Well it is official. I read it in OK Magazine today. Bella and Edward, a.k.a Rob and Kristen, are finally in love. And after that amazing almost kiss on the awards, who would not believe it? I mean between OK and the definitely-not-acting-moment of the night, it has to be true!! I mean who would not be in love right? He spends his nights drinking and has to be ordered by his "bosses on the set" that he cannot go out and play anymore and she is arrested for smoking pot. I may be sounding annoyed again but their true life love is ruining my thoughts of love ever after. I mean that are nothing like our little American Sweetheart family run by the ever in love John and Kate. Seriously, when are we going to find a couple we can just love and enjoy watching again? Would some famous people please find yourselves in a cert-encounter so I can enjoy my 'check out aisle smut' again??
So I totally had a wicked bad dream last night.
In this wild bedtime story, I was flying to Europe with my significant other, when I realized that I didn't bring my wallet! Well, with that situation being bad enough (what with having no money and all), I was going to solve all my problems by whipping out my iphone. I was going to look up my bank account number to get some money transferred to a bank I would locate via Google Maps (because of course they have Bank of Americas in Paris!). Then something truly horrifying happened. I realized I didn't bring my iPhone either! And I was absolutely DEVASTATED! Then I went into total panic mode and actually ended up waking myself up. But really, is my addiction so formidable that I'm driving myself into a nervous coronary because I didn't have my sacred iPhone with me?
What is it about this reliance upon technology? I can't even remember the last time I cracked open the city map I bought for my car before my phone - purchased after getting lost for the umpteenth time. I don't bother to ever ask for directions, or think I can survive an entire night without checking my email. I don't even worry about getting internet service to my apartment because practically everything I would possibly need to do is capable through my iPhone. Facebok? check. Movie times? check. Random factoid via Safari? check. It's absurd how vastly I rely on that tiny piece of technology. And how utterly disappointed I am whenever it fails me. My life revolves around this thing, I mean, I'm having nightmares about living without it!
So the next time anyone asks the question on whether the iPhone is truly the best smartphone out there, I will give my very emphatic YES! I know I've blogged on its glories before, but today I truly realized just how integrated this little baby is in my life. I'll never forsake it!
Yes it's been a month since our last post. To our defense we have been working on pulling off the first bridal fair in the East Dallas region, Lakeside Bridal Fair in Rockwall. And as many of you know, anything preceded by the word "bridal" makes it one thousand times more difficult than it actually should be! But with that madhouse now behind us (for now) we are back to our regularly blog-casting schedule.
So the worst has happened. Yes indeed. My AT&T wireless stick has failed me on so, so many levels. I did not realize upon purchase that the stick comes with a usage limit of 5gb. Which to some of you may seem like a lot, but as a web developer who uploads and downloads files in the 1gb range, that usage is swiftly depleted. I actually used my entire month of April in one day! Alas, it was not meant to be. Star crossed lovers we have been, and the stick has gone the way of Romeo. Ill-fated suicide.
The plus side is that when I realized it would not be suiting my needs I promptly called AT&T to see if I could get out of the contract cancellation fee as I was only a few days over the deadline. Not only did they accommodate me there, they also offered to waive my overage fees! I have yet to finesse that part of the deal as i just received the bill, but this is service above and beyond what I expected. They have been very generous and understanding with the fact that the usage would not be enough to serve my vast purposes. So, if in the future they offer to up the limits, I will most certainly be interested in reinvesting in the contract. It was a great little sucker on the go. It just didn't pack enough punch to keep me workin. So now I sit in E's house hogging her wifi with iTunes downloads...
- B
So it seems E and I have a slightly unhealthy infatuation with this phenomenon called Twilight. It can't be helped, Edward and Bella live under our skin and take over our minds. And the fact that we get to look forward to this besotted bliss for another three years until the final movie is released makes us tremble with glee.
E, die hard that she is, downloaded the movie on iTunes the moment it was released. I myself was enjoying the sweet nothingness of nature by camping where technology was a complete nonentity. While E was bragging that she avoided the Wal-Mart waiting lists and crowds by downloading, I was soaking up the sun to create the beautiful pink patterns of peeling skin. Yet it was Target who avenged my injured pride!
