Real Life with Byn and James

Byn: i want to come back. im over school already. find a way for me to get there.

James: it's called pack your shit up and move here. take 40 - w to 10 - w the entire way.

Byn: man i wish i could. i love your blog. it really entertains me in class which i greatly appreciate. I do think i should be mentioned more often. thats just my personal opinion though. it is sooo nice here today. back to the warm weather, which could be my last love of southwest florida. i think i am meant to be in venice. im scared that by the time i get there you and j will be married with 10 kids livin in the burbs, and not the burbs of LA.

James: Gross, do we really look like burbs people? You know our kids are destined to skate on the corners with the bums and have long, sun bleached hair.

Afterthought: Ten kids?! Bitch please, I can only imagine one. If I have a girl, I'll try one more time, and that's it. Plus, we all know I'm a bit too self centered to even think about having kids in the next five years. And it can't take five years for your ass to finish school and move out here. You can live in my closet.

PS - for a student specializing in English, you need to work on your contractions. LOVE YA!

Crazy, Party of One

Who had a total mental breakdown last night? Me. That's right, I sat in the bathroom for 30 minutes or so and cried myself into a sloppy puddle.

Why you might ask? Oh because I was watching 20 Wedding Dos and Donts, realized I wasn't even engaged, so I better change that shit before J gets home. Well, then I felt guilty for lying to him (since when is omitting information lying...good question) so I fessed up to my new addiction to all wedding shows. Platinum Weddings, Whose Wedding is it Anyways, and my favorite, Bridezilla. I've also started watching the travel channel religiously so I can make sure to pick the sexiest, most delicious honeymoon location EVER.

WTF is wrong with me? I'm in no rush to get married. I mean, it's not like I've planned out the location, my bridesmaids, what they're wearing, what my favors will be, what my dress will look like, how I'll wear my hair...because I HAVEN'T. Of course I have my ideas, and if you get me drunk enough I'd tell you what my colors are, what song we'll dance to (not telling, you might steal them), and some other stuff that I've seriously thought about.

I'm officially wedding obsessed. And that's fine...as long as I don't start bringing wedding magazines home.