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?

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Filed under Dramawhores, girls, Noncommittal, Roofie, Salt Lake City, Vacation, Vegas

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