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.