so. many. things. happening.

OK, folks. Here we go, a la bullet points, because there is just TOO much stuff happening (good things!) and it’s Friday, and I’m about to run out the door for the temping gig I have. But, obviously I feel the need to share my MAJOR news. Because I HEART you all.

• I guess I didn’t really convey in my last post just how decided I am in the whole leaving-Boston-thing. Honestly, I’m about 95% sure right now. Columbus, Pittsburgh, NYC and Atlanta are all on my list. In that order.

• That being said, I will be in Columbus next Friday for an IN PERSON JOB INTERVIEW which I am pumped about. Fingers crossed, folks, fingers crossed.

• Whiiiiiich brings me to my next point. I’m going home on Thursday, and because the fates have been OH SO KIND to me/us, bXY is going to also be in PA. 45 minutes from my home. SO WE ARE MEETING NEXT THURSDAY. I’M GOING TO MEET WHOM SOME HAVE DUBBED “MY SOULMATE FROM ANOTHA STATE.” Oh. Em. F*ing. Gee. I’m beyond excited. Beyond. Butterflies. Flitting about. Smitten-ness, everywhere. (Yes, I totally just made that word up.) But so, so happy. (Yes, we’ve already talked about all these things listed above, and I’m 95% sure he’s reading. Hi honey! Less than a week! Yay!)

• Also exciting was that last night I joined up with Megabrooke, and saw three amazing acts in one concert. If you don’t know of April Smith, Ari Hest, and Ingrid Michaelson, you should. Trust. All three? Awesomeness. Total. Awesomeness.

• EDGAR IS DEAD. RIP, you bastard. No, seriously. It was actually quite the process. HotRoomie and I noticed a smell coming from our kitchen, and after RIPPING apart our kitchen, cleaning out EVERYTHING and what have you, we finally called the management people to come check it out, because we KNEW in our heart of hearts there was a dead animal. Somewhere. People, there was drilling. They had to rip off the baseboards of our kitchen. Sure enough, Edgar had passed onto mousey hell heaven. You’ll be happy to know though, that our kitchen is smelling fresh as a daisy once again, and all holes have been sealed so as to protect us from running a halfway home for mice in need. All together now: YAYYY.

• Remember this post? Particularly the one about one of my best guy friends making the biggest mistake of his life marrying this chick? He called me yesterday. The wedding is May 31st. It’s been “postponed.” Thank the Lord. I do feel terrible for him though, he’s really upset about it. But, we all know how things have a strange way of working themselves out. Keep him in your thoughts folks.

Okay….I think I’ve thoroughly managed to blow your minds with the amount of crap that has taken place in the past two days. Such is the life of BB. That being said…

Happy weekend, folks! Hope it’s a great one!!!

 

derailed: in more ways than one.

Riders are being bused this morning on the Green Line’s B branch while crews repair the damage from a trolley that jumped the tracks overnight and caught fire, an MBTA spokeswoman said.

The trolley had roughly 30 passengers on board at 1:30 a.m. when it derailed at Chestnut Hill station, hit a pole, and damaged overhead wires, said spokeswoman Lydia Rivera. None of the riders were hurt, but the crash caused some significant damage to the trolley and the track, Rivera said.

Crews are still working to remove the trolley from the intersection of Chestnut Hill and Commonwealth avenues, not far from Cleveland Circle. The overhead wires need to be fixed, and the repairs could affect the evening commute.

“It’s going to take some time,” Rivera said.

This horrible accident hit a little too close to home. Scratch that. WAY too close to home. As I texted my IBFF and soulsister this morning explaining the news (not to mention the fact I was GREATLY shaken up by this incident…it could have been ME on that train), she responded with a comment that really got me thinking about Boston.

I’ve truly loved Boston for the past three years. But in a way, I wonder if that derailed car is a metaphor for my life here, right now. As I drove to my interview this morning (don’t get excited, just a temp position), I watched that trolley car being dragged from the wreckage, its charred and broken remains, being pulled along as its tired wheels screamed in discord.

I can’t help but wonder…is that my relationship with this city?

I’m thinking that I might just need to be pulled to safety. Repaired and fixed…somewhere else. Because while the past three years has been good to me…

…I’m wondering if it might be time to take the hit, rebuild, and move on.

 

the stars dost mocketh me.

Dear Susan Miller,

You? Are a dirty pirate hooker.

