you see in The Knot magazine, follwed by a traditional family with 2.5 toe-headed children, a golden retriever, and a white SUV. This is the most sickening idea of the life I always wanted. I know you're confused right now.... On paper, this is excatly how it should go. I am Bianca. I was raised in suburbia. I was a cheerleader. I joined a sorority in college, and dated the fraternity presdent. This is just the next step in my textbook life, right? Wrong. Because this is reality:

Ten years after said perfect wedding and suburban life, Bianca puts on some weight, gets some crows feet, gets tired of raising her perfect children, and becomes a  
       cynical b*tch. Preston, out of necessity, finds himself in the arms of someone who is not so mean, fat, and old. Her perfect life suddenly comes crashing down and  
       she's forced to move in to a condo and learn how to date again at 40 with part-time kids, golden retireiver and used Pontiac because she had to sell her white SUV to pay  
       for her expensive divorce from which she was left with nothing.

Times have changed. Mr. Brady is a closet homosexual and Marsha is 16 and Pregnant. It's hard to make a marriage last these days, and who wants to put in the effort? I have too much pride to stand by my man like these politician and NBA wives, but can sympathize with them not wanting to go at it alone. It seems so much more efficient to forgo the whole dog and pony show, but then your forced to die alone. But is that the only reason to have children, so that there is someone out there who has to love you and take care of you when you're 90 and divorced?  Having kids just seems like so much pressure. What if I don't like my kids? I don't really like other peoples kids, there is a chance I won't like mine! And if I do like them, what if they hate me? What if I get one of those kids with teen angst who harms animals and likes guns?  What if I don't hold the thing enough as an infant and they end up emotionally unstable? I don't know if I could handle being responsible for making someone emotionally unstable.
 
I want to be HAPPY not just complacent. I want to be in love with Preston. I don't want him to be my friend and companion, I want him to be my man. (Said with a grunt, like Maaa-hn). I just feel like you never see happy families anymore. You see happy independent people and miserable families. I literally believe you have a better chance of happiness if you get pregnant first, and then choose your partner. Because if they choose you with all of your baggage, you know it's going to work. I just don't want to be 40 years old and be judged by a Twenty-Something because I have lipstick on my teeth and didn't have time for a shower.
 
In the age of self-indulgence and instant gratification, can a life long romance work, and can you have independence and a happy family at the same time? 
 
Think about it, and get back to me. I'll be awaiting your response as I breathe in to this paper bag after giving myself a nervous breakdown from this glimpse in to my future...
 
 
Stressed out in Salt Lake City,
 
Bianca.

Apples, Chips and Other Valentine's Objects

Dear Bridget and Bianca,

Oh dear sisters of the sorority variety! I'm missing you here on the other side of the country! I'm so glad I'm able to keep up with your email correspondence, but I've been lacking some of my own.

I've been neglecting telling this story for awhile, but I think it's time that the truth comes out. While the two of you were with your respective Valentine's on Single Awareness Day, my story, was much different.

As I am a single girl in the city of cities (NYC... duh) I planned a Valentine's to remember... with my other single girls. We started the day, innocent enough, with a delicious brunch. Well. At said brunch, I got a little tipsy. Okay. I got drunk. Fine. I was flat out wasted and dancing (the ONLY one dancing) before noon. Needless to say I was kindly asked to vacate the premises.

I wish the story ended there.

Sadly, that's just the beginning.

I later woke up in my overpriced Manhattan apartment at 9:00 pm and still don't remember exactly how I got there. When I arose, I felt sick and rushed the the bathroom. That's when it happened. A chip (that I don't remember eating) lodged in the back of my throat and I was sure I was about to choke to death.

Fearing my impending death, I walked to the police station in my neighborhood (I know, holy unbelievable, this is partially why it has taken me so long to tell you both). I was thrust into the back of a police car and taken to the emergency room of the hospital (yes, the hospital, stop laughing b*tches). There, the kind doctors gave me apple sauce and apple juice to dissolve the (could have been) fatal chip.

Thankfully, the next morning I awakened. I could still feel the chip, but had a very clean airway.

I'm writing to tell my story and so you know I'm alive. In case some other chip (or other foreign object) should ever lodge it's way into my throat, someone will at least know of this story.

I hope this email finds you both safe and sound (and chip free) in SLC!

Loving apples and the Big Apple,
SLCinNYC

Our Texts From Last Night

Normally we only post our sensationalistic emails, but last night's text conversation was too good to keep to ourselves.  We think we're funny, hopefully you do too!
 
