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?

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

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.

Twenty Middle

Bestie Bianca,
 
I'm always surprised every time we survive a trip to Vegas.  I don't mean that I'm surprised that we make it out relatively unscathed, but literally, I'm surprised we are alive at the end of each debauchery packed weekend.
 
Most of the time I make it out of there with just a lighter pocketbook and a hangover, but this time, I left with a colorful bruise on my knee (thank you, Drunk Bianca), a speeding ticket and a hilarious new tattoo (the 4th graders are loving it, btw). Alas, Vegas left it's mark on me, but hey, we definitely left our mark on Vegas.
 
I still can't believe we missed our flight by just under 24 hours.  I'm also a little shocked that we haven't caught anymore grief from our ruthless friends and family.  We made a huge bonehead move and if it were anyone but us, I'd still be pointing and laughing. Ok, I'm pointing and laughing at us anyway.  
 
Two things I'd like to point out about our Vegas trip:
1- In your last email you said this (and I quote),  "I don't remember anything after the mermaid." Seriously, that may be the best Vegas quote ever, right behind, "Where's Doug?"
2- YOU DID NOT GET ROOFIED.  Bianca.  Every time you have a few too many pretty little cocktails (or shots of passion fruit (wtf?) vodka from mini bottles in bathroom stalls) you're immediately convinced you were roofied.  Roofied, you were not, mi amiga.  You did that to yourself, but I love you just the same, probably more.  I am glad you can remember the mermaid though, because that was hilarious.
 
Ah, reality.  I'm working a full week this week for the first time in about a month, but thank jeebus I get Monday off (schedule is one of the *only* perks in education).

My ambiguous pseudo relationship is going exceedingly well.  I'm pressing to keeps things noncommittal, but he's pushing back pretty hard.  It's cool though, I'm scrappy and I like a fight.  Dubiously monogamous is the new black, betches.

You're right about us turning Twenty Middle this year (scary?), and after that it's a quick Slip-N-Slide (see: excited for effing summer already) to thirty and all the DramaWhores are going to be in a race to the ring.  I think you're right though, one of the DWs must get engaged this year, but who will it be?  QDW? DWCapicorn? My bet is on one of our sorority sisters still living in the SLC area (any guess which one I'm thinking of?).  Not going to lie, I'm pushing for a Preston/Bianca engagement, just to prove you wrong.
 
Hey, ya know that Ragnar Race Thingy?  That crazy run people do from Logan to Park City?  187.9 miles spread across twelve team members? Remember how we just signed up for it?  Yeah.  What were we thinking?  How's your training going?  So far I can run two miles without crying (one glistening tear doesn't count, right?) and have a super cute outfit picked out for race day (translation:  supascrewed).
 
What are you and Presty-Poo doing for Valentine's Day? (Besides getting engaged? Hee hee.)
 
Worried About the TwentyTen Prius,
Bridget
 
P.S.  Are you really one of those a-holes that says 010 instead of twentyten or just plain old 10?

Salt Lake to Vegas, please! ...What do you mean that was yesterday?

Things You Must Understand (TYMU):
QDW= Our BFF, The Queen of All Drama Whores who joined us in Vegas last weekend.
BFF: Broad (who loves) Full Frontal

Bridget,
 
Welcome back from a long debaucherous weekend in Sin Citttay! I'm sorry this e-mail is a day late, but I am still hung-over(**). I still can't believe the weekend we had. I've tried telling the story but people just think I'm lying (#).
 
Highlights of the trip according to ME:
 
Missing the flight by an entire day.
Why it rocked: QDW, you, and I, waking up at 5:00a.m. dressed to the nines for a glamorous day of shopping and drinking but instead choking down a hard dose of reality that we missed our flight. I love when the sky cab lady said, "How many girls does it take to get to the airport on the right day?... Obviously more than three... your flight was yesterday. Go inside, I can't help you." Then quickly scrambling for plan B considering the rest of the weekend was paid for...

Renting a one-way rental car for an impromptu roadtrip.
Why it rocked: Trying to explain to Budget Rent-a-car why we needed a one-way Hyundai. I'm pretty sure that she still doesn't understand. I especially enjoyed our road-convos that consisted of shmashmortions, why the men QDW have slept with don't count, hallucinogenic drugs and why we should never do them, and how we would have no friends if we had our own reality show. Which is a topic I will discuss in greater detail some other time when I can actually function (see (**)).

You getting pulled over.
Why it rocked: Our cop had a walrus mustache, smelled like moth balls, laughed at our jokes, and more importantly responded "absolutely" when I asked him if we could take a picture with him. After all of those laughs we shared, he still gave you a ticket for going 90. I'm pretty sure he fell asleep with the vision of a foursome that night. (Gross... I crossed the line. I'm sorry.)

Getting upgraded to a suite.
Why it rocked: Duh.
 
Getting roofied again (see (#)).
Why it rocked: It totally didn't. I don't remember anything after the mermaid, I couldn't function on Sunday, and now there are pictures that will live in infamy forever.
 
You and QDW getting tattoos.
Why it rocked: Those tattoos are hilarious! Totally un-meaningful. QDW got a tattoo in a place you can't see, and is still freaking out. Not that I'm one to talk.... I have only my ears pierced and have made love to only one penis, I’m the least hard core, but that’s how Preston likes it.

Having a priceless (yet super expensive) weekend in Vegas.
Why it rocked: From what I can remember.... we had a MF blast and were for the most part treated like celebrities!  Free champagne?  Yes, please!  VIP Section? You know it!  Waiting in line and paying a cover?  Wouldn’t think of it! Who knew three Salt Lake City girls would be such a big deal in Vegas?
 
Back to reality. 
How is the ambiguous pseudo relationship? What is the *wink wink* timeline? (I hope you know that wink wink implies sex.)

On a completely irrelevant side note:  We turn Twenty Middle this year. One of the DWs has to at least get engaged in 010 if not married. This is the age that women start to freak out about being single, especially our friends (who have been freaking out about needing a plus one since their first communion). I need your thoughts on this. 
 
Peace, Love and Liberals, 
 
B to the i to the a-n-c-a.