Dr. Meg, lifecoach

The lifecoaching you deserve

Today’s on-air advice, Part II

Q. Last night, I received a cryptic email from a friend who claimed to be about to kill himself. It sort of looked like his will, and he sent it out to a whole host of his friends, judging from the email list. He then went on to list some possible plans for doing away with himself: sleeping outside that night when there was supposed to be a hard freeze, jumping off a dam, and a few others. I wasn’t really sure whether he was going to do any of them, but made some effort to get a hold of him to try to find out what was going on. As it turned out, he had been rejected by a girl he had been sort of following around for the last couple of years. He was convinced they were seeing each other romantically, but that wasn’t her perception. So it seems to me that he is coping with the loss of this “relationship” rather badly. My better nature wonders if there is something I should be doing for him as a friend, but I think my stronger reaction to his behavior is that it was unacceptable for him to do that to me, to us, as his friends, and that I should have a different kind of conversation with him entirely. What do you think?

A. Well, the first thing to do in this kind of situation is get your friend to distinguish in his own psyche between sadness, what we might call clinical depression, and actually wanting to die. People who actually want to die typically tend to try to take action rather than sitting at home sending emails and trying to get sympathy, so you’re probably looking at one of the former: sadness or clinical depression. If he’s clinically depressed, he probably needs professional help (preferably the kind with a prescription pad), or at least a lot more exercise and a lot less processed food. If he’s just sad, consider explaining to him that you can be there for him without all the drama.
You see, in our society, men are usually not encouraged to pick up the phone and say to their friends, “I feel sad. Can we talk?” Instead, they have to do ill-advised things like get drunk, get in badly mismatched fights, and wreck their cars. When they can’t fulfill these social needs (for example, if they live in remote areas, and don’t have enough liquor, or suitable fighting partners, or cars whose crashing could constitute a serious loss), they can sometimes be transformed, ironically into drama queens. It’s true: Yeah, I read about a study on it on an airplane.

Today’s on-air advice Part I

Q. I have been playing an online video game a lot. Although I have advanced beyond this one particular level, I keep lingering there because there is this girl there. She is just so beautiful. I know she isn’t real—she’s basically just a really good cartoon—but I think I am in love with her. What’s worse, my real-life wife is getting suspicious. I don’t know what to do. Do these characters have models? Should I try to find this character’s model? What should I tell my wife? I can’t think about anything else but this virtual girl.

A. Wow. I could tell you a bunch of things about CGI composites, and the difference between those and actual women, and this girl is just someone else’s fantasy and you shouldn’t let it be yours, and how the mere fact that you’re calling your wife your “real-life wife” is really disturbing. However, the bottom line is that you need to unplug your computer and go outside. If that doesn’t help or it makes you miss the cartoon girl, get some therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

Q. My husband seems to be online constantly. He says he’s just playing this one game all the time, but I’m suspicious. How can I find out if my husband having an online affair? More importantly, how can I find her if she is?

A. She’s probably just a cartoon. Don’t worry about it, and stop being so vindictive and stalky. The good news is that the two of you are well suited for each other in your creepiness. How about a trip out of town together to reconnect?

Q. Dear Doctor Meg, I understand you’ve been married and had lots of long-term relationships. I am in my thirties, I had always planned to get married and I really want to do it now, but it doesn’t seem to be happening. How can I find someone and get married as soon as possible, so I can get on with the living happily ever after part?

