Style

Tragic Fashion- Basics & Statements

If it’s one thing that us Tragic Girls are not tragic at, its fashion. We can both probably thank the fact that we both worked seven plus years in retail. Although I am finally out, my roomie is still in, and even though I’m out, that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving fashion. It’s a little obsession of mine. Okay I lied, it’s a huge obsession. I’m a huge shopaholic, of reasonably priced clothes though because let’s face it, us Tragic Girls are poor girls. I have this issue where I hate wearing an outfit more than once. Unless it’s a good outfit, that’s not something that stands out in your memory too much, and something I didn’t take a picture in, will I wear it again. If I do wear the outfit again I try to change it up a bit. To help this issue of mine, I’ve been investing a lot in basics. Not only are they essential for your wardrobe, but they are also very versatile pieces.
My recent pieces have been the basic tees and tanks from Target. I like these because the tees are boyfriend v-necks, so they aren’t tight, and the tanks are thick strapped like a muscle tank but without the ridges. Another plus is that the most they cost are $7-$10 which isn’t bad. Anyways I have been pairing these with all sorts of things like blazers, cardigans, chambray tops, scarves, and statement necklaces. I have worn these tops so many times yet every time is different.

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Tragic events

Quarter of a Century Celebration

This past Saturday, the 7th, it was my 25th birthday, as I said in my short previous post Birthday Preview. The plan was that my boyfriend, the Fab Five plus one husband and one date, the Quad Pod (which consists of myself, two sisters, and my best friend), and my sisters boyfriend were all going to the bars in downtown Huntington Beach. It was a perfect plan because my boyfriend lives about four miles from Main Street. Side note: speaking about my boyfriend, he did an amazing job with my birthday present! He got me a silver infinity necklace with diamonds on it, and guess where it was from?… JARED! I about died. I made the half joke that he wants to be with me forever because he gave me an infinity sign. He stared at me and said, “That’s what that means? Where’s the receipt!?” I just rolled my eyes at him.

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Anyways, everyone met down at his apartment around 5. We hung out and drank for a couple hours then headed downtown to eat and start the night. We piled into two cars. The plan was to leave them down there and take a cab back. Dinner was amazing at Aloha Grill, mostly for the rainbows. A rainbow is this amazing drink that consists of about six different slushy type drinks with ten different alcohols. Yes we counted off the menu. These drinks were a good kick start to our buzz. Dinner was great, but then I took a bite of my roomie’s chili cheese fries and dropped one down the front of my top, which was white of course. I literally drenched the whole front of my top in the restroom with cold water to try to get the chili out. It faded for the most part, but now I had a wet, white shirt…great.

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When dinner was done we headed to the first actual bar. It was an Irish pub type bar my boyfriend likes, called Killarney’s, because it has cheap drinks and apparently no matter how drunk you are, they will let you stumble on is anyways. This is where it started. I started off cool with a cranberry vodka. We were all just gathered around a table talking. Then my best friend orders her, my sisters, and myself a shot. It was a “Washington Apple” and was pretty good aside from the fact that it burned. Not too long later we had ANOTHER shot, this time a “Cactus Cooler”. Those are really good. Need I remind you all though as I have said in previous posts, I don’t really drink that often (#twototipsy), and I was now a pregame drink, a large, ten alcohol full rainbow, a cranberry vodka, and two shots in. This was almost three times my two drink limit.

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Everyone else was starting to get drunk too, especially my little sister. These two guys were talking to the girls in our group, not in a creepy way at all though, they seemed enjoyable. One asked my name and I told them it was Brittany. He couldn’t hear me so he thought I said Becky. I tried to correct him and he still couldn’t hear so he said he was just going to call me Becky. My intoxicated self thought it was funny, but my intoxicated little sister did not take this lightly. She retorted, “No,” With her wait a minute finger stance, “Her name is Brittany and you will call her by her real name.” BOOM. We all just stared and laughed. The guy tried a lame pick up line on one of the girls and they said to try it on my little sister and he said, “No she is aggressive.” Who knew my little sister was feisty while drinking. Give her a few and she becomes a women’s rights activist. VOTES FOR WOMEN!
Eventually we were done being Irish and left the pub for another bar. **Just a side note for the whole night, my ID expired on my birthday and I renewed it four weeks prior and it still didn’t come and STILL hasn’t, resulting in me having to use my passport to get into the bars which holds one of the worst pictures of my entire life. No exaggeration, I wore a thick white headband and the background was white so half of my head looks like it is missing, and they stretched it so I look fat.** Okay back to the story, we ended up at our next, and turned out last stop Black Bull. This worked out because my boyfriend wanted us to end up here eventually because it’s so big. Our group split up here because us girls wanted to dance. My older sister bought me a rum and coke which was disgusting. She brought it back to the bar and asked for more coke in it. I am such a weenie. By this point I wasn’t really dancing, just more white girl swaying I would say since my coordination was diminishing by the minute. Suddenly this guy out of no where comes in front of me and started trying to grind on me. I literally just stood there and stared at him. When he turned to look at me his face dropped and he said I’m sorry and walked away. I felt bad, the poor guy was so embarrassed and ran away with his tail between his legs.