(Okay. Not really.)

(I’m sorry.)

But seriously, seriously?! Why must you be so with it. Honestly, I wish that I had read this, oh, May 1st? Maybe that’d be slightly more helpful than you know, May 13th. BECAUSE A LOT HAS HAPPENED IN TWO WEEKS and it MIGHT have been HELPFUL to have a WARNING or I don’t know, a HEAD’S UP?!

I know, I know, we’ve discussed this before. But really, Susie. Come on now. Can’t we alter your predictions to letting me get things figured out by June 1st? I’ll even bake you cupcakes. I promise. Because November? Yeah. Not so much gonna work for me. I don’t think my tummy (and liver) can handle the stress. Plus, I really need to not worry about how I’m going to pay for the essentials in life for that long, i.e. rent, credit card bills, and getting my hair highlighted and cut. Not to mention the dire importance to my soul that mani/pedis have. I also think, by that point if I don’t have a job? My parents will have me on a slow boat to china. Banished from the will. And no one wants that.

I know you’re super busy, so I wanted to thank you for your time in listening to me today. And I hope you have a lovely day. I look forward to you working your magic by having my stars align- and the universe not fuck with me. We’ll chat soon, I’m sure.

Oh, and, I’m sorry for that whole “dirty pirate hooker” name calling thing. Slut.

Love,

BB

 

on why all things keys-related hate me.

We’re taking a break from the woe is me I need a job talk, because really, we all are aware of this fact, and being that I have spent HOURS scouring and applying for jobs, I need a break myself. So, it’s story time today, folks! Your hilarious Barbie that you know and love is back in action.

I’m going to start off by saying that like to think I’m a pretty smart cookie. I mean sure, occasionally I will do dumbass things like this, which then lead to hilarious drawings such as this from a kickass blogger (who is so smart and talented and funny and oh kinda famous so I was floored that she even took the time to make these fab illustrations, because I ADORE her, not to get all creeper on you Kristy, but I do! You’re awesome!) But I digress.

For the most part? I’m pretty together. Except you know, for that whole debt/unemployment thing. (BUT WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT NOW, BB. And you’ve already paid half it off this month so far, and you’re looking for jobs so you’re NOT a failure at being AN ADULT. Focus, BB, FOCUS).

Anyway, I was not so much “together” Saturday afternoon. And yes, this story (also) involves keys.

I’d like to preface this story with the fact that I am not good with this whole “keys” thing. You see, growing up in small town America, you don’t lock your front doors, and hell, you could leave your car keys IN the CAR in your DRIVEWAY over night, and be totally fine. Therefore, the concept of having and keeping keys because it’s not! safe! in a big! city! Is a concept that is slightly foreign to me, however, over the past three years I’ve learned that keys = important to life safety.

I’ve also learned that keys = pain in the ass = the reason for all ridiculous situations our fearless BB manages to find herself in.

Back to my story. So, Friday night I went out for drinks and yes, met up with Nantucket Red, and yes, had a great time, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say a certain LA based boy was finding his way into my thoughts. And I kinda (okay, REALLY) wanted it to be him next to me laughing dancing and drinking Stellas out of these HUGE beer steins that are FABULOUS and i just know that he would love because really, he IS bXY and I really MISSED him (you know, even though we’ve never met) and is it normal to be thinking about someone when you’re with someone else? Shit. Digressing. Again. Moving along. Where was I. Oh, Friday night. The point of the Friday night recap: I became Drunk Barbie and therefore broke my liver and was in the MAJOR hurtbox on Saturday.

Read: brain not working too good.

Being a tres fab roomie, I was taking some garbage out to the dumpster behind my apartment on Saturday (sidenote: HotRoomie usually does this because we’re pretty 1950s style in our living habits. He takes care of fixing things, taking out the garbage and dealing with bugs and crap, and I do the dishes and cook and such. But this afternoon, I put on my big girl pants and took out the garbage.) Now, it should be said that on some early mornings and on the weekends, you can hear the homeless, actually I don’t even know if they’re homeless, because they don’t look it, but regardless, there are PEOPLE THAT PICK THROUGH THE DUMPSTER to find recyclable items they can turn in for money. Since my walls are paper thin, and my room happens to be RIGHT above said dumpster, while it’s quite annoying, I’ve gotten used to the noise it makes. This is so much of a common occurrence, that upon my unemployment, HotRoomie was ordering dinner one night and was all “don’t worry, I’ll take care of you so you don’t have to pick food out of the dumpster to live like some of our street neighbors.” I know. He’s great like that.