A. My, what a revealing question. Did it occur to you that someone who has “been married and had lots of long-term relationships” has not, in fact, lived happily ever after—at least, not yet? These things are journeys rather than destinations, after all. Living happily ever after is not an endpoint—it’s something you have to work on every damn day. Furthermore, the maximum number of relationships one can have that “work out” is a mere one—and not only that, but one of the major criteria is that it’s the one you’re in when you DIE.
It also bears stating that, if you are the sort of person who has had her whole wedding planned out since she was twelve, not only are you setting yourself up for disappointment (and the embarrassment of a pink unicorn theme to your wedding), but you may very well miss out on the “right” person or situation just because they don’t exactly meet those adolescent expectations—or worse, you could have already.
I would advise you to stop trying to get married right away. When I was in my twenties and I would hear those statistics like, “It’s more likely for a woman over a certain age to get struck by lightning than it would be for her to get married,” I would think it was very sad that these women in their thirties and older wouldn’t be able to find husbands (and of course, might also get electrocuted by atmospheric disturbances). Now that I am over that certain age, I realize what a benighted imbecile I was for thinking that, and I hope you are not still one. I don’t feel sorry for those women at all. It’s not that they are all sad and manless and alone, it’s that they are comfortable with themselves and would need to be convinced that a given prospective husband would be worth the hassle and upheaval. Marriage is a ton of work—even that bad ones—and let’s face it, men are pretty gross—even the nice ones.
You should please yourself. Do things you like to do. Enjoy stuff. If you find someone who likes to do those things, pleases you too, enjoys stuff to the extent you do, and is committed to making Happily Ever After work every damn day after every damn day, then maybe consider beginning to think about making that partnership a legally state-sanctioned one. Or just become an event planner if you love weddings so damn much, find a guy who’s into pink unicorns, and be his legally-sanctioned beard.

Today’s on-air advice, Part II

Q. There is no nice way to say this. My new boyfriend has terrible taste in music. Everything he listens to seems to be either an 80s hair band or a “Where are They Now?”-style revival of 80s hair bands coming out with more CDs, or imitators—sorry, tribute bands—of 80s hair bands. People stopped listening to that stuff for a reason, you know? Actually, for lots of reasons, as far as I can tell. The worst part is that we’ll go back to his place and he’ll put on some of this terrible music, expecting to “get lucky.” I tried to just tune it out at first, because I really do care about him and I enjoy our time together, but every once in a while, he’ll actually stop what he’s doing for an air guitar solo. Going to my place instead doesn’t help—he’ll just bring a “special mix CD” of the terrible music and insist on playing it in all its obnoxious glory, as if it’s supposed to turn me on. I just can’t deal with it anymore. I don’t expect to change his taste in music, and he really is sweet to me. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. How do I tell my boyfriend that his musical selections kill the mood?

A. This could be a symptom of a much larger problem. The inability to comprehend that bad music is bad is often linked to other issues, such as perpetually living in one’s parents’ basement, fruitless employment, not winning the lottery as expected, week after week, and general spinning of one’s wheels. It suggests a certain detachment from reality—specifically an inability to calculate cause-and-effect responses in the rest of the population. He may not be ready to seek help on his own, but you can help him in small ways by explaining your responses. Remember to use “I”-based language. For example, you don’t want to say something like, “Your music sucks and your life is headed downhill fast,” rather, you want to say something like, “When you play that particular album again, I feel depressed and annoyed, and that makes it difficult for me to perform.”
If that doesn’t work, consider giving him the valuable gift of empathy. Get the worst music you can find, and insist on listening to that. See how that makes him feel, and by extension, how you must feel when he does that to you. If you’re unsure as to what sort of music may bother him, may I recommend Welsh Penillion? That bothers almost everyone.
If that doesn’t work, recall that men are slaves to their libidos. You are likely to win an either-or contest between an act of intimacy and listening to a Poison CD.

Q. What in the world is Penillion?

A. Penillion is a traditional form of Welsh screeching. Technically, it’s supposed to be singing. I recommend approaching it with a culturally open mind or in a spirit of vengeance, like the food. Above all, please do not judge the Welsh culture, which has brought us many good things—beyond just King Arthur and Catherine Zeta-Jones—on Penillion and leek tarts alone.

