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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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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PMS- Psycho, Mad, Sad

Us girls all know that when you hang out with your girlfriends often, you all start to get on the same track, do you know what I mean? Eventually all of your special girl times will be right around the same time, especially if you’re roommates. My roomie and I are right on schedule with each other. It was so funny because last month our group of five, aka- the Fab 5, all of us and our boys got together for “Friendsgiving” and literally all of us were on our time of the month. One of the girl’s husbands heard and said, “Oh my god you girls are all PMSing together!” His wife quickly corrected him saying PMS is pre and we are passed that part, to which he responded, “Fine then you are all MSing together.” Boys logic.

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Anyways we are about in the pre time again and my roommate and I were texting back and forth today about how we were sad for no real reasons. She was saying how she is the only one without a guy and I had this absurd idea that my boyfriend didn’t even like me anymore. I mean he didn’t even text me back for like two and a half hours. I soon found out that he was in a meeting with his district manager. I then realized that I needed to snap out of my little funk because I was being a typical girl. PMS should really stand for Psycho, Mad, Sad because that is literally our cycle that recurs again and again until our time is up. We will be perfectly normal, then we will get a psycho girl thought like our boyfriend isn’t texting us back because he doesn’t like us anymore, then we get mad at our boyfriends for not texting us back, then we get really sad that he doesn’t like us anymore. After this cycle we calm down when we find out he was in a work meeting the whole time and are calm until the next incident sets us off.

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I was watching a comedian on Netflix the other night with my boyfriend and he said that girls are like rescued dogs and they need to keep them calm or they will get set off. I thought that was really funny because it is kind if true. We are not crazy, we just get an excuse to be psycho for a week without getting institutionalized. Boys it is best to just do what we say and get us chocolate and tell us that we are pretty.

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PMS-Psycho, Mad, Sad PMS-Psycho, Mad, Sad PMS-Psycho, Mad, Sad….. Okay I’m happy now.

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.

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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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You’re My Best Friend… On Snapchat

A huge app that many people have and enjoy today is Snapchat. This app is used for many different reasons, but I won’t go into that. Use your imagination. For my girlfriends and I, we use it to amuse ourselves and pass time at work. For example, sending five snaps in a row of yourself making different faces just to make sure we understand how bored you are. Sometimes my sisters and I will even have a competition back and forth of who can have the most chins. You know, all in good fun.

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The makers of Snapchat added what they thought was a great feature: Snapchat Best Friends. This is convenient when you always send snaps to the same three people. You don’t have to scroll down and find their names every time, they are right there on top. You can even tap on your friend’s names and see who their three best friends are. What a great idea! Let me check how many people’s best friend list I am on. Of course I am one of my boyfriend’s, he just loves me.

Wait.

Hang on…

Who is XOHotMama and why the hell is she one of my boyfriend’s best friends?!

Who has been asked by their boyfriend or girlfriend who their Snapchat Best Friends were? My boyfriend asked me as a joke but I think there was some real curiosity behind it. He told me that I had more guys than girls as my best friends. After he said that I told him that one was gay and the other was my niece’s dad. His only response was “oh”. I have had a few friends though where a real argument started over who they were snap chatting. This comes down to whether or not you trust your boyfriend or girlfriend. Especially with the reputation associated with Snapchat since the photos delete after you open them.

I am not saying that Snapchat is a bad thing. I use it all the time. I just think that it is interesting how another part of social media can have such an effect on our relationships.

Tragic Titles

Continuing on with my psycho girl discussion, let’s talk about titles, as in relationship titles. Why is it that whether or not having a title on our relationships affects how psycho we are? I experienced this before my boyfriend made us official, my BFFFF experienced it with her old guy, and my roomie is now currently experiencing it. This is a common phenomenon which actually made me feel better about my own psycho thoughts knowing that it happens to others. I realized that when there is no title girls feel no security. Sure you can be “exclusive” and only be dating each other, but that title makes a huge difference for girls. Without it we get those thoughts that yes he is dating me, but what if an opportunity arises with another girl and he thinks “hmmm we technically aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.” We have all had those thoughts. Please do not forget that that is the crazy talking.

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It really is amazing how much of a difference a title can make. It changes the “he is not texting me back. What is he doing? Is he with another girl? Is he getting drunk around other girls?” into “my boyfriend isn’t texting me back because he is probably playing his video game,” like mine is doing right now. As girls we are possessive. We want him to be ours and we want to know that he is ours. We don’t want to deal with the guessing of whether or not he is ours. I hate the whole “What are we?” thoughts. When you are in that part of your relationship everyone seems to remind you that you aren’t official by asking you every time they see you, “is he your boyfriend yet?”, “are you two official yet?” You are only stressing your fellow sister out with these questions. This stage is awkward enough to be in, especially with introductions. What are you supposed to say, “um hi, this is the guy I am dating but he isn’t my boyfriend yet Dave.” The guys don’t know how to introduce you either so they go with what they think is right which is actually totally wrong and sends girls spiraling into an internal psycho tantrum by saying, “Hey this is my friend Jen.” FRIEND?! Oh no he did not just call you his friend. Honestly he doesn’t mean it like that, but he has no clue what he just started in your head which will potentially be an argument later on of you telling him that he just considers you friends, and he will not even remember the event of introducing you as that.

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Ladies as much as you can, try to keep the crazy in of how you feel not having a title. If you want that title he cannot know how psycho you are. Remember, let a little psychoness out at a time, guys cant handle it all at once. As for the title, don’t let it stress you out more than it should. Sure it’s okay to stress out about it if you’ve been dating forever and he hasn’t made it official. Sometimes guys just don’t realize that they are slacking. This is when you can let a little smidgen of psycho show and have the “what are we?” talk. This way you either corner him into making you his girlfriend, or you’ll know if that is even his intention or if you are wasting your time. Be strong girls and be openly psycho in small doses.