Rich People Problems

July 9, 2013 at 11:37 am | Posted in Family, Married Life | Leave a comment
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The other day the hubs and I were bickering about household chores – he feels like he does the lion’s share and that I spend more time reading baseball blogs than helping.  I feel like he needs to relax every once in a while and understand that our house will never be as clean or tidy as he imagines it should be.

Okay, okay, it was the opposite, but sometimes it’s refreshing to pretend it’s the gal who puts sports over washing bottles.  Annnywho, in one of my dramatic retorts, I said something like:

“Fine, I’ll just get the maid to do it!  But you never help plan menus with the chef, the gardener is still waiting to hear exactly how many millimeters you’d like him to hand trim off the lawn, and the chauffeur has really been slacking on polishing the dipstick handle.  Can you get off your lazy butt and order people around for a change?  Or do I have to manage the staff alone as usual?”

I think my golden throne (haha) needs polishing!  Where's the bathroom maid?!?

I think my golden throne (haha) needs polishing! Where’s the bathroom maid?!?

It was enough to break the tension between us, but that got me thinking: is that how fights between the uber rich actually sound?  What do the gajillionaire couples of the world squabble about?  Because I’ll bet it’s not dishes, laundry, or which bill to pay first and which to postpone.

I think an experiment is in order.  Here’s what I propose: give me a few gajillion dollars (one of you can give me a lump sum or take up a collection or something; how you make this happen isn’t the important part – don’t be penny wise and gajillion foolish).  I’ll move into a mansion, hire a full-fledged staff (first hire: a personal assistant and then a household manager who will actually hire the rest of the staff for me – that’s not something a gajillionaire like me should have to concern herself with), and report back.  I promise to answer this, and any other questions you have about how the upper crust lives.  We’ll all be the wiser!

You can’t put a price on knowledge like that.  But do try.

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An Old Married Lady Already?

October 4, 2010 at 8:21 am | Posted in Spam | Leave a comment
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I won’t even be hitched until this weekend, but already society has written me off as old married lady. Don’t believe me? I got this in the mail on Saturday:

AARP says I should be retired already... count me IN!

That’s right – apparently I now qualify for membership in the American Association of Retired Persons. Ummm… Yeah…

In my quest to always find the silver lining, I’ve decided to interpret this as a sign that I shouldn’t work anymore. Apparently it’s time to retire, and that sounds dreamy to me! Andrew, however, is less than taken with the idea, citing the reality of bills, saving for a down-payment on a house, supporting our future children (don’t get too excited yet, Mo, RWFOTB and mom-in-law Kathy: this is not our way of saying I’m preggers). He is clearly not seeing the bigger picture. 

Another plus? I love early dinners and early bedtimes – I think I’d make a lively addition to the early bird special club, the news programs are too depressing these days to bother staying up past 10 p.m., and the modern marvel of “Digital Video Recording” (or whatever you kids are calling it these days) will ensure I can watch all my stories at a reasonable hour – like 8 p.m., when I treat myself to my nightly glass of warm milk.

And finally, the benefit that really sold me: senior discounts! Forget student rates (don’t judge, Andrew is a student again!), seniors have the discount market cornered! Restaurants, attractions – you name it, they can save! So count me in, AARP!

~Sarah

(but you can call me Mrs. Wilderrol, you rude little whipper-snapper)

Running Into Trouble

August 12, 2010 at 8:57 am | Posted in Around Boston | 18 Comments
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Last night I went for a run around the neighborhood. With my iPod blaring upbeat tunes and my new sneaks cushioning my feet, I was rockin’ it… until I heard the unmistakable “yip-yip-yip” of one of the dogs in my ‘hood. The little bitch (and I say that in the purely scientific sense, of course) has barked at me before, but last night the annoying canine took it to a whole new level. Darn dog literally followed me down the street, barking and snarling the whole way.

Was I scared? No. The dog is barely bigger than a sewer rat (though with a shorter tail) and too small and fat to keep up with me. And every time I turned around and looked at it, the little bully whined and scampered in the other direction.

Was I annoyed? Yes. But only moderately annoyed with the insecure dog. What really bugged me was the owner! When we were about a house and a half away from the little thing’s home, her owner came out and started yelling. At me. Apparently it was my fault her dog was making such a ruckus and my fault the dog had run so far. Which meant it was my fault that she had to get up from watching her stories and hustle (if you can call it that) down the street to retrieve her little mutt.