Q. Like you, I am a professional lifecoach. I have a professional ethics question for you. With medical doctors and clinical psychologists, for example, there is an explicit code of ethics. For lifecoaches and other such professionals, however, there are guidelines, but rarely explicit codes or procedures. So I would like to ask you this: Do you ever date clients? When is it OK to do that in our profession?

A. I personally do not. I dated a former client once (first satisfying myself that all the ethical angles were covered), and I have to say that, after the initial predatory thrill, it was just too weird. Think about it a minute. Do you really want to take your work home with you like that? Just how much do you want to work for free? Isn’t it easy enough to get taken advantage of in our line of work, where people just expect you to help them without remuneration all the time? And anyway, don’t you find our clients to be, well, just a bit too needy and damaged to be good relationship material? There may not be explicit ethical prohibitions on dating clients, but why on earth would you? Good luck with that.

Today’s on-air advice, Part I

Q. When we first started dating seriously, my vegetarian girlfriend tried very hard to get me to give up meat, and was pretty convincing about it. I went a few weeks not eating meat, but I missed it too much, and I caved. I mean, what is the point of supposedly being healthier and living longer and all if you can’t eat the things you enjoy during that longer life? Do I really want another five meatless years on the end of my miserable, meatless life? I went back to eating meat, just not around her, and I didn’t know how to tell her. I think she assumes I am still vegetarian all the time, even though I haven’t been for about six months now. I’m not all that comfortable with the deception (even if it’s not an outright lie), but I’m a lot more comfortable with it than I am with eating nothing but rabbit food all the time.
Other than that one secret that I still feel a little guilty about, things between us have been going just great. When I found out I would be losing my lease because my apartment building and my landlord are being foreclosed on, my girlfriend asked me to move in with her. I was so overwhelmed by her kindness and what this would mean for us that I immediately said yes… without thinking about how I would handle that problem of my eating meat and not telling her about it. With her generosity, I now feel even worse. What can I do here, other than give up meat for real?

A. The way I see it, if you are not willing to “give up meat for real,” you have three choices: 1., Confess and hope for the best; 2., Continue to practice this deception, which is about to get a lot harder; or 3., Break it off suddenly, disappear, and try to start your life over elsewhere (see tips on doing this from past shows at http://doctormeglifecoach.wordpress.com/). All of these of course have their drawbacks, and all are stressful. The easiest thing to do might be to confess and come up with some medical reason why you can’t give up meat entirely. If you can produce both a doctor’s note and jewelry, you’ll save yourself the hassle of the second two options.

Q. I live in a remote area in a quiet place. I really like it there, but my commute is pretty long, and the closer I get to the city, the worse the traffic gets, and more noticeably, the worse the drivers get. It’s like they’re always trying to get the better of everyone else. They have this “me first” attitude that seems to come before basic safety, and I don’t appreciate it. I would rather be able to trust that other drivers are being reasonable and that we’re all conspiring not to get in accidents together. I can laugh off a few annoying or unpleasant incidents in the course of a day, but when I’m driving so many miles every day, there are so many more opportunities to encounter people driving like idiots, and it all gets to me after a while. How do I keep other drivers from bothering me so much?

A. I would like to applaud your not being a victim about this and asking the right question. The question is not, “How can I make other people be nice to me?” and that’s refreshing. We can each only be responsible for ourselves, after all—you can’t make random strangers in cars be responsible for your happiness or comfort on the road. All you can do is choose to modify your own responses.

Q. Not long ago, I converted to Buddhism. The principles had always appealed to me, and then when I began living in a house with a number of other people, most of whom were practicing Buddhists, it seemed like the right time to make the shift. Overall, I am very pleased with the Buddhist lifestyle (well, as much as Dukkha will allow, lol). However, living with several other Buddhists, some of whom are not as tidy as I am, is proving somewhat difficult. For example, we have a few different kinds of bugs now living in our kitchen (and spreading to other places in the house) because of food left out or poorly stored. It’s disgusting, the communal food supply is compromised, and those responsible will not alter their habits or assist in removing the insects. They claim that killing the bugs would be against our religion. Which is probably true, but the one person in the house who is not Buddhist is rarely home, and I feel badly asking him, while he is home, to kill a bunch of bugs whose residence he had nothing to do with in the first place. I like the overall living situation, but this one problem is getting bigger and more alarming by the day. What can I do?