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Still on the dance floor, it was starting to get pretty packed, and a guy bumped me and spilt a tiny bit of his drink on my back. I tried to wipe it and here came my little activist sister with an, “Um excuse me, did you just spill on her? It is her birthday!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she could say more. After my rum and coke, one of the girls bought me ANOTHER drink. This one was my favorite though, a Dirty Shirley, as I’ve mentioned in one of my previous blogs, Tragic Trippin. After this I was done. All I wanted was a water. We met up with the rest of the group and I found an empty booth and just sat there chasing the straw in my cup of water with my mouth, trying to take a drink. My roomie, best friend, and I practiced the buddy system and went to the bathroom, where one of them got sick (don’t worry girls I won’t say who). When we came out last call was ready and the lights were on. Naturally we started singing “Closing Time”. I went back to my seat of confined, drunken, death and waited for everyone to want to leave. I wanted nothing more than to be in bed.
Finally we left, got two cabs, and drove home. We were so close, almost home with no incidents until, my best friend. How I love her so much, while walking through the apartment parking lot almost home free, she trips over her own feet and just falls on her knees. My sister and her boyfriend drag her back to her feet and we make it home. I got straight in my pjs, washed my face, drank water and Gatorade, threw up, and went right to bed before anyone else.

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The morning was terrible in one of those swear you’re never going to drink again moments. People started waking up and all I wanted was for them to shut up. My head felt like someone was punching me from the inside. My boyfriend brought me a Gatorade, which I drank and promptly threw up. My sister asked if I wanted food and I asked for a tortilla. A plain tortilla was all I wanted. I ate that, drank more Gatorade, took aspirin and went back to sleep. The rest of the gang went to brunch at Fred’s, that I was supposed to meet them at, but never did. They had to get the cars still so they thought it was a good idea to walk to brunch. It was only a little less than three miles and it was a nice day. They regretted that decision when it turned out it was over four miles. I finally decided I could get up so I got ready and cleaned up the kitchen and living room. By the time they got back I was actually alive again, and all those thoughts about never drinking again were diminishing.

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Tragic Shorts

A Tragic Short- Near Death by Floss

My roomie and I have a dentist phobia. We both didn’t go for a shameful amount of time that I will not share. We only told each other because it was the same for both of us. Anyways we both finally went. Her visit was far more traumatizing than mine because she had to get a root canal, while I only had two beginnings of cavities. The dentist didn’t have to numb me to fill them. Since then we have both been trying to do the whole dentist routine like flossing. We started, then stopped of course. Tonight though I’d thought I’d floss because I haven’t in awhile. This was literally just five minutes ago and it was a tragic experience. I started flossing and I got to my third spot, my front two teeth. The floss went up with a struggle, but wouldn’t come back down. When I tried to pull it down my gums just started gushing blood. I started panicking. All these thoughts came rushing in my head that I was going to break my teeth or they were going to fall out! This tiny string of fibers was going to break my teeth! OH MY GOD! My roomie saw the look of panic on my face and asked if I was okay. The only way to get the floss out was to pull the whole strand through my teeth. I threw it away and didn’t even finish flossing, I was too scared. I told my roomie I was about to have her cut it out of my teeth. She told me she would do it because she is good in emergencies.

That’s love right there, a roomie that will cut floss out of your teeth when it gets stuck. Love you!

