Moi, sketchy faux Santa, and Gabby circa…1987 maybe

Recently, I had to hunt down a copy of my birth certificate, and as I emerged from the government building in L.A with it in my hands, I was a little teary. Now, I blame this on a few things as I’m not one to usually start crying in the middle of parking lots in questionable neighborhoods…stress, relief, and a raging case of PMS. For some reason, seeing my Mom’s handwriting from the day I was born made me a lil sappy. But one thing on the certificate really made the tears come to my eyes.

At the top, next to “female” and the time of my birth…was one word.

Twin.

I was born at 8am on the dot. At 8:02 am, my sister was born. We came into this world together…a pair. A unit. Two against the world. My dad refers to us as Pete and Repeat…get it? Funny guy.

I get asked a lot what it’s like to have a twin. I usually don’t know what to say, because I don’t know what it’s like not to have a twin.

Here’s what it’s like to be a twin.
It’s a gift. Imagine never having to go through anything alone. Every moment-good, bad and indifferent-my sister is somehow, part of it. I know this is how it is for a lot of siblings, too. But being a twin is different.

It’s out of this world. I can tell you, at any moment, what kind of mood my sister is in. I can’t sleep if I don’t know she’s ok. I literally feel her pain, and this is not some mumbo jumbo bullshit. The first time I really realized this was when she tore open her knee at our grandparents house when we were little and had to go to the E.R…and I remember screaming as if it was happening to me, I could feel it. I also remember her being a pissed off 7 year old when all the attention was given to me…and she was the actual injured one.

It’s like looking in a mirror, but the reflection looking back at me is the person I wish I could be. My sister is everything I wish I was. Where I’m a hard-ass, she’s sensitive. When I’m dramatic, she’s calm. I’m guarded, and I admire her open heart.

Being a twin, you’re sometimes forced into “roles”…it’s natural. For all intents and purposes, I’ve been the leader. My voice is louder, but her voice is stronger. I’m the social butterfly, but I think she’s the better friend. I appear to have the thicker skin, but she stands firmer than I ever have.

Nobody can make me laugh more hysterically or cry harder than my sister. Nobody can make me feel better, or infuriate me more (or faster) than my sister. My sister can make me feel great, or like shit with one word, one look. I believe I’ve mentioned this before, but after the incident, my sister was one of the only people I could talk to, or be around. I literally clung to her for dear life, on more than one occasion. I slept in her room for a week, and she would sit in the bathroom with me while I got ready because I was scared.

Not much in my life has been stable-and while there has always been a lot of love, there was not much, nor many people, I could count on. Gabby is the one and only thing, only person, I’ve ever been able to count on. For those of you who know me in real life, you know we fight…and we fight diiiiirty. Being roommates, as well as twins, is tricky, and strains our relationship. I feel like we’ve come to a place where we take each other for granted. I can say, without a shadow of a doubt though, that my sister is the most important person in my life.  There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.  Nothing.

I came into this world labeled as a Twin, but it’s more than a label. It’s a precious gift, and I’m so lucky to have a twin like Gabby. I used to fight being called “the girls” or “the twins” but it’s who I am. I am not me without her. My identity is wrapped up in someone else’s, and lucky for me that person is genuine, loyal, witty and beautiful, inside and out. She is my best friend, she is (literally) my better half, and she’s the voice of reason in my crazy life. I can’t breathe without her.

I guess that’s what it’s like to be a twin. This sums it up more than this blog post ever could though…

From EE Cummings Poem “I Carry Your Heart With Me”

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

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I am nooo food blogger, obviously.  There are plenty of amazing ones out there, and cooking has never been much of a passion of mine.  Plus, do you know who my sister is?! Ms. Culinary School herself, Gabby?  Yeah, so there’s really been no need for me to venture into her domain.  I know my role.

Until tonight.  Tonight I borrowed her totes adorable Anthropologie apron (because if I’m going to cook, I’m gonna look cute), put my blackberry down and made a super healthy, and yummy fritatta loaded with veggies for dinner. All by myself.  My blog is just me…fashion, men, love, my pursuit of happiness and also, being healthy, which has become a huge part of my life as of late.  I know how to drop weight fast, and subsequently feel like shit in the process.  I could exist on coffee and a few almonds, but I’m choosing not to do it that way this time.  I’m also working out so hard that my body needs food-but the right kinds.  I’m so inspired/supported by blogs like 20somethingcupcakes, (blog/girl crush alert!) and of course everyone at In It To Gym It.