Yes, Target, Holiest of All-Purpose Stores. I bow down to your absolute dominance of all things Wal-Mart. My tactic was to find the store located in the least desirable spot in town, and I successfully located the practically untouched display the moment I entered the store. After a quick trip down the food aisles to pick up some groceries to make Italiano as the Cullens did for Bella in the movie, I proceeded to check out and head to my car with my prize. Yet I had no idea of what I would find inside this Cracker Jack of never-ending possibility! The case not only held three disks of wonderment, but a coupon for the exact same content downloadable from iTunes! With exclusive Target features! I was beside myself with excitement, and proceeded to call E to rub in my superiority. Not only will I have a hard copy, I'll have the movie downloaded to my computer with all the extra content at my fingertips! Sheer bliss, I tell you. More satisfying than a Snickers.
- B
After all the ruckus about the bachelor and his big public breakup, (which btw I along with everyone else on this planet thinks he needs to be taken outside and beaten with a rubber hose) I have to bring another tragedy to light. It really does break my heart that Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer will no longer be gracing the covers of Okay and Star Magazine as lovebirds. I really thought these two could make it. I liked them together too. But what is it with this Jennifer? Why can't she keep love?
Is she happy about these breakups? She never seems to reveal an emotion or response about her love life ending. Is she too sweet and this bad boys just can't handle that saccharine sweetness? Or is this just a shiny veneer on the outside and something men just don't want to keep long term? I don't know what it is. But it does make me sad that one of the most beautiful women in the world, once again loses one of the most beautiful men. Sad, sad, sad.
Or is it?
-E
Can my heart share two loves? Is it even possible? I certainly hope so, because recently a new gadget has entered my horizon. And it even comes from the same family as the iPhone, my new AT&T wireless internet usb. Oh yes, now I have the internet everywhere! (except my apartment for some reason, but I'm working on that)
This little sucker is no joke. I tested it out right after I bought it and was chatting on Facebook while stuck in traffic. Then I uploaded a website from City Hall in Royse City (aka Podunk, Texas). Then I worked while in the passenger seat being driven all over Dallas. Seriously, I'm in love! Now I can indulge every workaholic fantasy! I can finally go to my boyfriend's apartment and not have to use bootleg wireless from his neighbor. I can take my computer with me when carpooling to lunch and leave the office half an hour earlier. The possibilities are endless! At least, somewhat endless. There is that one caveat that signal seems to die within 100 feet of my own abode. But whatevs. Now I have the excuse to walk to the coffee shop up the street when I work from home and get out in the sunshine. Or work from my balcony. Whichever.
-B
In my entire life I do not think that I have ever counted down the days to anything as important and glorious as the Twilight DVD release. Today marks the 13 days (superstitious anyone?) till that little sleeve of pure bliss enters my home.
I can hardly wait for it and the things we'll do, oh the things we'll do... We have been trying to plan the perfect moment to bring Edward home. How should we celebrate the big moment? A simple gathering of girls at B's place full of food and drink or should we do it up right and head to a swanky hotel where we watch, cry, drink and watch all over again? The options are limitless. I think that I have poured more time into this than my blessed wedding. (where I'll have you know I married the other most perfect man on earth!- that's how I feel this week, ask me again in a month and see if the answer is the same!)
Oh the questions that rumble around in my head on what to do. I think the pressure is so strong because it is not everyday you bring home the perfect, even if he is dead, man. This takes timing and lots of planning. After all, it is the most awaited moment in history!
-E
So the polls are open, anyone have any ideas?
Yes, I am a girl in love. Sweet, all-consuming, devoted love. If I could legitimately wed a piece of technology, my iPhone would be it. Rarely do I abandon it to the depths of my purse, it's never far from the palm of my hand. Oh, iPhone, how I love thee, let me count the ways!
* You never leave me hanging in a conversation. All my dirty sweet texts from my sexy little boy toy are stored in the depths of your electric brain. I can scroll back through the history of our relationship any time I need a pick me up when I'm feeling horny blue.