I was hot.  I was sweaty.  I was uncomfortable (sometimes running hurts). I was self-righteous. And it took every ounce of strength I had not to really give it to the obnoxious pet-owner. I simply and very rationally suggested that she should try an electric fence or a tether if she didn’t want to get off her butt to chase her dog all over the neighborhood.

And boy did that suggestion anger the beast: she started to raise her voice even higher and get even nastier. And here’s where the beauty of running comes in. Under normal circumstances, I would have let my temper get the best of me and put that idiotic woman in her place. But because I was already over two miles into my run, I was exhausted and knew I needed to conserve energy to make it the rest of the way. So I channeled every non-violent hero story I’ve ever read, said “Have a nice evening,” put my headphones back on, and continued running my route.

And you know what? It wasn’t very satisfying. Like April who has perfected the art of arguing in the shower, I’m still thinking of snarky remarks I could have made. I may even be storing them up because I’m fairly certain we’ll have another run-in one of these days…

Any suggestions?

~Sarah

The (un)Civil War’s Final Stand… (We Hope)

July 20, 2010 at 9:23 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments
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We are totally blown away by our dear readers’ (both old and new) support – your logical, credible and witty comments have brightened our days and we couldn’t ask for more “genteel” e-friends.  And so, it is with this overwhelming appreciation that we post what we hope will be the last entry regarding what we’re affectionately referring to as CW2 (Civil War II). Why not end it with April’s last post, you may ask? Well, it wouldn’t be fair to you. 

It has come to our attention that throngs of our reader(s) decided to voice their displeasure directly on our apparent-nemesis’ blog – an appropriate venue, if we do say so ourselves. Unfortunately, if you have visited his website recently, you’ll note that Mod/Valso/whatever other name he chooses to hide behind has actively chosen not to post ANY of your comments. And that’s just not right. Here’s his latest missive: 

 

(Warning – I’m heading getting on my soapbox) Blogs are about dialogue, discussion, and even the occasional conflict (but not too often – you know it sends me into a tizzy). If we didn’t want any response or reaction, we – and I’m including Mod/Valso in this – could simply write our musings in journals and hide them under our beds. 

And so, dear reader(s), if there are other messages you want to get out, messages that were censored when you tried to post them, NOW is the time to do it, and this is the place. 

Bring on the catharsis! 

And then we can move on to our regularly scheduled silly observations!! 

~ Sarah 

The (un)Civil War Continues

July 20, 2010 at 1:58 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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In case you missed it, yesterday Sarah posted a picture of what we later learned are Azalea Trail Maids at the Mobile airport. And she unwittingly ignited a firestorm. We were quite surprised by the flurry of comments, especially the nasty ones from Southerners espousing, but hardly demonstrating, so-called Southern charm.

And honestly, part of what surprised us was that was not one of our better posts. Really? Mobilians are inflamed by a Bostonian’s curiosity about women dressed in frilly pastel gowns but not a soul comments when we mock a poster at church?

Hoodles, the feud continues today.  Being the, ahem, snarkier of your faithful bloggers, I wrote my own response to Mobile’s uproar. And I was pretty civil about the situation. But our good buddy over at the Mod Mobilian didn’t exactly take the high road. While his commentary is basically a summary of his many comments to Sarah’s post, his commenters merely demonstrated why many other regions of the country harbor a particular bias against the south.  Feel free to mosey on over there if you’re in the mood for a good laugh (and a good head-scratching).

~April

Wait, The Civil War Didn’t End?

July 20, 2010 at 9:16 am | Posted in Around Boston | 17 Comments
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Sarah and I started this blog about a year ago because Boston is a weird place that provided us with daily laughs.  We thought there might be a handful of people who also found our stories humorous.  We also both needed a creative outlet to counteract the more formal writing required of our careers. 

I’ve found this whole web blogging experience to be enjoyable, especially when like-minded fans of the Interwebs add their own commentary to our observations.  I’ve learned a lot from my dear reader(s), like that there are people out there who hate the word “panties” and that a mysterious golden retriever statue in Connecticut may actually be hiding Sanjay, which is good to know because I was wondering what happened to him.

I also learned that not everyone grasps the concept of humor.   I received a call  from my bloggier half last night during which time it quickly became apparent that she was in a state that can only be described as a tizzy (unless I were to use adult language on this blog, in which case I’d describe her emotional state as something much more colorful).  Sarah was quite upset because some alleged doctor had taken her to task not once but three times for what he perceived to be a slam against the virtues of the Southern lady.  He even went so far as to call her “a superficial, conceited bitch.”  My dear friend was quite upset about that last bit, being that I  am the one typically being called a bitch.  