All the working out and eating right is definitely having physical affects, but I’m sleeping better, and you guys know I have the worst insomnia.  My anxiety is decreasing rapidly.  I have more energy during the day and a sense of control where I didn’t have it before.  So while I might go on and on about getting bikini ready, and the photoshoot I have next week, and yay my jeans are baggy-at the end of the day, the mental and emotional reasons are the ones that keep me going.

Bethenny Frankel’s “Naturally Thin” Easy Impressive Frittata (The recipe shown is for 1 person-I was feeding 3, so I kept the egg to yolk ratio and added about 5 cups of veggies. The more the merrier!)
Cooking spray
1 cup vegetables (onions, spinach, zucchini, broccoli, or tomatoes)
1 egg yolk and 3 to 4 egg whites
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 tablespoon crumbled feta or grated Parmesan
Cooking Directions

Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray a small nonstick pan with an ovenproof handle with cooking spray.
Over medium heat, sauté the vegetables.
In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolk and egg whites with a little salt and pepper.
Pour the egg mixture into the pan and move it around with a spatula until slightly solidified.
Transfer the pan to the oven.
Bake until the frittata is almost firm to the touch (approximately 15 to 20 minutes). Sprinkle with the cheese and bake until firm.
Serve immediately.

Don’t judge my pictures, ya’ll. Tasted way better than it looked, and it was Gabby approved. I’m just stoked I pushed myself to do something different, because chicken breast and broccoli every night was making me incredibly stab stab stabby. Don’t like eggs? Try something else!

New post is up at We Love Dates…On To The Next. (I know I’ve been directing you to click here! and go there! tons lately-and I truly want you guys to know how much I appreciate your support. Love you, absolutely mean it.)

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via thanks to the beauty file

It’s hot in here.

Possibly because I currently have 3 appliances plugged in (blow dryer, flat iron, curling iron), all to achieve the effortless waves you like so much, and I realize that the next time I want to deny that I am high maintenance, I’ll just effing sigh in resignation. I concede.

I wonder if I’ll ever be a “wash and wear” hair kind of girl, and if not what does that say about me? Decide not to give it a second thought. Decide not to care what people think if I include that in a blog post. For now, it means I’ll have pretty princess hair for the day, so WIN.

I wonder if I can tell you how happy I am that you’re here. I wonder if it’s too soon to tell you that lately my blessings are feeling like burdens, but I’m working on it-I wonder if you’ll understand what I mean and not judge me. I wonder if you’ll care that a broken friendship of mine is mending and that makes me really happy. I wonder if you’ll ask the right questions, say the right things-I wonder how I’ll react when you don’t. I wonder what will happen when you read the.blog.

Make-up time. It’s amazing what a little Nars Orgasm blush can do. Orgasm. I wonder what it will be like…

I wonder what it will be like when I stop wondering and just know. Know exactly what you smell like after a shower, or when you wake up, or come home from a bike ride and my fabulous, albeit yoga pants clad ass pauses the Kardashians long enough to give you a hug, because I don’t care that you’re sweaty. In fact, I kinda love it. I wonder what it will be like when you know all my friends names, faces and life stories, who’s fighting with who and who’s opinions really matter, who (or who’s boyfriend) will come after you with a hockey stick if you hurt me. I wonder what it will be like when you have coffee (or a martini, knowing her) with my sister, alone, because she’s my world and I’m your world and they’re colliding.

I wonder what it will be like when we bridge the communication gap, the distance gap, the schedule gap. I wonder if we’ll ever completely bridge every.single.gap life throws at us, and I doubt it. I decide again not to worry about it, and instead just hold on to your hand tighter and jump. I decide that if I’m going to be doing all this jumping around, I should do it in style, so I buy these jeans. Something about jumping around screams, “BUY THE HUNTER BOOTS“ to me, so I do. I mean, maybe with all this jumping I’ll land in a puddle, and a girl has got to protect herself.

And if I stumble into that puddle sans the hunter boots, would you lay your coat over it to save my pink satin stilettos?

