The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of Party Night Sleeping Arrangements

Heidi already detailed a good deal about her fantastic party on the weekend, but she left the story of my sleeping arrangements to me. I have to admit, it's pretty funny, albeit a tad discouraging for my love life. Then again, what else is new?

At around 3am, I fell asleep with my friend, who is a male, on Heidi's couch. This is where the interesting part begins (no, not interesting like oooh interesting *wink wink* but interesting as in funny and slightly pathetic, unfortunately). After sleeping for about 2 hours, I woke up extremely uncomfortable and decided to move to the bed that I was originally supposed to sleep in. No such luck with that bed - one of my other guy friends had decided to take that over.

Okay, no big deal, right? I just went back to the couch. However, in the 30 seconds that I had left the couch and walked down the hall, my friend had sprawled out completely. Hm. Couch is out. (Clearly he didn't miss my presence!).

I then decided to mosey on down to the basement to see if there was somewhere to sleep there. I tried out the loveseat, but it was uncomfortable (ironic?), so I grabbed blankets and a huge pillow and stretched out on the floor. The pillow was so comfortable that I fell asleep instantly. It smelled a little, well, like dog, but that wasn't a big deal.

Later that morning, as my friends and I gathered in the basement to chat about the previous night's events, I asked Heidi what that big pillow was. Her response, in the midst of uncontrollable laughter (I'm actually surprised she didn't pee her pants, she was laughing so hard), was that it was a dog bed. I slept in a dog bed. By myself. After being essentially kicked out of two other sleeping places by human males. Awesome.

What's more is that Brother Bella had his latest chicky over at our house the previous night, where I suppose he got up to...well, I think we can all guess. I can't even get a date, and my brother has someone stay over. My brother sleeps in a human bed with another human, while I slept on the floor, in a dog bed, by myself. Have we grasped that pathetic-ness that was early Sunday morning? Brother Bella - 1, Bella - 0. If I had been in the dog bed WITH a member of the opposite sex, I would have been fine. Even better if there had been little sleep going on (sorry, Mom and Dad), but, alas, that doesn't happen in my world.

This past weekend's events just further highlight the differences between the romantic lives of my brother and I. At least I can still hold on to the hope that I will be the one to get married while he still spends his weekends at bars trying to pick up girls that are far too young for him.

All in all, though, Heidi threw a fabulous party - a great time was had by all!

Love,

Bella

A Night I Don’t Remember, With Friends I’ll Never Forget

Partying. It’s a pretty common thing. In any given group there is always the one that drinks too much, the one that’s absolutely hilarious, the one that gets a little too open due to the immense amounts of liquid courage…you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. But, when friends come from near and far to get together for one amazing night, there’s bound to be more than just a party happening. However, in everyone's partying life there is always “that night” where maybe you had a little too much to drink, not enough food to absorb it, and, in the end, not enough water to drink. That, my dear reader, was me at my ‘09 Summer Bash. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Maybe it was to de-stress about the current school situation, but maybe it was because I have an amazing bunch of friends who I just wanted to drink with and have a great time. Clearly, I didn’t watch how much my bottle of vodka was becoming increasingly empty with every drink I made, as I (probably) put more in my drink as the night went on to make it not taste so much like water. Looking back, that may have been a bad idea.

You see, I have always been “that drunk” that caters to everyone else's needs; the one who clears away beer bottles when they start getting in the way, who keeps everyone in line, helps people when they’re not feeling too hot, and generally just keeps things flowing nicely. Not at this party. Not even close. If anything, I turned into that “nuisance drunk” that apparently fell a lot, and laughed at the dumbest things; that damned high maintenance drunk that I so often grit my teeth at. Vodka is the devil. I’m going back to my Malibu, which I don’t get sick from, don’t get a hangover from (often), and don't get NEARLY that drunk from. Vodka…peace out. It’s over. Bella can keep you. The restraining order I am setting up will become effective immediately, this includes you in the form of anything from shots, mixing, and/or jello shots.

Now, do you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up and ask, “What the h*ll happened last night?” Again, that was me…and Bella. Bella and I always remember the night. What are the chances of us both being so incredibly incapacitated that we both don’t remember? That either spells out “great party” or “you were just way too drunk.” All day we tried to pry from the other drunk-but-not-that-drunk friends that had the misfortune of being around us the previous night. However, apparently our memory wasn’t the only bad one. Numerous other people could only give generalizations, never specifics (which was what we were after.) “Well, you guys were rather amusing, happy, and fell down a lot.” My bruises tell me that, thanks.

Since Bella and I converse about our increasingly single life on a daily, sober basis, as much as I have tried denying it, the topic came up last night…apparently multiple times. Bella recalls me complaining, saying that “I’m so LONELY!!” She responded something along the lines of “Aw, Raych….” when I snapped back “Well, so are YOU!” Not going to lie, I BURST out into uncontrollable laughter when I heard that, picturing it in my head so vividly clear. Apparently I asked another friend to be my temporary boyfriend. FML, and eff you vodka. Other than that, our specifics on the night are nonexistent, or at least very vague if they do in the slightest way exist. The puzzle will never be put together, but the pictures do claim that everyone had a wicked awesome time.

