Welcome to Alabama, Y’all

July 19, 2010 at 10:41 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 46 Comments
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A few weeks ago my hubs-to-be and I traveled to Mobile, Alabama for a friend’s wedding. (You can tell how much we adore said friend because we voluntarily went to the miserably hot South in July, and you know how well I do in the heat). Whoodles, I packed the same way I would for a normal summer weekend/wedding getaway: shorts, t-shirts, bathing suit, little black dress, “going out” clothes, etc.  

The stylin' ladies of Mobile, Alabama!

 

But as soon as we arrived at the Mobile airport and saw the locals, I realized the error of my ways.  

I did not pack anything like this pastel-perfection (complete with parasol). I don’t even OWN anything like this! So I turned to some of my most trusted advisors for an explanation…  

  • My bloggier half asserted that they must be preparing to stand atop a gigantic Barbie Cake.
  • My super-stylish mom told me she hoped the *ahem* gowns came in black or dark grey so she could sport one come 10/10/10 – after all, pastels don’t really mesh well with my wedding color scheme.  She also decided to skip the umbrella (no need to show off, after all), and justified this extravagant purchase by saying she can wear this “unique” outfit to a number of functions this year…
  • My fab future mom-in-law is using this as a threat for her high school daughter: Behave or this will be your prom dress next year!
  • My MOH, Rhymes with Tzarina, told me I’d need more help explaining this “style” than she could provide, and implored me to turn to you, dear reader(s), for insight.

   

What’s your explanation?  

~Sarah

Special Exhibit – Limited Time Only!

March 29, 2010 at 7:53 am | Posted in Misc. | 6 Comments
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Last week I flew to visit a client out of state, which means that I got to experience the joy of the TSA twice (there and back) in less than 48 hours. And both times they put me on display (sob) in a square glass cell!

Have you ever seen that Pledge commercial where a housewife is stuck in a room surrounded by glass walls that’s full of dusty furniture, and she cleans the whole place easily (with Pledge, of course) to get out in time to pick up her kids? Well, the glass cells I recently experienced were both far dirtier and more awkward (with less comfortable seating) than the supposedly filthy one in that commercial!

In terms of awkwardness, the cell is in the middle of the security area where every traveling clown could point and laugh at me, the real animal in the cage. And no one threw popcorn into the cage like at a zoo! Seriously, little kids stared, tugged on their mothers’ clothes and asked what the “bad lady” was doing in the “time out box.”

And don’t even get me started on the cleanliness issue… (shudder)

Why, you may ask, was I singled out as a threat and made to wait in a glass cell in the middle of airport security while the delightful TSA staff determined my individual threat level? After all, I sure look like a hardened criminal…

Apparently my boot is a security hazard!! That’s right – along with an aching ankle, I could store all sorts of mayhem and mischief-makers in it! And so, since I couldn’t remove my boot and put it through the X-ray machine with my carry-on and my right shoe, I got “special treatment” as a suspected terrorist (okay, okay, I’m exaggerating – but it is funny to picture myself on a most wanted list).

Leaving Boston that special attention meant waiting to be “swabbed” in the glass cell while my boss watched over my luggage, jacket and right shoe. They swabbed my boot and my hands, ran a metal detector around the boot, and then had me stand on a mat in the cell while I waited. Returning to Boston that special attention meant being removed from the line and first placed in the body scanner (at least buy me dinner first!), and then being quarantined in the cell (a.k.a. on display) while my boot and hands were swabbed a second time.

Frankly, I haven’t felt this mysterious in ages, and, other than the considerable delays and unwanted spotlight, it makes me feel like kind of a big deal! Plus I was offered wheelchair assistance (which I didn’t take, of course), allowed to cut in line for the restroom (definitely said yes to that offer, and had the chance to board the plane first (if I wanted to…but I didn’t. Why would I voluntarily sit on a cruddy puddle jumper for longer than I had to? They’re just lucky I didn’t toss my cookies in flight!).

If you can’t tell, I’m pretty darn sick of this accessory, but determined to keep discovering silver linings – especially amusing ones!

~ Sarah

April’s Early… And Philosophical

March 5, 2010 at 11:41 am | Posted in Misc. | 7 Comments
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I’m heading to Buffalo and Rochester this weekend to see The Other Sister and my parents and brother. Because I’m too cheap to take a cab to the train station, I had Mike drop me off at the train at 7 a.m. as usual, which meant that even though I met Sarah at North Station for an early-morning gabfest, I still got to the airport almost three hours before my flight is scheduled to depart. That fact alone is worth noting because, although I have flown countless times in the past few years (and out of the US Airways terminal in particular) and am thus quite familiar with TSA regulations, I am always that person who has to be escorted to the head of the screening line because her plane is about to take off.

Hoodles, I’m not used to having time to kill. I had a leisurely Dunkin’ Donuts breakfast pre-security (turkey sausage flatbread and small lite vanilla latte – delish!), slowly made my way through security, took the prerequisite potty break and meandered to my gate. And I still have over an hour.

So here I am, one of just a handful of people waiting for the plane, and I am definitely the annoying girl typing on her BlackBerry, jamming to tunes and texting on her phone. And I’m living the dream here with my feet on my carry-on and a great view of the hustle and bustle of Logan Airport. Watching the planes taxi and baggage handlers chuck bags on the trucks, I’m reminded of how my father used to take me to watch the planes land and take off when I was really little. This was way back when you could meet arrivals right at the gate. I loved to watch the planes and imagine where they were going and where they’d been.

Things have changed a lot since then. And by the way, I realize how old that makes me sound. I also remember when you could smoke in malls and get a meal (for free) on any flight. But that’s a story for another day. Even with full body scans, U.S. Marshalls and liquid restrictions (not to mention the delays, smaller cabins, astronomical prices and fee-based snacks), I still love to fly. I love the unlimited possibilities of hopping on a plane and just going somewhere, anywhere. I love the feeling of soaring above the clouds. And I love the whole no phones or BlackBerries rule. The horizon is one of the last bastions of solitude for me.

So as I prepare to embark on a weekend filled with hockey, family, old friends and good food (and PLEASE stop reminding me I’m on a diet! Everything in moderation is my mantra these days), I encourage you all to take some time this weekend to do something you truly love, be it off-key singing along with 80s Madonna, taking a walk on the beach, reading a trashy gossip rag or bedazzling your Snuggie.

~April

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