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Dear Volkswagen:

I don’t love you any more. I want a divorce.

We used to be so great together. It was love at first sight between you (in the form of my Eos) and me. Then a year ago, our relationship soured. My Eos started making me look bad, then tried to kill me. Over and over again.

Let me explain:

In September of last year, the door upholstery on the passenger side inexplicably came unglued. I took it to my local dealer, Vaden Volkswagen, expecting it to be fixed immediately. My service consultant said he had seen it before but that you won’t repair it. Really? Um. OK.

I took it to a body shop he recommended. The fellow there said that he could glue it back for $90 but that it would just come unglued again. He could also replace the door for $700.

I gulped. Hard.

Then I colored in the fiberglass underneath with Sharpie so it wasn’t as noticeable (see Exhibit A) and pretended it hadn’t happened.

Exhibit A

Exhibit A

In May, the upholstery on the driver side came unglued (see Exhibit B).

Exhibit B

Exhibit B

Let me interrupt myself to point out that I take care of my car. I keep the car in the garage at home and I park in a parking garage at work.

When I showed this new development to my service consultant, he said, “Well, you do have more than 100,000 miles on your car.” Yes, that may be. However, I’m not driving on the top of the doors.

I spoke to two of your “customer care” representatives. They told me, basically, “Tough luck.”

So I’ve posted a public notice (Exhibit C).

Exhibit C

Exhibit C

Then the car started trying to kill me. I would be driving down the road and suddenly pressing the gas pedal would not accelerate the car. The car would hop a few times and coast. No gas. Then, just as suddenly, the gas pedal would work again.

I took it in for the first of many, many attempts to diagnose the problem. I even had the fuel pump replaced. See Exhibit D for proof (ignore your consultant’s inability to spell):

Exhibit D

Exhibit D

Even though this situation happens to me EVERY SINGLE TIME I drive the car, your technicians can’t duplicate the problem or figure out what’s wrong. I even took video of it happening not once but twice.

It’s apparently a real headscratcher. To you.

This puzzle is going to get me killed. Imagine my dismay when this happens on I-16 as I drive my two kids to school.

So my Eos — the car I loved completely and paid off happily — is unsightly and unsafe.

And you can’t and won’t do anything about it.

That’s why I want a divorce.

In the meantime, I’m telling everyone I know about my problems with you. Remember this quote by Douglas Adams in “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”:

Nothing travels faster than the speed of light with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.

Here’s to getting justice in my own special way. I hope I see justice before I see a bright light …

Living in fear,
Beth

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Dear Vacation:

I’m going to miss you. We had such a great time together last week. How will I live without you?

I can’t wait to see you again. Next time, though, I need some rules for my behavior.

I must not:

  • Think about work
  • Worry about work
  • Bring my computer to do work
  • Actually work

I also must not:

  • Stay at the beach then bemoan sand everywhere. (Everywhere!)
  • Try to keep the boys from climbing every rock formation and tree.
  • Go for a walk on the beach in regular clothes and expect not to get attacked by a wave.
  • Bring a curling iron to do my hair. (Really, now, what was I thinking?)
  • Eat my body weight in tostones every day.

Hope to see you soon!

Love,
Beth

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Dear Revelers in Room 479:

I’m so glad you are having what appears to be a rip-roaring time. I wanted to invite the front desk person to your party, but (lucky for you, I guess) he/she did not answer the phone.

Here’s a tip for your next party: Don’t have it in your hotel room at 4 a.m. Parties like that tend to raise the ire of people in other rooms — say one across the hall and down four doors down.

It was kind of a shock to be startled out of a sound sleep by slamming doors and hollering by grown men and women. It took me back to my college years in Traer Hall.

Thank you for giving me that extra time to get in a few more levels of Candy Crush before my early flight. I think I’ll leave you a thank you note when I head out of the hotel.

With malice in my heart,
Beth

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Dear Colonel Al-Kurdi Malik:

Thank you for your recent email. You are clearly a busy man — what with leading the Free Syria Army and all — so I feel honored that you chose me as a correspondent along with other “undisclosed recipients.”

During this personal discussion, could you explain how the Free Syria Army (FSA) is different from the Free Syrian Army (FSA)? I’ve heard of the latter and am familiar with it as the Western-backed rebel group fighting Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. Is the Free Syria Army a group of discount hunters or part of the Freegan movement?

