Hello Friends! Welcome Back!

To whom it may concern (and to those that peep on the low— we see you, boo, we see you):

After months of throwing around this project, $cruz and I decided to finally commit!  Yes, it is true, I Heart Shiny Things is no longer with us. It met its demise after the .com expired and we decided not to keep it going. We pulled the plug for various reasons, but mainly because our hearts and our souls weren’t into it. I Heart Shiny Things was like a college scrapbook and slam book all at once. Five years after it began (half a DECADE), we decided it was time to end that chapter in our lives.

We dress, think, and LIVE differently than when we did at 22 years old. These two 27-year old gal pals and eternal Golden Girl roommates are grown women. I’d  like to think we are better versions of ourselves. Back then, we were rotting Capri Suns forgotten in some kid’s backpack, and now we’ve aged like wine. Notice that I didn’t say fine wine, we aren’t quite there yet since we still have some maturing to do. I’d like to think we’ve aged like an exquisite full-bodied 7-Eleven wine.

On a serious note, this blog is still a space where two sassy brown girls can air out their thoughts and perspectives. This time around, we will get  a little more personal by discussing our lives, hopes, wishes, rants, or day-to-day. Of course, we will not get into any sordid details; we both have mothers and classic brown girl shame.

Why The Boss Bitch Bulletin, you ask? The term began as a way to explain our “growing up” process. It is frightening to think of getting older. The thought of going from, “Hey, let’s do some day-drinking and be human hurricanes of destruction” to, “hey guys, Jenga night at my house, virgin daiquiris for all!” was too much to stomach. You know what I say to that idea of getting old? Jenga tu madre- we refuse to go down that path of turning into a bore.

With age, however, comes “regalacity”: the state of being regal, majestic, elegant, and fancy. Understanding the finer things in life not only in luxury items, but in attitude and demeanor. Getting kicked out of venues for drinking too much, or being a selfish jerk to people can only get you so far.

Who would you rather be with? Mr. Big from Sex and the City? or Dennis from 30 Rock? The answer is Mr. Big, ALWAYS.

We are bringing mature realness. Grown and sexy is very much applicable here, except I think the word “sexy” is so tacky. There’s something so 80’s and gross about it, but that is neither here nor there. This is it, we are leaping into the blogosphere again. I hope we’ve been missed— even if it was a little bit.

Sincerely,

Maribel (a.k.a La Marb$/Marble$)

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