* You got me employed. Storing my portfolio images in your touch screen beauty was the best move I ever made. So when I met my boss for the first time (skinny dipping, no less!) you were my wing chick, displaying my graphic confections with ease and dexterity. Your high tech yet attainable ways won me my current plush employment.
* You raise me up! My heart rate, anyway. iTunes keeps me pumping those legs on the tread and motivates me to keep going those extra 10 minutes. And the simple interfacing helps me keep my poor hand-eye coordination in check so that I don't trip and roll off in a cataclysmic ball of broken bones.
* The endless possibilities our future holds. App Store provides me with an app for every conceivable purpose. Urban Spoon for indecisive dinner plans, My Lists for my OCD planning tendencies, even Flixster to not only find a movie theater nearby, but to tell me showtimes and even let me read reviews and watch trailers. Anything you could possibly wish for can be found and loaded to the iPhone. I will never grow tired of the change it brings to my life!
I know you hear about how great the iPhone is all day long and get sick of it's utter prevalence in every skinny jeans clad youth. But seriously, I never thought I could be so devoted to a phone, but the iPhone is so much more than a phone. It's love.
-B
In an era when the definition of what is cool is defined by the people around us I’d like to pay tribute to the one thing that is timeless, cross cultural and is ubiquitous at every high school and summer camp. PDA. You heard me. Good old, downright, tried and true Public Display of Affection. Lovely, right?
Ah, love…
Love makes the world go ‘round.
What the world needs now, is love, sweet love.
All you need is love.
WRONG! All you need is not love. And for some of us, we don’t need to see your love to have our world go round. Because my dear friends, now it seems as though PDA is not just for the young and horny hearty. It seems as though our senior citizens (definition: anyone above 40) have found their moment to shine as well.
This weekend, I was lucky to be in a nice little tourist town where people from around the globe love to congregate. And it was everywhere - lips on lips, lips on neck, hand in hair, hands on back, hands in places I don’t think I want to write about. And it was not just the young people, it was everyone. I bet you think I was in Ft. Lauderdale, or Carmel or New Orleans, right? Nope, I was right here in the good ol’ Bible Belt of San Antonio, Texas. What I marveled at though, was that it was everywhere, and I mean everywhere. The young, the old, the plump, the thin, the chic, the geeks – everyone was in on the act! And no one seemed to mind the old gray-hairs were jumping in on the action either.
I used to think dry humping was just for the young pre-pubes that couldn’t get enough of each other. When did tonsil hockey become so socially acceptable for all ages? Have I missed something here? I don’t mind seeing a couple in love and when that couple is between the fresh age range of 15-30, I can totally get behind the need for all of the touching. But seriously, grandpa, keep it in the gurney. None of us want to know what you and Nanna are doing later on tonight with your public preview to the big show. I am no prude, but I just want to say that though PDA is great for about half of the population, the love potion is not for all to imbibe.
-E
LOL. Is there anything more irritating in the ebonic vocabulary? I despise that three letter response as much as I can't stand to get smiley face texts. Seriously? That's all I get? If I deem you worthy enough to grace you with a ten cent gem of a thought, you can at least respond in kind. Don't disgrace me with those three letters of conversational doom! There must be another way to express yourself when you find something entertaining.
Why has it seemed that grammar and spelling is completely fallen by the wayside? On what seemed like the 67th time to correct someone on the appropriate usage of you're verses your during a facebook bout, I got the ridiculously lame excuse that we were just chatting, thus it was unnecessary to use any semblance of accurate English. Except of course this was written something like "wez just chattin, i don hafta spell rite". Please, for the love of literary holiness, at least spell better than a third grader! I feel like I am conversing with imbiciles. Or monkeys. Or George Bush (Sorry cowboy. I heart you, but you didn't do any favors for the literate portion of the nation).
In the risk of sounding like a miffed junior high English teacher, can't we please express ourselves competently and clearly, even when though techie mediums? Wouldn't you think a bit more highly of a person if they can be witty and intelligent even through a twitter or text message? Maybe it's just my inner novelist talking here. But there just HAS to be a better way to say you're laughing! There's even an entire commercial campaign with those creepy talking thumb-head things! So please, PLEASE, for our nation's sliver of hope for future credibility as a civilized socialization, tell me you think I'm a clever cat. Or that you scared your dog when you barked out a laugh. Anything besides an LOL!