I also love the “morning after” so that you can converse with the unfortunate souls who stayed the night. It was during one of these conversations that we discovered that Bella slept on a large, extremely comfortable pillow…my dog’s bed. I’m sure she will write a post about that, so I’m not going to spoil her fun.

Anyways, I have learned that a) you cannot rely on other drunks to reconstruct the previous night, b) best friends will always be there, even in the sticky, gross situations, c) my summer parties apparently kick ass, and finally, d) Vodka is my poison that may as well be lethal.

Adious!
- a very hungover Heidi

If I hear the "Apple Tree" Analogy One. More. Time...

I think that this may be more of a rant than a post, but I hear that it is good to change things up a bit. Not to mention this is my first blog post about anything to do with dating. I hope that there are others out there who can relate to this, or at least feel similar to me in the situation. I know Bella and I banter back and fourth on a continual basis about this!

The daunting question that I am asked more than I feel necessary is, “Do you have a boyfriend?” and, my favourite, never failing, follow-up, “But WHY?!” It’s actually ridiculously annoying, as Bella would agree, mainly because we don’t know exactly “why.” Sure, families have to tell you that you’re too independent, educated, and all of that fancy stuff. But, wouldn’t that exactly be the reason why you wouldn’t be single? Alas, after saying that, you are often suffocated by the dreaded “apple tree analogy”; where noone wants to spend the time to pick the “good apples” from the top of the tree, and instead go for the easier apples on the bottom. It gets VERY annoying and old after you hear it about ten times per month.

Another one of my favourite parts in the entire conversation is that often people don’t believe that I’m single. Take, for instance, my recent trip to Connecticut. While out on a dinner with the show promoter, he asked if I had a boyfriend, and when I responded the obvious “no” he looked at Momma Heidi, as if I was lying right to his face. Sad, but oh so true. It wasn’t until I told him that I was going to a wedding alone that he actually believed me, and I think that he still in doubt.

It’s situations like these that I always think about my bestie, Bella, for I know she goes through the exact same thing on a constant basis. I feel somewhat normal, or what Bella and I consider “normal,” only because I know there is someone else who has to experience the same thing as I. Then again, we have found ourselves to be similar in other odd things that other people probably deem as unusual and quirky.

I just tend to stick with the “I don’t know” aspect of it because I don’t feel like bringing up the history that seems to haunt my dating life. What I have found, or experienced, is that it seems more of a game to people than anything else. I’m not one to openly admit feelings or emotions that I may have for another person unless I’m absolutely certain there is something on the other side of the fence. I’m not bold enough to pursue anyone, let alone talk about what or how I feel. It seems like once they crack that barrier, that they find out that I do have feelings for them, that that’s the end of it. Game over. Within the week, IM’s, text messages, and random Facebook messages disintegrate and everything ceases to be seen again.

It’s not until I hop onto Facebook a little while later that new notifications come up that __________ is now in a relationship with _________. Or, even better, that doesn’t happen and then they try talking to me a while down the road after, I assume, the supposed “relationship” went sour. They try to act like nothing happened, and that I had been oblivious to the apparently drop of communication. It’s pretty obvious when someone enters into a relationship, and I’ve pretty much become pro at being able to decipher the signs. Not like I should be talking like that’s a good thing, because I’d personally rather not have the experience to be able to tell before it happens.

If I may be so bold to say, between Bella’s and my own personal life, we could make a pretty tragic sequel to one of our favourite films, “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Watch out Hollywood, here we come!

Ciao,
Heidi

Living a Healthy Lifestyle Isn't Always Easy or Fulfilling

Let me begin my stating that I love my family to death. They're really into working out and eating healthy, which is fantastic on most levels. However, on some levels, the constant deliberating over what is healthy to eat and what isn't, how many calories and carbohydrates one should consume, and the best way for women to lose fat and lean out is tiring and, at times, discouraging (mostly because I want to hear that I can have a steady diet of chocolate and not gain a pound).

Brother Bella has always been into fitness and eating well and his physique shows it. He trains incredibly hard himself, and he also trains others in order to get them in tip-top shape. I think Brother Bella's hard work and determination is fantastic and something I desperately want to emulate, but I always wonder if people look at him and think, "How is he in such good shape and Bella is just, well, average?". I'm not saying that to pity myself, nor am I saying that I'm a whale, because I know I'm not. I work out, so I'm not a big blob of fat or anything, but I'm just pointing out an honest to God thought that runs through my mind every once in a while.

Add to the fact that Brother Bella critiques things that my parents and I sometimes eat and looks down on exercises that I do as not what he deems "the best", sometimes I want to smack him. (I know he'll read this post at some point, so Brother Bella, just to let you know, I do appreciate all the help that you give me, truly I do).