According to various news reports, Brigadier General Abdul-llah al-Bashir is the leader of the Free Syrian Army. There’s a Colonel Malik al-Kurdi who is the deputy commander of the FSA. Is that you?

If so, congratulations on the promotion to “leader.” What happened to that al-Bashir guy? He only lasted a week!

With all due respect as I know English is not your first language, maybe you should proofread your emails. I’m sure you didn’t really want to send me a “massage.” (Although, I do feel fairly tense right now.)

In addition, here’s another bit of advice: If you want to protect your identity as you indicate, maybe you shouldn’t grant interviews to various media outlets.

Anyway, thanks for writing. I can’t wait to be your pen pal!
Beth

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Dear AWP Program Directors:

I’m mystified by something that happened this morning. Please help me make sense of it.

One of you complained that prospective students often ask her this:

What job am I going to get?

The overwhelming majority of the rest of you laughed as if to say this:

Oh, how silly! Why would someone ask something so crazy?

She went on to lament “consumer culture.”

Wait just a hot second. Are students not consumers of a product, albeit an intangible one? In return for their money, time and effort, they earn a degree and, one hopes, a job.

Why is this bad?

I talked to the woman who made the comment. She said she got her M.F.A. because she is an artist. I said:

But don’t you want to get paid for your artwork?

Then I found out she is a poet. Oh. And she represents a poetry degree program. OH!

That explains her situation, but what about the rest of you? I appreciate art for art’s sake, but it is better when you can make a living doing what you like best. No?

This seems to me to be another example of AWP acting like an ostrich.

Weren’t you just talking about the rising cost of college and increasing student debt load? Don’t you want to help students get a job so that they can pay off the college education that helped them get a job?

I’m confused. Please help me understand.

Sincerely,
Beth

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To Sir With Love

Dear Men:

I’ve been traveling more than usual lately, and I’ve had occasion to observe you without you knowing you are being observed. (No, we’re not talking about stalking; it’s called “people watching,” for Pete’s sake!)

I want to save you from yourselves. Here is a short list of things you like and that you seem to think women like. I promise that we don’t. (Yes, I know I’m generalizing. Stay with me here.)

Women don’t like:
1. Soul patches.
2. Clinging to the hair you think you have. (When in doubt, be boldly bald.)
3. Pants with pockets on your hips (i.e. Wrangler jeans). Are these supposed to make you look trim? They don’t.
4. Talking to women on planes when they clearly are involved in a rousing game of Candy Crush Saga.
5. Air guitar solos.
6. Pants that belt below the curve of your butt. Stop. It.
7. Accidental-on-purpose-I’m-just-scooting-past-you penis grazes.
8. Loud cell phone conversations where you dog a coworker for “responding poorly to the situation.” (We don’t think you are important. You just seem like a jerk.)
9. Waiting for the restroom on the plane with your crotch in their faces. Please turn away.
10. That awful frat boy hair. You know, this:

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Here are some general things women DO like:
1. To be left alone on planes, in restaurants, at bars when they are by themselves playing Candy Crush Saga.
2. Quiet time on the airplane. (See No. 1.)
3. Personal space.
4. Not to be called “little lady.”
5. Wine.
6. The good chocolate. (Richart, for example. None of that Whitman’s crap.)
7. You, if you are interesting and have a good sense of humor.
8. But only if the woman appears to want to engage in conversation to find that out.
9. Seeing you clean the house, empty the dishwasher, and take out the trash (if the relationship progresses, of course).
10. Not being approached from behind when they are emptying the dishwasher.

I’m just trying to help you. Let me know if you need more advice.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Hey Kids!

Auntie Beth has some cool tips for you to help you get through those nasty flight cancellations. Check ’em out!

1. When the agent at the so-called “elite” number can’t get you home until Sunday when you were supposed to be home Wednesday, say, “Sure, that’s fine!” to whatever she books. Then go talk to the gate agent.

2. Be nice to the gate agent. Joke that you are going to get all loud and obnoxious  if they can’t get you home sooner. Of course, you are just joking!

3. When that gate agent finds you a flight Saturday, say, “Thanks,” then tease that maybe the other agent can do a better job. Ha ha! Oh, we’re all friends here.