I wonder…

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Oh, hi. It’s my birthday. So remember when I was all ohhh I miss you and I’m totes attacking your blogs with a vengeance and making WordPress my bitch and then I didn’t? Well, you can’t be mad at me because it’s my birthday and I make the rules.  All that stress from last week is now revealing itself in the form of a flu/cold and attacking my shitshow of an immune system.  I’ve been rilly busy anxiously watching the Olympics (I freak when they fall!), and guzzling theraflu. OH, and I was just brought the Canadian version of theraflu, because it’s stronger. So thats fitting, no? Get it?

Ok.

It’s Feb 17th-and…I was born 19 years ago. Do you believe that? REALLY? Although! I was at the DMV last week for 6 hours of my life I’d love to get back and they asked if I was there to take my drivers license test for the first time and I decided to take this as a sign that all the money I spend on “age prevention” is totally working and my Sephora purchases are completely justified. RATHER than I look like complete hell/jailbait without makeup and hair and the whole nine.

Anyways.

So, I’m sick today. Whatever. It’s Wednesday and not much is going on, just MY BIRTHDAY.  And perhaps pancakes with Kelly at 1 am, cuz that’s how we roll. Friday begins THREE CONSECUTIVE WEEKENDS of what I like to call “Jesus be a fence or cheers to making some bad decisions.”

This weekend-birthday and bloggy fun, Cali style. Next weekend-birthday and bloggy fun, VEGAS STYLE. My two worlds colliding. With Ali! And Kathleen! Blog friends turned “real lifers” my life would be empty without are rallying 2 weekends in a row. Glorious. Here’s to topless vampire revues and dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly like it’s my job.

And then…a round trip plane ticket to San Fran showed up in my inbox. From a boy who is sneaking his way into my heart. HOW SWOON WORTHY IS THAT?  So I’ll be in SF the first weekend in March. I’ll be fairly busy making out with his hotness, but if you want to get coffee or a shot, let me know.

SO YEAH. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! And my twin sister of course! I don’t have any revelations or deep thoughts on this birthday-I just want to have FUN. A little magical fun. Good goal, right?

Breaking news-new computer arrived as I’m typing this post…so, it’s OFFICIAL this time. I’m back, dolls. God, I’m so addicted to the internet it’s absurd. Have a lovely Liz’s birthday day!

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Testing, testing…

Not sure who’s going to be reading this lil post.  Can I just explain something to you guys?  I’ve received so many (sweet) emails regarding my switch to WP-basically along the lines of “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT YOU ARE GOING TO LOSE ALL YOUR FOLLOWERS AND SPONSORS AND NO MORE FREE STUFF AND NO MORE 100 COMMENTS PER POST AND HOW CAN I FOLLOW YOU I AM SO SAD I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You can still follow me.  We are still friends, and I love you.  I still have my sponsors to the left, to the left, and while we’re talking about them, you should prob check out their shops after reading this here post. I think the protocol for someone like me to up and switch to WP is supposed to go like this-

Get a badass WP site designed by a bloggy bestie turned real lifer. CHECK. P.S. Lilu also does Blogger layouts, but WP is way better. (Google it.)

Make sure every single person who has ever read your blog is aware of your change. Stalk them, bug them, remind them to update their feeds. HAVE YOU DONE THAT, by the way? Just. Sayin.

Comment the shit out of the blogosphere so that everyone knows, hi I’m still here, but on WordPress, you look so pretty and did you update your feed/reader/email/sidebar yet?

Unfortunately, these things had to be put on hold for a lil. Life happened.

I had a wake up call, a few actually, in a very short time span.   I’ve been extremely lucky, in my life to not have experienced many “WHAT IF” moments. And I’m not talking about the what if I’m having a bad hair day, or what if he doesn’t like me, or what if this bra cracks my ribs.  I’m talking about the big what if’s, the ones that haunt you.

After I lost control of my car Friday, I did what I will probably always do when I’m scared, no matter how old I get.  I called my dad and hysterically cried.  Trying to break through my sobbing he said- “Honey, IS EVERYONE OK? CAN YOU WALK? IS YOUR MOM OK?” “uh huh” I said…and then he said, “Well, then it’s ok. Nothing else matters. Everything else can be fixed.”

