What’s in the Water?

My girlfriends and I are in that time of our lives where everyone we know is getting engaged and married. In our group, The Fab Five, two out of the five of us are already married, but now everyone else is getting engaged, except for the three of us left. We were talking about this the other day when one of the girls, A, said her little sister, who is also engaged, told her that her friend got engaged. I responded saying one of my little sister’s friends just got engaged too, and A asked if there was something in the water? This is when it got funny. After A asked that question my roomie chimed in with, “Can I have some of that water?!” T (who we are all certain is next to get engaged, we are just trying to figure out when) said, “It’s not in the water, I drink a ton of water and I’m still not even close!” Thinking along these lines I realized that I like barely drink water in general, but I am trying to drink it more. I responded, “I never drink enough water, I am never getting married!”, and the conversation went on:

Roomie: “Well there is no hope for me.”

T: “Maybe that is why I’ve been so dehydrated lately!”

Roomie: “I must be dead then!”

T: “I’m so dehydrated that I’m the raisin that everyone leaves behind in the trail mix.”

Me: “You are not a rain T! You are a cashew that everyone wants first!”

Rereading our conversation I realize how crazy we are, but it was just so funny! We will all get to that engaged point eventually, but until then, we will be drinking tons of water!

Stay hydrated ladies!

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Water 1

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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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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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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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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Sunday Brunch

Today my four friends and I, we call ourselves the fab 5, had a Sunday Brunch. We all met up at one of their apartments at 11:45 and were all drunk within an hour resulting in us devouring an entire box of wheat thins, a tray of bear claws, a box of waffles, and eggs and bacon. The culprit of this binge eating fest I’m pretty sure was from the five of us polishing off three bottles of champagne (yet not even finishing half of the gallon of orange juice), two pitchers of this amazing concoction I made with lemonade, sprite, red moscato, and dragonberry Bacardi, and a half bottle of wine. Needless to say, we were bombed. If it wasn’t obvious by all the bottles and food out, you could sure tell when all the “I love you”s came out and we kept group hugging. Eventually we all started to fall asleep so I figured I should sober up to drive. My roomie is not in as good of shape as me. She told me, like she has many times before, to not let her drink that much next time, as she holds the side of the couch “spinning”.IMG_2493.JPG

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Tragic Trippin

About a week ago I got to get dressed up with my four girlfriends, we call ourselves the Fab Five, and we went to support our sorority as respected alumnae at their philanthropy event: Theta Beta’s Sigma Kappa Ultra Violet Casino Night. It was fun to go to but the part we loved the most was dressing up, as usual. One of my girls and I are pretty much known as legends in our sorority, not to toot our own horn but toot-toot, because I was President and she was Executive Vice President and we made an amazing team together. I am not over exaggerating either, one of the girls told my dad this at Casino Night. Anyways after a night of faux blackjack and we felt that we had made a long enough appearance and took the appropriate amount of cute pictures in front of the letters, we left for the next portion of the night.

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We were all going to head to a bar in the next city over but first I had to go pick up my boyfriend from daycare, aka- friends house where I dropped him off to watch the USC vs. UCLA game. As expected he was drunk already and by the time we made it to the bar he was asleep in the car. He woke right up though and was ready for a drink. We got inside and found the girls whose boyfriends and one husband also met up. My boyfriend asked what I wanted to drink and I said a Dirty Shirley which he responded to quite loudly that I wanted a whore. Like I said, he was drunk. One of the other girls had one and it was a nice small drink which was perfect because I was driving. Finally when he turned around with my drink it was in a straight up goblet. I asked him what he ordered?! He said that he told the bartender that he wanted a Dirty Shirley and to make her dirty, which is why I am assuming she gave him a giant one. There was no way I was going to be able to drink all of it and drive home so it became a group thing with my roomie and one of the other girls.

Dirty Shirley

After drinking my very Dirty Shirley we decided it was time to go as did everyone else. We would all see each other the next day anyways for our Friendsgiving. I drove my boyfriend and I back to my place, where he sat in the back so he could pretend I was a chauffeur, and he fell asleep again. By this time I had been in my heels for hours and my feet were in pain so I was so happy to finally be home. We were almost there, almost to the door when it happened. Mayday-mayday I was going down and I couldn’t stop it. My heel went on a wet leaf, which then slid into the drain in the parking lot and I ate it. I couldn’t catch my balance because I was holding my purse and another bag so I went right down on my knee. The drunk, non-helping boyfriend laughed and then asked if I was okay, and then laughed again. Bruised and bleeding, I would be the SOBER one who falls down. Typical Tragic Girl.

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