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.