Everything else can be fixed.

I was taking my laptop to my techy man friends house because on Thursday night it just stopped working. INSERT PANIC. I hate Friday afternoon’s on  freeways, especially in the rain but- I NEEDMYCOMPUTER-how the hell was I supposed to survive my change to WP without my laptop, comments, posting, emails, twitter, work, pictures, gchat, shoot me in the face.

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have read me bitching about having a BMW and how expensive they are to repair.  Yeah, I’m keenly aware of how lame and spoiled I sound. My mom said later that I’m lucky I have said BMW-because it’s heavy, sturdy and maybe a different car wouldn’t have kept us as safe.

I’m not going to be cliche’ and say, having a computer no longer matters to me, and spending money on a car only to crash it the next day is just dirt off my shoulder. Um, no. It fucking sucks.

But everything can be fixed.

Losing control of my car is a huge metaphor for where I’m at in my life-and I apologize for the cheesiness of that statement. I am here for a reason, and there are some things I need to get under control. I’ve been given a second chance, a free pass-a costly one, but a free one. I want to continue to do good things-to touch people’s hearts, to make a difference. I want to notice the little things and hug my loved ones a little tighter. I want to be open to my purpose.  I want to love my life, not just during the good, fabulous, glamorous times. I want to hug my sister just because…not just because we realized what could have been lost.

Talking to Lauren today, I had a bit of an epiphany.  I, admittedly, am the most extreme person on earth.  I love it or hate it. I’m all or nothing. I’m ecstatic jumping up and down life of the party or I’m not answering my phone and hiding under the covers.  I’m either a complete sweetheart or a total bitch.

She likened my life to a roller-coaster, and it has been-my entire life has been the HIGHEST of highs or LOWEST of lows.  Most of this hasn’t been my fault.  My childhood was crazy glamorous and also insanely sad.

My adult life has followed this same pattern. I don’t think I know how to just…be. Happy medium. It’s not comfortable for me, there always must be extreme emotions happening-but I need to learn to get there. I want to break this pattern. Because now, even in my personal low’s…

Everything can be fixed. And my life-even if things aren’t at the highest of highs, should be treasured, each moment, each breath, I want to make more beautiful than the last.

For now, I smile. Smiling is the new black, haven’t you heard?

Thank you for reading this. I have a computer on the way, and will be back in full effect on Monday with the damn Covergirl review, talks of bloggy meet ups, and birthdays in Vegas. This is my last week of being…21. ha.

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I was on a conference call last week, and it turned into a complete mess, as most conf calls do. One girl, on the East coast who I’ve never met but have developed a rapport with via phone and email, kept trying to say something valid but nobody would listen. Finally she was able to break through the bitching, moaning and blame game to say, “I know this won’t change anything, but I need to be heard. I need to say this.” And went on to make her point.

Girlfriends. Le sigh, right? So many blogs on the subject, I know. I’ve posted about it before and I adore this post by my friend Brown Girl, as well.

{This post isn’t about the Blair to my Serena, just clarifying so ya’ll don’t have to google it. We’re solid.}

I’ve been called stuck up and a bitch by girls who haven’t spoken one word to me. This scares me into not wanting to try. I am moody, flighty and at times, my mind changes at the last minute. My life is so crazy and complicated that often I don’t let potential friends all the way in because it’s hard to know who to trust, and frankly, sometimes I can’t worry about letting down one.more.person. I come off snobby when I don’t mean to at all because I get very quiet if I’m uncomfortable or out of my element. I might make plans with you because I really do want to see you, but have to cancel because of above said crazy life, or because I just need to sit in my room and decompress and I’m afraid to tell you all the crazy going on in my head. Sometimes I forget to write thank you cards. I am too hard on myself and sometimes that means I can be too hard on my friends. I’m working on all these things, and I appreciate the girls in my life who make me want to be a better friend, you know who you are.But, if you need to talk, you better call me! When you’re really sick, I will pray and rally my troops and get a whole heck of a lotta people praying for you. If you’re in the hospital, I will want to be by your side. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I will stay up all night with you talking, I will hate the guy who hurt your heart, call him names and cry with you. I will tell you what shoes you should wear and yes, of course duh, you can borrow mine and sure, I’ll do your makeup before your date! If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. I will tell you highly inappropriate jokes to make you laugh when you’re upset. If you live across the country, I’ll buy a plane ticket simply because I want to sit on the couch with you and watch Curb, because I love you. I’ll support your decisions, celebrate your achievements, encourage your dreams, sympathize with your pms, remind you of your worth should you forget, be in your wedding, do the makeup for your wedding, and so on and so forth… Meaning…once you’re in my heart, you’re in. Super glued, cemented, and I do the best I can.