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The Fab Five

The Fab Five

I realized that I have been mentioning the Fab Five often and will continue to more, so I think some introductions are in order. Incase you haven’t figured it out yet if you follow my blogs, the Fab Five are all sorority sisters. The group consists of myself, my roomie, or H, A, T, and K. I know initials may be hard to follow but bare with me. So the group started off with A, K, and myself. We all joined Sigma Kappa first as freshmen and got pretty close, especially A and I. We were mistaken as twins a lot because we were always together and apparently looked alike. Two years later we got H (my roomie), and a semester later we got T. At this point we weren’t a group yet, but the universe was working. I was the current president and elections were coming up. No one was running against me so I knew I would be president again. A was running for Executive Vice President, which obviously she would get. It was meant to be, and we were the best team, girls still talk about it today and we have been out for almost three years. K got Vice President of Alumnae Relations, H got Vice President of Finance, and T got Panhellenic Delegate. This is when everything started happening. We ran our chapter and made it amazing. We were leaders. In spring of 2012 we graduated and got closer, now more than ever. Calling ourselves the Fab Five was kind of a joke, but it has stuck and now other girls from our chapter know us as that. We all talk everyday in a group message, hang out constantly, and now each host Sunday Brunch once a month taking turns at each of our apartments. Even all of our boyfriends, and now husbands to A and K, are friends. It’s actually pretty amazing having a group of friends like this, we all support each other so much and there is never a dull moment.

A– She is one of the classiest girls we have all met, and she is beautiful. Being called her twin is such a big compliment to me. She is always so put together. When she lets loose though it’s so fun and reminds her she is just like us. She was also the first to get married this past August.

Me (aka: B)- I am the one they always want to get drunk and make me let loose because I never do. Until recently I was always the one working, but now I have a regular job. I am also apparently the dainty one. My boyfriend is the unlikely one who we all knew of in college because he was in one of the fraternities.

K– She is the innocent one and we love it. She also doesn’t drink much like myself, so it’s fun to get her to let loose too. K just got married this month. She is a beauty with a big booty.

H (aka: Roomie)- She is obviously my roomie and amazing. She is our little chihuahua and will tell off anyone who messes with any of us. We are in pursuit of finding her a man right now.

T– She is the one friend in the group who will say what everyone else was thinking but is too scared to say. She and H are feisty when they are together. She has a boyfriend too and is most likely the next to get engaged.

The five of us together make a fabulous group. Everything that makes us different mixes so well together. Now that you know who is who, stay tuned for more stories.

-Stay Fabulous

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The Fab Five, Tragic Shorts

A Tragic Short- Creepin

Here’s to the guy who tried so hard to dance with my roomie when we went to down town Fullerton for her birthday the other Saturday. I am not a fan of down town Fullerton and this weekend did not convince me otherwise, but there was some good entertainment. There we were in bar, and us girls, the usual Fab Five plus a couple more, were dancing on the dance floor while the boyfriends were posted up at the bar keeping an eye on us. As I was looking back from checking where the boys were, I saw him. He was dancing alone, which I guess wouldn’t be so weird except for the fact that he was really alone. He was just grooving all by himself with his long, greasy hair, leather jacket, harem pants, and combat boots. It was quite the ensemble. I noticed this guy getting closer and closer to my roomie, who was pretty tipsy by this point. We could all tell that he wanted to dance with her, but she kept putting her back to him because even slightly intoxicated, her inhibitions told her that this guy was weird. She made it obvious she didn’t want to dance.
Finally this guy got brave and got in front of my roomie. She didn’t know what to do with this confrontation so she kept dancing. Suddenly he picked her up, put her legs around him, and bent her over and started grinding, conveniently holding her up with his hands under her butt. None of us knew what to do so we just stared. He brought her back up and she looked so shocked and we all started laughing. T being her usual self, pulls her phone out and asked him if he could do it again. With no hesitation he grabs my roomie again and picks her up while T snaps pictures. It had to be the funniest and boldest thing we had seen. We promptly left soon after that leaving the guy behind wondering what he did wrong.

He moved so fast that these were the only pictures we got…

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The Fab Five, Tragic Shorts

A Tragic Short- Keep Your Heels On

Rule number one: YOU DO NOT TAKE YOUR HEELS OFF! Classy girls keep their heels on. Just like when T and I walked 0.6 miles in Pasadena in our heels like I talked about in the last post. We were at K’s wedding this past Saturday and it was dancing time.