As I read through the comments this morning, I learned something else.  Some Southerners seem to have a chip on their shoulders when it comes to Northerners’ perceptions.  So what if some Bostonian you don’t know thought the Azalea Trail Maids are funny?  Man up, Buttercup.   They are  funny.  Just like it is hysterical that grown men and women hang around the Freedom Trail dressed like colonists.  Some Southern female I don’t know, and frankly don’t care to know, thinks Bostonians have a crass sense of humor.  I happen to think there are some very funny people in the Hub.  Let’s just agree to disagree.  You see, that’s what makes America such a wondrous country.  We are free to disagree.  Unless you’re a Communist.  Then you better shut the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks up.

~April

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

Photo Phriday: Pass the Bimbo!

June 11, 2010 at 10:42 am | Posted in Photo Phriday | 4 Comments
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I’m not usually one to succumb to middle-school-boy-laughter, but sometimes immaturity gets the best of me… Take the ad below, for example:  

Mmmmm... Bimbo...?!

 

Yes, someone actually named their company Bimbo (snicker snicker). 

And lest you feel badly that said someone just doesn’t know any better, I’d like to draw your attention to the lower right hand corner pronunciation guide as evidence that he understands this is not an appropriate name. 

Pass the Bimbo, Please! 

~Sarah

Beware of Partners Who Won’t Share Their Acorns?

June 3, 2010 at 8:02 am | Posted in Around Boston | 4 Comments
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As I waited for the train yesterday, I stood next to a well-dressed couple in the process of breaking up. It was uncomfortable, but the train platform was really crowded, and I thought it would be rude to move away. Manners always get in the way of things… But at least my discomfort yielded a blog topic!

Anyway, as you can imagine, some pretty heavy vocabulary was being tossed around like live grenades… We had the “Who the f**k do you think you are, accusing me like that?” followed soon thereafter by the “I trusted you!” comeback. The “I can’t take your suspicions anymore” rebuked by the treacherous: “Well, if you weren’t always so ‘secret squirrel’ about everything…”

Wait. What? Did he (yes, I did say HE) just accuse his soon-to-be-former lady friend of being too “secret squirrel” about her doings?

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that, if you want to be taken seriously in a confrontation (or anytime, really), avoid phrases like “secret squirrel” or “tricksy toad” or “maniacal monkey,” or any other alliterative animal comparisons.

~Sarah (the Blogging Badger?)

Reader’s Mailbag: Rude Mistake or Inside Joke?

April 28, 2010 at 8:37 am | Posted in Misc. | 2 Comments
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From: Bewildered Blog Reader
To: Sarah Wilderrol
Subject: Arpil? Seriously?
 
Dear Sarah,
 
I’ve noticed that you occasionally misspell your “bloggier half’s” name by transposing the “r” and the “p.” If you’re doing it by accident, that’s kind of rude, don’t you think? If you’re doing it on purpose, can you please let us in on the joke? This is getting out of hand.
 
~Bewildered
 

Dear Bewildered, 

Trust me when I tell you that if I misspelled my bloggier half’s name for any reason other than a goof, I probably wouldn’t be here to talk about it. So yes, transposing those letters is, in fact, a joke – and one we are happy to share with the class. 

A-R-P-I-L. Arpil.

 

You see, we once received an email (from someone who shall remain nameless) addressing “Sarah and Arpil.” An innocent mistake? Hardly. This gal is no angel, and she did it from a terminal we know is set to auto-check spelling before sending. Clearly the Microsoft gods would have corrected that error – if not because it is a proper name, because it is also the name of a month. And a very important month, at that! So this cough cough charming cough cough gal actually had to go through the trouble of ignoring the auto-correction suggestion. She had to make an effort to screw it up! 

Why do we continue using this silly misspelling? Duh! Who doesn’t like a nickname inadvertently created by a less-than-generous acquaintance you had no choice but to put up with? 

Thanks for your judgmental (Tom Cruise, was that you speaking out of turn again?) inquiry.  

Best, 

Sarah 

And while we are on the subject, dear reader(s), Bewildered’s question is a good reminder to us all. We will try to explain our nonsensical references proactively, but should we forget, you can always feel free to hassle us for clarity. That’s right, we hereby grant you permission to hassle these hoffs… Or something… 

You get the idea…

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