This weekend, I was hurt by a very good friend. Or so I thought she was. I don’t want to slander her publicly because she’s doing it enough to herself and I feel more pity for her than anything else but…I NEED TO BE HEARD. I feel conned, used, taken for granted and sad. Angry? Latina fury? Hell yes. But sad because I trusted her, she was in my heart…and I just don’t understand. Life happens, people aren’t who they seem and I hope she gets the help that she so desperately needs. There are no excuses for the way she treated me…and until she owns up to that, I can’t have her in my life. And it hurts to write that, and mean it.

{This picture isn’t nice. But it made me laugh.}

Thank you for being here, friends.

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{Update on Chrystina-She hasn’t had surgery yet, if I get into it it will just be a really frustrated rant, lets just say hospital transfers take forever…but by the time we wake up tomorrow she should be out of it! Thank you for all the sweet words and prayers-she is able to read them and I know they touched her greatly. I’ll let you know…please keep praying though I love you guys…she does too!}

4. I know I’m keeping a guy around for awhile when I go “Tell me a story”…and he does. Ask my ex’s (hellooo gentleman, I know you’re reading/lurking)…they all passed that test. Almost nothing else makes me feel more safe and secure. Hello, I’m a toddler.

6. Most embarassing moment-this year, thus far-Umm so I like to sing in my car. Sometimes to the Pussycat Dolls “I Hate This Part”…and sometimes my phone likes to magically dial my good friends HUSBAND…on who’s voice mail I BELTED OUT THAT SONG, with some PASSION, people… better move over, Nicole. They liked to play it back for me/at parties so much they burned it to a C.D. Awesome. JERKS!

7. I really like being alone sometimes. Maybe because I’ve always had a wombmate? I get really antsy/bitchy/aggravated if I don’t get enough alone time. I’m either super social or a super recluse.

10. I know, I know…you KNOW. I get to meet my Brooke! And her fashion plate little ladies! And her hubby! And her sister! Trip is booked, signed, sealed, DELIVERED I’m there! Had to be pushed back a few weeks due to my tonsils/tranny-itis, but never the less…it’s done and done. So. Excited. Onemind oneheart onelifesource…and lemme just warn ya…there will be many more mentions of this little adventure. I’ve never flown across the country to meet anyone. But she’s not just anyone. Meant to be, I tell ya…(I call the blue ones lil lady. lol)

Now, I’m sure your life is complete.

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Hey dolls,

I missed my people! I DO have some more amazing guest posts coming this week though. The real reason I decided to blog today is because you can color me inspired…

To which I responded not unlike a 5 yr old- “WHAT IS IT?!” “OMG REALLY?!” and then proceeded to Twitter about it like a nutjob. I don’t think it’s necessary to explain why I am obsessed with Diane Von Furstenberg, because you probably are too. Legend, Icon, Trendsetter, Feminist, can’t imagine the fashion industry without her…etc, etc. Although they are magic, she is so much more than a wrap dress designer. (I am including my favorite looks from her Fall 09 Collection in this post-badass!)My hellish weekend-ohhh yes lovelies, not to bring any more pity to my party, let’s just say that Friday was just the tip of the iceberg-was wrapped up with a girl talk session in Huntington Beach with my friend Jessica, followed by fro yo for dinner in a coma like state while texting Brooke-gotta give props to my girl Ms. OOFA, as she answered every teary play by play phone call this wknd, and was basically my rock…of love…Brooke is quite the blessing. The pesky 3 hour time diff had her pretty little head asleep while I was still awake, so since I hadn’t had a chance to start reading my book yet, I picked it up and crawled into bed.