-B
Men and women who hit each other: Something I can't even stand to hear about. This whole Rihanna and her big fat jerk business is just a bunch of malarky. Men that hit their women just plain suck. And ladies, you are not exempt either: women who control and hit their men are just as much human refuse as the men who put up with it. I was on a local radio station's website today and they had a vote going on as to whether Brown's music should be allowed to play on air. Hell NO! Let's ban Chris Brown, let's ban his music, ban photos of him and any other paraphernalia! Guys like this need to be taught a lesson. In fact, anyone who hits someone they supposedly love needs a serious wake up call. This is not healthy, this is not normal, and this is not acceptable. Take a moment and tell the local station in your area that enough is enough! If we let it slide on a nationally public scale, it will become more common at home. And trust me ladies, and fellas, violence is not the answer. Hugs not drugs! Or something like that.
-E
I am so tired of Brad, Ang and Jenn. I mean I like to stare at the aesthetic perfection like anyone else but seriously, can the paparazzi not think of anything else to follow and haunt us with? There has to be someone else to spend out time reading about? I think that the Hollywood starlet-chick with bad lipo was more interesting than the Brad and Jenn saga that never seems to end. At least with Britt we new that the end would come in some fashion. This is insane. And to be honest, I am tired of my supermarket aisles being painted with this trio.
I don't have more to say on this. I think the point has been made.
But maybe a request to Hollywoodland- would someone please do something stupid/amazing/unbelievable/incorrigible/astonishing - just do something else, PLEASE!
Size zero is not fat people. I don't care how you slice it, if my pant size doesn't even register on the Richter scale there is no possible way you can convince me that I'm two ounces away from a cardiac. Before you accuse me of being a skinny bitch let me postface my intro by saying that I'm not trying to manifest someone's personal value in their body fat ratio. I'm taking out my feminine wrath on a fitness giant that needs a little good old fashioned hell-raising.
This not-so-fairy tale begins with a joint venture into a little physical fitness during the office lunch hour. You see, E and I value the benefits of exercise. The boost to your libido being top on that list. So, I decided to join the gym at which she holds a membership and commence said activities. One of the perks of joining is the fitness examination where a personal trainer will evaluate your current state of bodily health, and give you a few pointers on what you could work on. Enter dirty sales tactics.
I walk in to my 24 Hour Fitness of choice five minutes prior to the scheduled evaluation, true to my ever-so-prompt fashion. I am treated rudely as usual by the local sales rep, and wait around for my trainer. She pops me into a side-room and begins to take down my information. What are my goals? Well, nothing really, perhaps a little endurance. Focus? Hm. Maybe my core, I suppose. That's usually something trainers like to hear. Weight loss goals? Well, no, I'd rather not be Sally Stick, thank you very much. I'm pleased with my current physique. At that last, I earned myself a raised eyebrow and sardonic smile. We proceed to the calipers. Oh, the calipers. I have several choice skin flaps pinched and measured, tallied up, and marked down. We walk over to the chart and find my age, and follow it down to my newly calculated number. The chart progression begins at Malnourished, Athletic, Fit, Acceptable, Fat, and finishes off with Obese. Her finger continues to slide down the chart, hovering right between Acceptable and Fat. Seriously? Now, I'm no skinny minnie. I'm a thin girl by nature (or by hyperthyroidism, take your pick), and I pride myself on all the slight cushion I've earned by serious effort (cheesecake, chips and salsa, with a side order of three cannoli come to mind...)
The trainer proceeds to inform me that 30% of my body is fat. Really? Now correct my third grade health, but if 70% of the human body is water, wouldn't 30% fat make me nothing but a wiggling mass of jello? She told me this is very concerning given my height and age. My measurements were then taken, also deemed "concerning". I became more and more confused. How can this be? I run 15 miles a week, and never eat fast food. Now I don't diet, but I'm no heifer either. So, finally we head over to the scale. I hop all of my 5'4" post-lunch little self on it, and see that though I've gained a few this month, I'm still chillin at a buck twenty five. Pleased as punch myself, my bubble is abruptly popped with a scathing "Are you satisfied with that?" Why, yes, ma'am I am! Have you felt my steely abs yet? Of course not. After another half hour of pointing out my every weakness (apparently 70% of my body) I am corralled back into the room to hear my suggested personal training packages. Of course I'll need at least three months of sessions, knocking me back around two grand. Commence laughter.