Bridget:  Are you going to come run at the gym in the morn with me?
 
Bianca:  No.  Don't judge me.  I love you.
 
Bridget:  Judging.
 
Bianca:  It's hard to sleep on hydroxycrack.  It's a good thing you've got the sleeping goods.
 
Bridget:  Uppers and downers.  This will not end well.  Ask Shirley Temple.
 
Bianca:  And Michael Jackson.
 
Bridget:  Hey.  That was tragic and is not going to happen to me.  I was referring to a mental break or a stint in a cush hospital for exhaustrion and you go Michael Jackson on me?  Really, crack pusher?
 
Bianca:  HAHAHAHA! I apologize.  What about Mariah Carey?  She had a weak sauce breakdown.
 
Bridget:  Thank you.  Much more my speed.  I was thinking more Lady Gaga cancelling tour dates and being exhausted... or Dave Chapelle, Bob Barker... or even Lil Bow Wow (is it just Bow Wow, now?).  All way better comparisons, LiLo.
 
Bianca:  Dips on LiLo.  If a little breakdown equals that much weight loss, I'm in.
 
Bridget: I know, right?  I'd for sure go semi-crazy to be that skinny. Well, probably not because it could always backfire, Britney Style.  We've really seen a lot of celebs go to extremems.  Do you think people know how supafecked our generation is?  Even we have done a few crazy things to shed a few pounds.  Bianca, we attended a milatary style boot camp last spring. 
 
Bianca:  I was just thinking that same thing. We'll look back on ourselves and hope our daughters aren't that crazy.  But by then, there will be way more drastic measures they can resort to for weight loss.
 
Bridget:  Think how messed up previous generations thought the nexts gens were.  Morality is on the downhill, while entertainment is at an all time high.
 
Bianca:  I'll take our iPresent over shoulder pads and coke binges any day.
 
Bridget:  A to the men, though did I hear shoulder pads are back in right now?  Anyway.  Kiss Samantha goodnight and give Dina a high five.  Xo.
 
Bianca:  Say hi to Nick Cannon for me.  I bet you sleep in a butterfly teddy with a full face of make up. Also, you used to be hot but now you are bizarre and overweight.  Nighty night!
 
Bridget:  God damn it.  How do you get anorexic lesbian and I get fat has been?
 
Bianca:  Dibs! Haha.  Go to bed.  I can't stop laughing.

Note:  Bridget did not end up going to the gym the next morning because she was too sore and tired from the gym the day before (and Mariah Carey definitely would have stayed in bed, too).

The Moynahan Aniston Variey Scare Me

Bianca My Dear,

Happy week after Valentine’s Day!  How was your and Preston’s night?  Did you do anything super romantic around the SLC?  New guy and I had an excellent night.  We hit up Ruth’s Diner (super low key and romantic), drank way too much wine and exchanged gifts.  I’ve never been so spoiled by someone other than my Dad (which is a really good sign, no?).  He treats me like the Prius Owning Princess that I am and I loves it.

New Guy brought up a commitment again this weekend, and I again, wiggled my way out of it.  It’s not that I’m scared to commit to him.  It’s that I’m scared sh*tless to commit to him.  I definitely care about him, don’t want to date other dudes and can only see things moving in a good direction (at a sloths pace, of course), but my relationship history is one of the most rocky this side of the Rockies; therefore, I’m keeping our relationship in a state of noncommittal bliss as long as possible.  I just worry that my not wanting to be his girlfriend is going to hurt his feelings and our chances in the future. {sigh}

Poor Bridget Moynaham.  Your email got me thinking a lot about my not-so-lucky partner in name.  Yikes.  She’s definitely on the downhill (even though she’s still a thousand times hotter than 99% of the population) and not getting younger or luckier.  And dude, don't even get me started on Aniston.  She's the most perfect person ever (from where I'm standing).  What's wrong with her? Why is she so unlucky?  She must have sold her soul to the devil to get the Rachel Role.  And we all know that soul selling is bad karma.  What if that happens to one of us later in life?  You think you’re totally set with some awesome dude, find yourself pregnant and unmarried (but it’s totally okay because it’s the hip thing to do these days, thanks Johnny Depp and Goldie Hawn) and then WHAM!  Your man is gone with someone hotter than you.  {Sigh}.  At least when Hacking cheated on me, I was hotter than the “other woman,” still under 25 and awesome (duh), thus, came out on top of the situation, but… it still sucked.