{I really wanna sit at this table. Sophia, Diane, Ashley.}

The first chapter, titled “The Woman Across the Room” felt like it had been written for me, maybe because at the time she wrote the book we seem to be going through some of the same growing pains, so to speak. The below are just a few of my favorite quotes-it’s so good I ALMOST wanted to bust out a highlighter but then I remembered-vintage…not text book lol “You see her across the room. She is an elegant creature with her every hair in place, her clothes just perfect. She seems confident and relaxed, cool and unflappable. There, you think, is a woman who feels secure.

“As I began organizing my thoughts and started writing, it occured to me that I really did have something important to say, not just about the practicalities of dress and makeup-all of which-are useful but also about that wonderful and terribly frightening journey of self-discovery. That process of growth, of being an independent person, of learning who you are and what you want from life, is the real secret of life, happiness and beauty.”

On describing her transition from self described spoiled party girl to The Woman Across the Room-

Speaking of books…I finished LA Candy, as did Gabby. It was easy, breezy, and I’m sending it off to Ms. Bella Cene’…who will pass it on to Brooke…If you want it after that, let me know! We can pass around L.C’s masterpiece!

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I made Sangria last night! Pretty proud of myself as my sis usually handles these things (these things being anything in the kitchen), while I usually handle drinking them! Check it out on my sister’s blog here. But remember I MADE IT haha. Oh sisters. Yes, to answer you all who caught that on my last post-Gabby, She Wrote and I are twins! Crazy, right? Yin and yang or whatever… but there is nothing like being a twin!

And just a reminder…this is your last chance to enter my It’s Unbeweavable Hair and Make-up Giveaway! Yes, the longest giveaway in blog history will finally come to an end…I think I looked at the calendar wrong when planning, but hey more time for YOU.

LOTS of fun stuff next week on le blog. I’m going to try to step away from the laptop this weekend but we’ll see how that goes…I guess if I blog this weekend you’ll know my date with drummer boy=fail!

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Memories can be triggered by so many things. A commercial, a song, a smell…when you least expect it, can take you back…

Yesterday, I spent some time with my Mom. I have one of the coolest mothers ever, she’s really my best friend and probably my favorite shopping buddy. I was on the hunt for yet another pair of leggings, maxi dresses, sunglasses, cheap and cheerful stuff for summer. Somehow, shockingly, we stopped into CVS on the way back…because I NEEDED something. As I wandered down the cosmetics aisle, not looking for anything particular, I found this…and I thought my Mom and I were going to completely loose it in CVS.

Coty Airspun Loose Powder. Ay yi yi…

Anyway…yesterday. My mom and I stopped dead in our tracks when we saw Coty loose powder at CVS. The old school packaging first grabbed our attention and we were both like no way do they have this here!? and then…when we opened it…the smell. It smelled like Nana. It was like every childhood memory came rushing back to me. My Mom said it reminded her of her grandmother. We both got teary, and started smelling it like two crazies This is Nana when she was I believe, around my age.

My Nana was gone long before she passed away. Seeing someone I love more than life deteriorate over a period of ten years is one of the most horrible experiences I have ever had. I just, we all just wanted her back, but she was lost inside herself. Nana kept trying to sketch for me, her hand shaking, until she just couldn’t do it anymore.

Because I was so young during the good years while she was so healthy and vibrant, it’s hard for me not to look back and automatically remember the hard years. The last time I saw her, everyone left the room and I held her hand and said my goodbyes. I like to believe, have to believe, that she knew I was there, that she could hear me tell her how much I love her.

Yesterday I left CVS with Vanity Fair Magazine, some gum…and Coty Airspun Loose Powder. I will never use it, but in a way seeing it in MY bathroom next to MY perfumes and makeup, makes me feel that much closer to Nana. Like maybe I have a bit of her back, and if I catch a whiff of the stuff (it’s strong)…I’ll be reminded of the happy years. I miss Nana, but our family celebrates her, and she would be very upset if I was writing a bummer post about her, so while writing this does make me cry, this post is in no way depressing. Nana is why I love fashion, why I do what I do, why I am who I am.

So on another note, kinda, while I was looking for this picture of Nana, I found a picture of Gabby, She Wrote and I, circa maybe 1987? Things haven’t changed a bit! I’m still a terror, and she’s still sweet as pie. (Allegedly)

And now I have the same bangs! Talk about full circle…Have a lovely weekend dolls! XOXO, Liz

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