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We were all a tad intoxicated. Side note: I highly suggest to NOT mix tequila, vodka, wine, and champagne all in the same night. I was not feeling too hot yesterday. But that is neither here nor there, this tragic short is about A. A is probably one of the classiest girls we all know, yet she is the one who takes her heels off. She took her heels off at her bachelorette party and walked the streets of down town Palm Springs barefoot. Saturday she took her heels off and went back on the dance floor. Mind you she only does this when she is drunk, yet she still shines with class. Here is to A!

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The Fab Five, Tragic events

Bach•Bash

Our group of five just recently celebrated our second bachelorette party. The second out of the five of us is getting married in a week.

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The first bachelorette party was in Palm Springs, this one was in Pasadena. We started the day off with a pole dancing class. That is so hard. I was sore for almost five days and my feet still have bruises on the tops of them. We thought we were doing good until the instructor told us to watch our faces. Our concentration on trying to make our awkward bodies sexy resulted in very ugly faces. They were a mix of concentration and pain. Honestly how can you make a “sexy push-up” sexy? Sexy or not, it’s still a push up, and your knees are digging into wood floor. We looked like five unsexy girls, with no athletic strength, whose faces looked like we smelled something weird. Nevertheless it was fun and an awesome workout.

After pole dancing we drove down to Pasadena. My roomie is in the wedding so she was in charge of the balloons for the pole dancing class. We had to bring the balloons to the hotel next, so she and I drove from Chino Hills to Pasadena with twelve balloons in the backseat. Not only were the balloons obstructing her vision of driving, her passenger side mirror is shattered from someone hitting it and leaving. I had to be her eyes for her to get into the lanes on my side. The balloons kept creeping up to the front seat and trying to stick to our hair. So there we were, driving half blind, with a car full of balloons, and both of our hair sticking up on end. Again, we were pretty sexy.

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By the time we got to Pasadena we were dying from malnourishment since we had only breadsticks all day, and the smell of the balloons was making us sick. I googled a McDonalds because it is fast and cheap. Perfect! It was literally a mile away… Okay we should be pulling up on it right now… It should be on this corner… Why is there just a big building on this corner… GOOGLE LIED! We both felt like vomiting by this time and dinner wasn’t for another two and a half hours. Next I looked up a Burger King. This one was a little over a mile away. We were so scared that it wasn’t going to be there anymore too. We found it though! We saw the big sign of the BK Lounge. I got a double cheese burger and she got a ten piece chicken nugget. We literally moaned after every bite. It was one of the best meals we had ever had. Instantly I felt better and ready to take on the night.

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We found the hotel and got ready and all that. Luckily we were all in the same room minus the bride. Dinner was good at Pops Champagne Bar where my roomie and I successfully finished a full bottle of wine together. After dinner was the usual bar hopping and DDing (Dancing and Drinking). At last it was 2 A.M. and the last call already passed. It was time to go back to the hotel. We looked up where we were, only 0.6 miles from the hotel. One of the girls asked if we should call a cab. One of the other girls, T, and I looked at each other and both said no it’s not that far, we can walk and make it (clearly we were both broke and didn’t want to pay for a cab). Half way into this journey back to the hotel, T and I were dying. All the other girls had comfy heels except for her and I. Our pumps were killing us. She wanted to take hers off and I told her no! Just like she told that last bride, A, at her bachelorette, we are better than that! WE DO NOT TAKE OUR SHOES OFF! She and I just walked slow behind the rest of the girls. Eventually we kept getting farther and farther behind. We were down to practically a crawl. The other girls stopped and waited for us. They started cheering us on like we were running a marathon and were almost to the finish line. We felt like crying our feet hurt so bad. The hotel was in view though. The second we walked into the lobby we kicked our shoes off. It was the second time I was in heaven that night, first a burger, now walking barefoot in the Hilton lobby.
It was time for bed. We got in pjs and drank some water and Gatorade to avoid a hang over and in minutes the lights were out. About a half hour later I heard a weird noise. I was sleeping next to my roomie and asked what it was, she didn’t know. It kind of sounded like a wrapped. All of a sudden I heard a cork pop, then someone drinking from the bottle. I looked up and saw A putting the bottle down and get back into bed and fall asleep. What the heck! In the morning I asked her if she remember popping bottles in her sleep and she had no idea!
All in all, the trip was a success. Two bachelorette parties down, three to go. May the tragicness continue and get better with each one.

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