A. Move out, of course. It sounds like even living in a tent would be more sanitary. Then you can hang out with nature all you want and practice your faith without any contradictions or obstacles of any kind, like you should if you really believed in what you were doing.

Today’s on-air advice, Part II

Q. This one is a sign of the times: it was sent in real time from a handheld device. I guess that makes it our first text-based emergency question.
One of my good friends spent the evening at my house a few weeks ago. She complimented on my favorite blouse, which I was wearing then, and then “accidentally” spilled her drink on it. She apologized profusely and offered to have it cleaned for me. The next day, she took it with her and said she dropped it off at the cleaner’s near her office. We didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks, but then yesterday I ran into her in the supermarket, and she seemed to have forgotten about the blouse and said there was no cleaner’s near her office. Acting like she was humoring me for the sake of our friendship, she said she would check with her cleaner’s and see if she somehow dropped it off there or something. This morning she told me she had called them and they didn’t have anything of hers (or anything she had dropped off) there. Sorry. I was kind of wondering what to think about it and wasn’t sure.
So right now, we are at a baby shower for a mutual friend, and she is WEARING my blouse! I can’t believe it! What do I do?

A. I think the first thing you need to ask yourself is why your friend didn’t seem to feel comfortable just asking you if she could borrow your blouse. Do you tend to share your things with others, for example, or do you project an aura of punitive unwillingness to share? Maybe she thought you would not just refuse to lend you the blouse if she asked, but that you would get very angry with her as well.
The next thing you need to ask yourself is whether people are really more important than possessions, particularly if those people you considered friends are so deceptive—and if you have fancy enough consumer electronics to email radio lifecoaches in clandestine fashion from baby showers.
The final thing you need to ask yourself is whether anyone else there has a top to lend her. Clearly, you can’t let her leave with yours. You might never see it again.

Q. When my husband of 14 years and I broke up rather amicably some months ago, he told me he thought I would make a great cougar. I think he meant it as a compliment, but I really don’t think I am old enough to be a cougar. Is there some sort of age guideline?

A. Oh, honestly. How should I know? I–
Um, yes. Well. I believe the most common, agreed-upon guideline is that a cougar must be over 50, although I have also heard that she need be at least 10 – 12 years older than her quarry.

Q. “Cory” from Broomfield writes: I know you don’t like relationship questions, but this is really an etiquette question, which I know you do like. Bear with me.
I have recently started seeing an older woman. She is not quite old enough to be my mother, but she is very sophisticated and fun and I enjoy her company very much as well as, well, her other fine attributes [the listener inserts a winking smiley face here]. She is also very generous and sometimes takes me to dinner or buys me small gifts, which makes me feel very special.
Here’s the difficulty. I am currently working only part time. I live about 45 minutes away from her, and if I see her a few times a week, my traveling to see her eats up a significant amount of my meager paycheck buying gas. However, she expects me to come see her whenever she invites me, which I would certainly be willing to do if I could better afford it.
So this is the question: What is the polite way to resolve this conflict? Do I ask her to come to me or meet me partway instead of always going to see her (even though she really doesn’t like to drive)? Do I tell her I can’t see her as often? If so, do I tell her why? Do I ask her for gas money? It seems like any one of these options is both rude and could result in her calling it off.

A. What an interesting question, Ja—I mean—“Cory,” and very cleverly broached. I’m sure that if this sophisticated, attractive older woman genuinely enjoys your company, something could be worked out—particularly if you would be willing to be flexible about certain things. I’m sure you know which ones. Why don’t you meet her to figure things out around 8:00 at that place you went to on the 4th of July? That should be plenty close enough.