SO.

Saturday afternoon, In-the-Hurtbox Barbie was taking out the garbage, being a good roomie. (I think you know where I’m going with this.) As I tossed the bag into the dumpster, the SECOND I released it, I realized “OH FUCK MY APARTMENT KEYS WERE IN THAT HAND AS WELL.” The clunk of my metal keychain hitting the metal dumpster was also an “OH FUCK” moment, just in case you were wondering.

I literally stood there, staring at the dumpster thinking of the dumbassery I just hath committed. So, in my pearl earrings and Citizens jeans, I peered over into the dumpster to see just how bad it was going to be.

THANK THE GOOD LORD ABOVE, it wasn’t very full, and after some major eye scanning, I saw that they had in fact, fallen to the bottom of the dumpster. But, but! They were in visible sight, with no icky things around it. Bonus. I then called upon all the years of my gymnastics training, and hopped up on the side of the dumpster, hips against it, holding myself up by my arms, similar to that of activities spent in my uneven bars days. I leaned forward, and you guessed it, head in dumpster, feet sticking up in the air, I reached and STRETCHHHHHEEED my arm as much as I possibly could, and VICTORIOUSLY retrieved my keys. I then hopped down, brushed myself off and looked around, praying to GOD that no one had just seen me. Dumpster diving.

Le sigh.

I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I had to fish my keys out of a dumpster because I AM A DUMBASS SOMETIMES, or the fact that immediately after I laughed to myself and said, “Good lord my readers are gonna get a kick out of this one. This will be such a nice break from the seriousness that has been my blog lately.”

And this is why y’all love me.

And I will continue to hate all things keys-related.

 

::i get by with a little help from my friends::

To all of you….from the kind emails, comments, calls, texts….thank you so, so much. From the bottom of my heart. The outpouring of love and support from y’all means more to me than I could ever possibly HOPE to convey through words.

As of now I’m currently trying to rework my resume, and look for jobs…all over. I’m not sure if I’ll be staying in Boston.

What I am sure of, is the support that the blog world has shown me, is at times, what kept me going…even when it has slipped from my parents mouths that I am “a failure in their eyes as being a competent adult.” Also, a special thank you to bXY…who despite the whirlwind that I’ve become, has remained strong and steady, and somehow…beyond all reason to me, continues to cheer me on…and pretty much is the most amazing guy I’ve ever met.

So, I will keep on, keepin’ on…and if anyone know of any employment opportunities they’d like to share with yours truly, I’m open to suggestions.

Hopefully we’ll return to our regular programmed scheduling of bb’s life, sooner rather than later. Thanks again for everything, in the meantime. It truly has meant to the world to me.

xo, b

 

shattered pieces. everywhere…

I just drank a bottle of champagne.

In the shower.

And let my tears fall away into the stream of water.

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I was called into the conference room at roughly 11am. It was there, I was told exactly this:

“while you’ve done amazing things here at XXXXX, you’re aware that its a very unique environment and place to work…we’re kinda like a family…and after having some discussions, it’s been decided that we don’t think this is the best fit.”

That’s all she wrote, folks.

I don’t “fit.”

Out of the blue. I suppose private companies can do that.

I feel as if my identity has been shattered into a thousand pieces, and the ruins are strewn about, everywhere. The talk of the severance package, and the ability to apply for unemployment was mentioned, and the rest is a blur. They were oh so kind enough to give me time to remove things from my office, and I was able to walk out the door, UN-escorted, with my Xerox box full of possessions.

It’s a raw wound.

It hurts, and stings…and every minute that passes a little more salt is poured in…causing me to wince as I stumble about, trying to find my balance…my place.

So lost.

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I’m still reeling…shell shocked…numb to the core. I’ve had my moments thus far, and I know there’s more to come; sobbing to the point of where you cannot catch your breath, gasps of air caught in your throat causing unhumanlike sounds…the throbbing pain in your temples from just being…cried out.

Emotionally hung out to dry.

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I don’t know where I’m at. Or where I’m going. If I’m going to stay in Boston, or leave…

I just don’t know.

 

oh my, my, my…. (updated)

Where do I even begin. So much has happened in my life this past week (as I alluded to in Monday’s post), I find myself wondering where even to begin. Deep breath. Here goes.

