Carole Radziwill

Carole discusses her previous time spent in St. Barths, pirates, and Ramona's time as Queen Elizabeth.

on Aug 27, 2012

Day Two, Tuesday. . .
I wander up to the main house for coffee and blueberries and Bam Wow #*@! I get ambushed by the girls. They can’t last the week without their men, now, because of my boyfriend. Seriously? It’s going to be hard to get through the week? Am I the only one who doesn’t need a man by me 24/7? Am I the only one who doesn’t need the constant drumbeat of testosterone poking me in the back?

Am I a genetically modified female? Oh wait, Heather’s okay without her husband. Phew.

Girl’s Trip. Oh no. Those two dreaded words, “girl” and “trip.” I told you I would regret saying them at the M&M lunch. I didn’t even mean it, it slipped. Yes, call Jacques! Call Mario! Call the boys! If it will save me from two days of the most uncomfortable moments in the history of “girls” or “trips,” by God get all the men on some planes. Millsaps, round them up, STAT!

So here is my moment to lay down. I’ve been waiting for it all year. RAMADRAMA! The girls are going to fight with me about Russ. Were they talking behind my back about Russ spending the night? Are they upset I didn’t invite them to my party of two? Ramona got on my case, and I told her to shut up.

Then I braced myself, closed my eyes, held onto something steady and took a breath. Ramonacoaster, here it comes. Wait, what? Nothing? Who would have guessed the way to shut up Ramona is to tell her to shut up. #Letdown.