Today’s on-air advice Part I

Q. Although I consider myself an enlightened sort constantly on a journey of self-discovery, I find I sometimes just lash out at strangers. Sometimes they’re not doing anything particularly offensive or anything, they just irritate me, and before I know it, I’m shouting at someone I’ve never met before in a very awkward social setting, and making it even moreso. Even if I think I’m in the right, it seems like it embarrasses other people. Still, I can’t seem to stop. What is going on with me?

A. Difficult to say with this relatively small amount of information. You might be suffering from some sort of disorder that makes social interaction irritating for you. There are a few out there. You may also just be a jerk.
To find out which, you may want to start with asking your friends what they have observed and if they think you have a problem. You may also want to consult a professional who can meet with you regularly in the event that you do have some sort of treatable disorder.
Or you could just embrace what may very well just be your nature. Determine whether shouting at people in the checkout line or cutting people off in traffic really makes you feel more comfortable, more like yourself. If it does, or if you can’t find a friend whose opinion you may be able to ask, then you’re probably just a jerk, and being true to yourself is important. We all spend so much time figuring out who we are, you know? As someone who considers himself fairly enlightened, you already know that. Congratulations—your journey of self-discovery may very well be drawing to a close. I think we all envy you.

Q. Like a lot of people, I recently lost my job because the company I was working for went under. I have been looking for work every business day ever since, but I haven’t had much luck in my area. In the meantime, my mother is rather ill and my family is asking me to move back home to a small town in Texas. I ran away from there—I really did—and I have a life very far away now that I like very much. However, I may not have too much time left with my mother and I am having a very hard time making ends meet without a job in the city where I’ve been living for the last 15 years. If I moved back home for a while, although I’d have free rent and get to spend time with my family, I am afraid that town I ran away from would suck me back in with its evil gravity and that I would never get out again. What do I do?

A. You know, the first time I read this question, I thought, “Am I missing something here? Is there some reason why spending time with one’s dying mother and living somewhere familiar rent-free isn’t appealing?” Then I read it again more carefully, and I realized we were talking about Texas. I think what you have to ask yourself is how long you can hold out with your current financial situation and whether that’s long enough to get another job before you get evicted. You might consider your family’s offer as a fallback plan. That is, you could keep doing what you’re doing, redouble your efforts at finding a job, and then if you do get evicted before you find something, perhaps that would be the time to go to Texas, which is, after all, at least a bit better than living under an aqueduct.

Q. My fiancée seems to have some sort of major family secret she’s not sharing with me. Whenever she spends time with her family, they seem to be sharing this secret and working hard to keep it from me. I think it has to do with someone named Gerald and something they might consider shameful, like severe mental illness, a criminal history, or a bad drug problem or something. I don’t want to pry… well, that’s not true—I do want to pry—but I haven’t had any success finding out what’s going on. My fiancée just won’t tell me, and it’s not like she cries or something when I ask—she gets sort of smug and seems very bemused. If I’m going to marry into this family, don’t you think I should know what everyone is talking about? What if there is some kind of serious genetic problem I could be perpetuating if we have kids? What if I’ll be sort of a target as the new guy? What if the family is just toying with me? I’m not sure I want to marry into a family that thinks this kind of thing is funny. I’m on the verge of calling off the engagement unless she tells me what is going on. Is that the right thing to do, though?

A. Good relationships are about communication and honesty. Bad ones can be about many different things, but good ones really have to contain those components to work. If your fiancée is denying you those very basic elements, nothing else is going to make your impending marriage work long term. It sounds like you’ve determined that it’s important enough that it bothers you to the point where it’s a dealbreaker. So if she won’t share this irritating secret with you, then you have two options: First, leave. Second, go through with it and commit to a very short, bad marriage. If the money or conversation or sex or cuisine or real estate are good enough, perhaps that would be worthwhile. I can’t determine that for you. Only you can say for sure. Meditate on it and discover the universe’s answer for you.