Daddy dearest and I are on speaking terms, and over the past week our relationship has taken a turn for the better. We spoke for the first time last Wednesday (since the blowup), as I had a questions re: my tax return and the letter I received from the people who prepare our taxes abut m refunds, blahblah boring number talk which I don’t understand. This discussion then turned into me admitting that I was in a financial pickle, and what I was to doing to fix it wasn’t helping. In fact, it was more like I was throwing money into a black hole. Blah blah, financial stuff talk, the next day I emailed my parents and confessed everything; how basically, I supported Asshat for four months and he ended up putting me in shitass financial situation. I explained how more than anything this makes me absolutely livid with myself that I became a woman who let herself be taken advantage of…a type of woman I have judged all my life. But, alas, live and learn. I could post the email I wrote to them, but really, I’m just tired of thinking/talking about it. Thank god for asshat’s manipulations being gone.

In short, I have a new financial advisor, read: my dad, and he is whipping me into shape, much like Jamie Spears did with our darling BritBrit. Not that I’m out of control like her, but, you get the idea. He also kept it from my mom for a couple days while he got a plan together, and then HE was the one that broke the news to her…after buttering her up with a steak dinner and a couple mojitos. This is important, because if you remember these conversations, I was scared to death for when the shit hath hitteth the fanneth. Anyway, where was I. Those nightly conference calls? And time spent inputting EVERY SINGLE TRANSACTION MADE IN THE PAST SIX MONTHS? Not. Fun. But, a necessary evil. There may have been a nightcap or two to help me through what was like reliving EVERY single date Asshat and I had. Good times. Happy to report though, that things are back on track and we’ve created a plan to get me back on the straight and narrow, pay off my debt, and still save for a new car that I will get next fall. It’s just the start of a long, long road. Prepare for more financial-related bitching in future posts. I know, you’re excited…but it’s nice to be able to sleep soundly again, and not stay up with worry. About not only my finances, but how I was keeping this from my parents. There’s a paragraph in the email I wrote to them that speaks volumes to this last statement, and its where I’m at. I wrote:

“I recognize this will leave me at square one re: my savings/investment, and is money that was earned through hard work over YEARS from Aunt A and Grandma & Grandpa. Please know that I do not take this fact lightly, and am ashamed of my actions. This is what keeps me up at night. While my financial judgment may have been impaired this past year, my moral judgment in no way has been affected; please understand I am hard enough on myself to cover all the anger and frustration you both may feel with me now. I’m trying to be a responsible grownup now, bite the bullet, and fix it. It’s not going to go away, but I need to get things in order so I can move on with my life.”

Surprisingly, they didn’t freak out like I thought they would, and have been really understanding and supportive through all of this. I think they, like me, realize that I learned my lesson, and have been paying for it, LITERALLY, emotionally and financially. My mo slipped up the other day and slipped into mommy lecture mode, but after speaking to my dad about it, I’m pretty sure he had a word with her, and she hasn’t said anything but supportive and understanding things since. So, daddy dearest is trying his damnedest to work his way back into my life, and actually ACT like the father he should be. So….we’ll see. Day by day, right?

Onto other things.

Work has been insanely busy, and I have two tradeshows coming up next week in Vegas, so I can’t promise timely blogging next Mon-Wed. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. What else…oh yes, the men in my life. How could I forget. Now, I’m sure you all have anxiously awaiting my boy updates, and some of you may have seen my recent status messages. (Oh, don’t worry we’ll get to that, darling Internets.) I think the best way to provide said updates is a la bullet point style, because my brain isn’t quite functioning to wittily and effectively string paragraphs about them together. OK.