Momma Bella is also super disciplined when it comes to working out and eating well. She gets me up at 5:45 every morning to go to the gym, despite my groaning. I am so glad that she pushes me because, if she didn't, then I sure as Hell wouldn't be there that early. Momma Bella is my motivation.

However, Momma Bella is awesome at not eating at night and at maintaining a strict eating and exercise regime, whereas I fall to temptation all the time. I guess what's frustrating is that Momma Bella is in great shape while I'm the daughter that isn't. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Okay, maybe not, this is just me complaining because I'm bitter that, in order to lose weight, I basically have to eat nothing and I'm ALWAYS hungry.

Daddy Bella is really into eating healthy, as am I, but I also have a serious addiction to chocolate, and that's my downfall. What I would love is to lose great amounts of weight (or some, at least), seriously tone up, and be able to stand beside Brother Bella and Momma and Daddy Bella and be all, "Yep, this is me now. Be proud". After which I would go prance around in a bikini. Or nothing. Depends on my mood.

Okay, this post isn't really about working out or eating healthy at all. It's just me releasing the frustration that I feel with myself. Maybe this post isn't funny or chipper, but I'm sure some people can relate on some degree, and that's what I aim to provide with my posts. Something that people can relate to and agree with, maybe understand that they're not alone in their dating trials and tribulations, their sibling issues, and their struggles with weight loss.

Love,

Bella

Hotels...or Camping?

Holidays. We’ve all been on them, and have had the opportunity to stay in a hotel/motel during the stay. They have all of today’s modern amenities: clean running water, toilets, showers/baths, sinks, fridges, televisions, and huge, ridiculously comfortable beds. Food in the form of grocery stores and restaurants is never far away. Pretty much a home away from home, right?

What about the other option, camping? Things are not nearly as accessible (or comfortable, in some people’s opinion). But, is it more fulfilling?

In the past two weeks I have spent more nights in a hotel or a campsite than I have my own bed. In both Montreal, Quebec, and Hartford, Connecticut I spent the night in hotels, both happen to be of the Holiday Inn chain. In between those two weekends I camped in Algonquin Park. I figured it would be a good idea to compare to two very different excursions.

Hotels. They’re pricey, needless to say. You’re confined to a small room with up to three other people, who, by the end of the stay, you may or may not want to murder (if you haven’t already). You have to fight over a single bathroom, so you better have a half-decent schedule set up if you want to be out of the room by a specific time. Having a television is great; you can keep up-to-date on shows that you just simply CAN NOT miss. Me, for instance, was able to watch The Bachelorette while in Montreal, to Dadda and Grandpa Heidi’s dismay. On the other hand, they could have left the room and gone swimming, or even the fitness center for arguments sake. But no, they decided to stay in the room and harp about how terrible the show is, as if I had somehow sealed the door closed to forcefully put them into misery. But, on the upside, there is generally a pool or hot tub around, which is always nice!

Camping. Now, that’s an adventure in every way possible. Personally, I love camping and wish I could do it a lot more often than I have done in the past few years. Maybe it’s the “getting back to nature” aspect, where cell phones fail to work for the textaholic, and where MSN and the overly addicting Facebook seem so obsolete that it makes you happy. During this time, you are just with the friends that you have with you, and noone else. It seems to bring in an entirely new atmosphere. While camping, the tent that you use is usually only used when one wants to catch some Z’s (although, with my friends, nocturnalness is the norm). You’re not confined to a tiny space, as the campground is large with different attractions such as beaches and trails. At night, the campfire is always going, and if someone plays guitar it makes for the perfect setting.

The downside, obviously, is the washing facilities, but it’s a part of camping you really can’t avoid. It doesn’t bother me like it does some people. Then again, this is coming from a girl who spent a month in the Arctic without ANY running water, showers, or toilets. Go ahead, let your mind wander…I’ve heard it all. Needless to say, camping is a luxury compared to that. However, some places are starting to get better. Where we stayed in Algonquin, a one million dollar “Comfort Station” that has clean bathrooms and showers with heated floors was installed. It’s pretty crazy. Really, the “downs” of camping are starting to become far and few between. Those pesky mosquitoes, though, I could without. Should have killed that species off when there was only two of them. But, again there is a cure for that – heavy duty bug spray! I find Off Deepwoods works wonders!

The things that you can do while camping is often a lot more economical than staying in a hotel. While camping, you pack your food in a huge freezer, and hope it holds ice long enough to keep the drinks cold and burgers semi-frozen. While you’re hotelling you might as well make sure your credit card can hold up to three meals a day at a place to eat, unless you have a kitchenette.

For me, I clearly prefer camping. There’s nothing that beats being outside in the gorgeous weather (or not so gorgeous, if we’re talking about the current summer) with some special friends to just chill out and forget about the crazy city life back home.

Have fun on your summer excursions! Make the best of it, there are only a few months left, and even fewer nice days!

Ciao,
Heidi.