4. What the what?!? The other gate agent CAN do better and gets you on a flight Thursday. Yay! Thank that person (named Sean) profusely.

5. Remember to be nice: Gate agents named Sean can give you cool stuff like meal vouchers that restaurants may or may not use, taxi vouchers to Boston from Manchester, N.H., and travel vouchers to someplace wonderful during spring when there are no snow/ice delays.

6. Make sure to get a taxi driver who complains, “I don’t want to drive to Boston.” It’s better when he repeats that phrase every 10 minutes for an hour.

7. Share the cab with a similarly displaced traveler. You’ll make new friends while making sure the cabbie is less likely to dump you on the side of the road.

8. Use your meal vouchers for wine. Dull that pain of not being home with your long-suffering husband and kids.

9. Take some wine to go. You’ll need it in your hotel room when you only have Matt Lauer and Candy Crush to keep you company.

10. Wash your underwear in the sink. Come on, it will be fun! Channel the spirit of your inner pioneer woman.

Tune in next time when Auntie Beth gives you tips on surviving Logan airport during THE BIGGEST STORM OF THE CENTURY.

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Dear 2014,

Well, 2013 came in sucky and left the same way (flu, among other issues). While there were a few positive moments, the year was a tough one.

But 2014, I like the looks of you already. In your honor, I’ve made some resolutions.

I resolve to:

  1. Buy this. (Note: We tried a muffin tin. It didn’t work.)
  2. Watch “Breaking Bad.” (Finally.)
  3. Vacation in Amsterdam on a houseboat or cruise the Rhine with our best friends.
  4. Write more blog posts about the strange things that fascinate me*.

    That sounds about right.

    That sounds about right.

  5. Refuse to feel guilty for simply being happy to keep my children alive day to day.
  6. Care less about the constant snubs from members of Eddie’s family (his birthday, my birthday, boys’ birthdays, other important life events).
  7. Focus more on mutually satisfying relationships with friends (give and take, as opposed to us constantly giving).
  8. Devote more time to eating bread and cheese and other things that are not so good for me.
  9. Watch this regularly for a good laugh.
  10. Avoid making any more resolutions.

Welcome, 2014! Let’s treat each other well. OK?

Love,
Beth

* The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

 

 

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Cease and desist

Dear Life:

Please stop torturing me with the following:

1. Gray hair. Specifically mine. I remain 27. I’m surprised you don’t know that.

2. People who pronounce mojitos as “moh-gee-toes.” Don’t let them drink anything ever again.

3. High school girls wearing the uniform of black leggings under riding boots. Girls: Show some freakin’ originality!

4. Selfies. Just stop.

5. Shoe liners that slip off your heels. These are worse than a plague of locusts. (But not worse than a herd of No. 3.)

6. Restaurants that act like it is a big deal to squeeze you in for a reservation, but when you arrive, there are only two other people there. Get over yourself!

7. Bald men who pretend they are not, in fact, bald. Shave it, for crying out loud!

8. People who blame everyone else for problems they have because of their own decisions. Own it! If you make a choice and it is the wrong one, own that too.

9. Anger. Anyone’s except mine, of course.

10. Thin women who say they never exercise or diet. Shut it.

Thank you for ceasing all of the above, Life. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Love ya!
Beth

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Brain Drain? Yes.

Dear Brain:

Listen, you’ve got to stop. This middle-of-the-night cry for attention is getting old.

What’s that? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Let me remind you:

  1. I don’t want to think about my ever-expanding to-do list at 2 a.m.
  2. I won’t tell off that person I can’t stand. You and I both know it, so quit thinking of clever things for me to say.
  3. Stop interrupting my dreams of Johnny Depp to remind me that I need to pay for my children’s after-school care. That’s just wrong.
  4. I ate plenty of food at dinner. You and my stomach don’t need to invent hunger.
  5. Just decide whether I’m hot or cold and stick with it.
  6. I don’t need you to overwhelm me with guilt about abandoning this blog for so long. We both know why, so leave it alone.
  7. Yes, I set my phone alarm.
  8. Yes, I locked the front door. Shut up! I don’t even use the front door.
  9. No, you don’t hear a kid crying.
  10. No, that’s not an odd scratching sound outside.

Please, I’m begging you: Go to sleep and stay there!

Thanks,
Beth

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