• Tall Drink of Water: I must say, he surprised me. He called me Monday evening and left a voicemail, asking to get together this week. He left a voicemail, because I did not pick up my phone. Oh well. Anyway, I have plans for Fri and Sat, and leave on Sunday, so I wasn’t sure if I could fit him, and NantucketRed in. I just didn’t’ have enough days! (When it rains, it pours, right?) Well, after what happened with NantucketRed, which I will get to next, I emailed him yesterday and accepted. So, tonight we’re going out for dinner and drinks in our area. Should be fun, as conversation with him always keeps me entertained

• Nantucket Red: Excuse me while I have my fit of bitchyness, kthx. SO, we already know how he called me from California a lot and blahbah, and asked me coyishly “so when are you going to ask me on our third date?” to which I laughed, and we made plans to hang out this week. He said he’d get a hold of me when he got back to firm up plans. He took the red eye back on Sunday night, and worked all day Monday. Fine. When I didn’t hear for him Tuesday, I became Annoyed Barbie. So, Wednesday morning, I emailed him (the same time I emailed Tall Drink of Water). While Tall Drink of Water wrote me back within a half hour, NantucketRed? Oh, he definitely didn’t respond till midnight. And I KNOW he got the message on Facebook because I saw him online (thank you, new Facebook chat). In his email, he was all cute and like “No excuses for me being MIA, i’m so sorry blah, why don’t we get together Friday and/or Saturday night? I have to watch the Celtics with my boys on Friday, so maybe later on in the evening?” EXCUSE ME?! EXCUSE ME. OKAY. Look here, buckaroo. No, Friday or Saturday will not work. Why? Because I already have a date with HOM (explanation in a few) and then a Derby party on Saturday, and then an invitation to a concert form a hot musician (yes, another one. Again, I’ll get to that.) So excuse me, but WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, waltzing up all last minute and not even putting forth the EFFORT to spend time with me? I’m sorry, but I’m calling bullshit. I am a prize, damnit. YOU SHOULD BE DOING CARTWHEELS to see me. I deserve them. So you know what, buddy? Grow the fuck up, and grab a pair. I’m sick and tired of dealing with little, immature boys who don’t know what the fuck they want. Quite frankly, I don’t have time for it. And nor, will I put up with it. So, NantucketRed, if you really want to see me and really feel the way you say you do? You have a long road back to prove it to me. I’m not even sure if I want to dignify that message with a response. And that is all I have to say on this topic.

• HOM, aka “Hot Older Man”: Not really much to say here, except that he’s a hot older man, who is a friend of a friend. Never met him before, but we’ve talked a lot this past week and we’re meeting for the first time Friday night for drinks and dinner. We shall see. He’s a leeeetle older than I usually go for, but whatever. Should be fun.

• The Funkmaster aka yet another musician: So, quick back story. Last May, I was out and about with one of my girlfriends, and we ended up stumbling into a bar where there was a band playing. I was chatting p the bartender, and she was chatting up some of our other friends who had joined us. At the end of the night, since they were closing, we were racing out, and the musician, The Funkmaster (he sings soul/acoustic jam stuff) was standing at the door. I had seen him earlier in the evening, and we briefly exchanged words, and then I flitted off somewhere. Looking back, it’s all a bit blurry thanks to the many vodka tonics I had that night, but I do remember this. As I was leaving, he said he’d like to see me again, and told me to get a hold of him, and gave me his email address. I kissed him on the cheek, smiled, and peaced out. I did, actually email him the next day, and coy witty banter ensued, and then I just kinda…stopped. Anyways. This past week OUT OF THE BLUE he emails me, and friends me on myspace and we start talking again. Apparently he has a show on Saturday night, and the guest list has a spot for Miss B +1. yeah, that’s right. Gust list bitches. Whatev, should be fun seeing a concert…especially after the Derby Party during the day that I will be attending. Hmmm. I probably should start preparing my liver now.

And now, the last one…..because I’m saving the best for last. This man…he is the reason for my status updates as of late. You see, the other day I made an offhand comment to a bloggy friend, about one of her friends being “total hotness.” We also had something in common that was just so sickeningly adorable, I just had to tell her. Well, she then told said friend unbeknown to me….who then stopped on over to my bloggy…and emailed me.

It’s safe to say since that first email, there has since been a flurry of EPIC proportioned emails…which has led us to be in this short time…absolutely smitten. The fact he lives across the country from me? Pshaw, minor detail, folks. Anyway, we shall call him bXY…for reasons that are an inside joke to both of us. Which you may or may not be able to figure out depending on how clever you are. (Hi honey! I know you’re reading this! Hope you’re having a great morning!). bXY is the reason for my disgustingly annoying happiness as of late and we’ve managed to make an unreal connection through lots of commonalities we have…to the point where both of us are wondering if fate and the universe are fucking around with us. He’s pretty wonderful…and he’s become a huge part of my day….and any man who has read this blog (my INNERMOST THOUGHTS, gah!) and still finds me fabulous, AND understands that I’m not about to censor my writing and what’s happening in my life over here on the East Coast because I know he’s reading? Well….that’s pretty great. I wasn’t prepared, or expecting him and this wonderfully undefinable place we’ve found ourselves in, but now that he’s a part of my life…I truly can’t imagine him ever…not being.