Ahh, now I see! This is nothing but a weak sham to play my innate-feminine body issues into a quick sale. Do I have my card ready? Of course not! Who thinks to bring a credit card to the gym? Well, can I swing back by in an hour and handle this? Why, of course! (not) Several inflamed phone calls to 24 Hour Fitness corporate solve nothing, surprise surprise. I won't discontinue my membership, but I most certainly will not be swindled either. So ladies, please, proceed with caution while being ill-advised by fitness personnel. Odds are, you don't need personalized training. Getting a couple of hours of focused activity each week will certainly be beneficial in and of itself. Now back off, gym people, and let me run around in peace. Good thing I have enough vanity self-confidence to disbelieve the nay-sayers.
Stay strong sistahs! More cushion for the pushin'
-B
I used to LOVE Grey's. Couldn't get enough of just about everyone on that show. Now I wonder what else I can do on Thursday night. The only thing good about that show is that McSteamy is on screen trying to hit it with any and every chick who comes along. Even McDreamy is less appealing. Is that because he is taken now? I don't know, but the show is sucking the luster out of my lack. Thank God that Izzie is slowly going insane and avoiding the pain that we all feel every Thursday night! Someone pass me my Cock chard, I give the show another season at best.
BUT, wherever the Lord closes a door, He opens a window and that peep hole shows promise with the new show Trust Me. What gal would not love two of the hottest guys on television stalking about with hangovers from partying the night before and wearing $800 suits while dreaming up the nation's newest concept for selling cell phones? Eric McCormack and Tom Cavanagh are two slightly older hotties that are just as charming as their on screen names: Mason and Conner- yummy... No idea if others like show this display goofy-sexiness but I think this one has staying power and I am all the better for it!
Now back to the really important theme, Bella and Edward. Have you all finished the entire Twilight Series? Because the truth of the matter is now that I have finished the quadrilogy, I miss Edward and Bella. I really do. I think that I might just have to enter into the world of Volturi and red-haired siren vampires all over again. On top of that, I thought I was crazy for thinking this way until I saw an email from a 60 year old woman stating the same thing. So evidently I am not the only one... Though there are party-poopers out there that have voiced their sad opinions that only Hannah Montana fans and menopausal women are enjoying the Twilight ride. Well, that's because we've got a good idea of what we want out of love and that is what B & E are all about. My prediction? In the long term, that women and girls alike will band together and demand more from their fellas. And not in that screechy put-the-seat-down kind of way. More in the ways of not putting up with the now too prevalent just-plain-rude behaviour guys seem to think girls like. What we need is unreserved, unabashed, unrelenting passionate love that can't be kept apart for any reason. The kind of feeling that every high school girl feels for the first time she passes an artfully folded and doodled note to her sweetheart at his locker. That feeling is what these books embody, and if you want a high longer-lasting and less health-impairing than your daily dose of THP, pick up a copy today. Or even better, foil the plans of your local pesky kids and check it out of the library.
-E
Who are we? Two pretty ladies. You heard me. Pretty. It's true, just facebook us and find out. What do we do? We waste precious work time chatting about anything and everything. How we love Edward and Bella. Wouldn't it be nice if we could eat potato chips and ranch for lunch everyday? But then we might be putting our pretty status on the line, so we stick to healthier stuff, like french fries. Why should you read this blog? Cause we're two witty gals bantering on what's hot, what's cool today. Not so much tomorrow, or even really yesterday.
We consider ourselves the Pop Culture Mavens. THE authority on what's really exciting in our world today. Global warming? Not so much. Sprinkles Cupcakes? Now you're talking. So tune in regularly to find the latest installment on what inspires our creativity, sparks our interest, or even boggles our minds. We promise we won't be boring.
Deuces.
E and B