Being cheated on, deceived and in some ways totally taken advantage of totally did a number on my mental state and self esteem.  I think I rebounded fairly quickly, but the first two weeks I was an absolute mess.  Luckily, I wasn’t pregnant, never really felt that I was passionately in love with Hacking and have probably the best support system in the world.  …But I was still an absolute disaster.  (Again, lucky for me Bummer Bridget meant chain smoking plus Jack Daniels minus food and equaled the hottest I looked in a long time.)

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that as much as it sucked, I’m still super young and therefore it was not that traumatic. But what if it happens a decade or two from now?  Are you supposed to always plan on the ‘what if’s’ of being alone no matter what, or, do you trust completely and plan only for your significant other to be in your life?

I’m so incredibly happy you and Preston have each other and you’re completely confident and comfortable in your relationship and the love you have for each other, but do you have a back up?  Do you know what you would do if things went totally south?  Or do you not even think about it? 

Sorry for the plethora of questions… I guess I’m just curious when (if ever) I’ll be ready for a relationship.  Obviously, marriage is not a prospect for me at the time.  I definitely agree that The Asian could be the first down the aisle.  I must say, I’m very proud of our group of friends for ignoring the marriage pressure in the Salt Lake City area.  I’d say that over 80% of the people from my high school are married and most already have children.  Blech! 

In other news:  Remind me never to be trapped in a closed space (read: car, elevator, football stadium, city) with QDW and her ex.  My gawd.  I was trapped in the back seat of the ex’s car with him driving and QDW navigating.  Not only are they hella annoying (she has a different tone with him, a much higher pitched frequency of "babe") but she was giving directions (and seemed to have a problem knowing right from left).  Their disagreements, tiffs and general conversations had nothing to do with me, but I felt like I needed to pop an entire bottle of Xanax to be in their company.  I may have left claw marks on his leather seats.  Love him.  Love her.  But never again will I volunteer to be in their combined presence.  Here’s another question:  How can two totally awesome people be so incredibly awful together? 

Your Relationship Challenged and Quizzical Comrade,

Bridget

OhTen

Bridget,

You share your name with Bridget Moynahan. I feel bad for her because she always plays parts where she gets the shaft. In Sex and the City, Big cheats on her with Carrie.... In Serendipity, John Cusak leaves her at the altar for that lovable British stranger... In that one show, Tom Brady cheats on her after knocking her up then leaves her for a supermodel. She's like Ansiton, but unluckier. I hope she finds love.

Lucky for me, I've found love. It was really hard for me to write that just now given how cheesy it was, but I have a point.... Lucky for me, I've found love. And in the same way people are comfortable in their sexuality, I'm comfortable in my relationship. In the same way sexually comfortable effeminate men don't need to drive big trucks to prove their manly-ness, I don't need to get married to prove my in-love-edness. Preston and I are happy. We've been together for 4.4 years with no major problems. Like they say in the South, if it ain't broke, don't be goin' on fixin' it now, ya hear?! What I'm trying to say is, We'll get married last. If I've learned anything from my parents who have been married and divorced to each other twice and might even try for a third time, well I don't know. What do you learn from that?

As far as our friends are concerned, The Asian will definitely be the first gal down the aisle. This may be surprising considering she is the most single of all of us and has an affinity for NBA players and the BBD (BBD will not be on the TYMU list, I refuse to go there. Lets just say the first two letters might stand for Big and Black). But she's the fall hard super fast girl. If she meets someone this week, she'll be married by the summer. But she's our most hilarious and drama free friend and I wouldn't mind a June wedding (I look bangin' in pastels). I think she'll be the only friend to be married in 010. And for the record, yes, I say OhTen.

As far as our Marathon Relay goes, what the F did you get me in to?! I can't run 18 miles uphill. I ran LESS than two miles on the treadmill on Monday and I'm still sore. That's all I have to say about that.

Did you hear that John Mayer is a racist? He compared his wang to a white supremacist's. Why, John, why. Every time I think I like a celebrity they have to go ruin it with sh*t like this.

PS: Urban Dictionary Word of the Day: Redneck Teleprompter: Crib notes written on a public speaker's hand in order to remind him or her what to say during a speech or interview.

Love and Toyota Recalls,

Bianca......................!

After the Mermaid...

P.P.S. Here's what happened "after the mermaid." Yes, Bianca my dear, that's you, face down, in the peach dress. You successfully took out your two best friends ten feet from the hotel room. In exchange for an ugly bruise on my knee, I snapped a picture. You're welcome. I'm really surprised you didn't mess up the nose that Dr. Amir worked so hard to create.