WHEW! That was a LOT. However, it gives y’all lots of fodder to comment on. So, with that, I bid you adieu. I’m off to go anxiously refresh my email account, in anticipation of the latest installment of bXY’s and my correspondence.

If you need me, I’ll just be sitting over here, grinning like a fool, daydreaming at my desk…

******UPDATE******

NantucketRed has come crawling back. Hmmmph. We’ll see if I end up getting together with him this wekend…

 

stay tuned…

Lots happening. More to come….as soon as I’m able to take a break from that thing that you know, pays the bills.

Work. So silly.

 

::slow me down::

This morning has been one filled to the brim with fate and symbolism. I realize that is not a light statement to make, but its true.

(Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a deep and heavy, majorly introspective post. It IS Monday morning.)

(I’ll get all emo on you later this week.)

(I know, you can hardly wait.)

Awhile ago, The lovely Each, on one of her weekend visits, made me a CD, “Barbie Mix 1.” With the rockstar’s new CD out, I had shelved it for awhile, but something told me to grab it, to pop in and listen to on my morning commute. As I drove along, it came to song #9.

It’s safe to say I don’t think I breathed the entire song.

Okay, so maybe I did, but it didn’t feel like it. I sat there, transfixed by the melody, and after the VERY HEAVY weekend I just came from, that I’m not quite ready to go into on here, because HI it’s Monday, and Barbie has her standards, I just sat there, and listened in a daze. And played it. Over. And over. And over again.

As I listened to the song, I came to a spot in my drive where there is a stoplight, and a grassy patch where Canadian Geese visit every morning. They mill about, picking and plucking on whats left of scraps from where the homeless people sometimes sit and beg for whatever one can offer; a prime intersection of all working folk. This morning, amidst the three geese pecking and plucking about, there was one goose that attracted my attention.

The goose? It simply sat there.

Cars whizzing past, horns honking, headlights shining upon it. But despite all this, quietly and still, the goose nestled in on that bit of grass. His head regally lifted, he observed the chaos ensuing around him. This image, combined with song, affected me. So much so that I realized I needed to write about it. I still have not yet come to my final conclusion about what I witnessed, but I know there is one. And I’m pretty sure it has something to do with where I’m at, and how I’m living my life. And the symbolism that a greater power wanted me to see.

Or, maybe it was just a goose sitting in an intersection, and I’m reading entirely too much into it. I don’t know. Whatever the case, it moved me.

So, in honor of that intelligent goose, with the ability to sit back and find peace in the chaos that surrounded him, I’m declaring today a “Music Monday.”

Because never before, have I ever found a song to convey the tumultuous twisting and turning of my thoughts and the state of my life right now.

So delicately. So beautifully. So truthfully.

Enjoy. And folks, if you haven’t heard this song, take a listen all the way through. It’s well worth it. Let me know what you think. (And for my guy readers out there? Even if you hate the song, Emmy Rossum is hotness, so at least you have that.)

Happy Monday.

xo, b

 

friday fun (with search terms).

To the person who found my blog by searching “flughafen last call sounds”:

Ummm.

….

Yeah. I got nothing.

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To the person who found my blog my searching “badass barbie”:

I think we should be friends. I like your style. It’s totally bitchin’.

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To the person who found my blog my searching “super preppy asshole j crew madras”:

I’m going to go with the thought that you DON’T have a bajillion J. Crew catalogs coming to your door like I do.  I’m also going to guess that you don’t have your fingers crossed for me and NantucketRed.

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To the person who found my blog my searching “medical play with cupcakes”:

Hahahahha. Hahahhahahaha.

That sounds dirty.

(But my interest is piqued. I heart cupcakes. And doctors. Especially hot ones.)

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To the person who found my blog my searching “take a walk in his high heels”:

Wow. Hope that works out for ya.

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To the person who found my blog my searching “barbie cut my heart”:

I’m sorry?

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To the person who found my blog by searching “www.bloggingbarbie.wordpress.com”:

Really? Helpful hint: just bookmark me, already.

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…Happy weekend, everyone! xo, b