Today’s on-air advice, Part II

Q. Recently, a friend of mine did something very brave: she left her abusive boyfriend and moved out. I think, like many women in her situation, she thought her friends would judge her, or that she would be entirely alone in the world once she left that jerk. She’s not, though. Some of us helped her move, some of us helped her get a restraining order, some of us have been driving her places as needed, some of us have been offering her our various couches or making her some supper, or some combination of those things. We’re all happy to do it.
One of the things I did to try to help was that, a couple of weeks ago, I offered to dog-sit for a day. My friend was staying with me and my housemates for two nights in a row, and wanted to leave her dog at the house during the day in between, which made perfect sense to me. I was going to be the only one home, and I thought it would be fine. There are even two other dogs, who would occasionally need feeding or letting out. What could be the harm?
Well, as it turned out, plenty. The dog is old enough to drive, and apparently very arthritic. He doesn’t move around so well, and whines loudly whenever my friend leaves him alone. I tried to put him outside, but I was afraid the neighbors would call the police or animal control because of the horrible noise, and I also couldn’t seem to keep the dog out of the sun and hydrated. I was terrified he was just going to keel over on me, and while I would be temporarily relieved by the peace and quiet that would finally ensue, I didn’t want to put my friend through that—she was going through enough and needed my support—as well as her pet’s.
I tried everything I could to take care of the dog and keep him quiet. I fed him treats in the hopes that he couldn’t eat and yowl at the same time. He couldn’t, but he could do them in quick alternating succession. I tried getting him his favorite blanket and petting him. I tried talking to him. I tried everything I could think of. It was horrible. I got almost nothing done all day long, and it was the most stressful day I’ve had in a really long time. Maybe ever. How can I tell my friend that she is welcome any time at my house, but if her dog comes over and I am left alone with it, one of us will have to die?

A. My goodness, that seems like an awfully extreme response. Nonetheless, if that really is your bottom line, perhaps you should preface it by talking about how death is a part of life. It sounds like this dog, for example, has lived a long and happy life. Maybe you could begin by complimenting her on the wonderful job she has done keeping him alive all these years. You could compare his lifespan with your own, for example, and list some of your accomplishments, and some of his. In this way, you can highlight how either of you losing your lives might be considered tragic. This might help your friend see what a difficult position it would put you in to have the dog alone at your house again in the future.

Q. Does size matter?

A. Well, this is an age-old question, it seems. The short answer is that it matters less than technique, and it mostly only matters in the most extreme of cases.
Oh, wait! This question was about truck engines. Sorry, the rest of it was on the next page. In that case: yes. It matters. There is no substitute for cubic inches.

Today’s on-air advice, Part I

Q. When my live-in boyfriend and I split up not too long ago, I fought hard to keep the car we had bought together, because I thought it was a really nice car. Since then, though, it has had all kinds of problems and I’m sick of dealing with it. I can’t sell it back to my ex-boyfriend now—he won’t take it—and I haven’t had any luck selling it to anyone else. Even if I did, I can’t afford to buy a new one right now, and I need this crappy car to get to work. In the meantime, I can’t really afford the insurance, and I’m really tense about maybe getting pulled over and not having any. This whole thing is just stressing me out. What can I do?

A. Well, if your insurance isn’t affordable, it sounds like that might actually work to your advantage in this case. Just how good is your coverage? Are you still paying on the car? If you are, you’re required by the dealership to carry what’s called “gap” insurance, in case you wreck the car before it’s paid off, so the bank still gets its money. What you want to do is also take out the maximum insurance you possibly can. Don’t worry—you won’t be making a lot of payments at this rate, and it will be a worthwhile investment.
You’ll want to take your car to some isolated place that’s still within an hour or so’s walk of civilization. Bring a cigarette lighter and a roll of paper towels with only about half a dozen or so towels left on it. Get out of the car, and once you’re sure you have all your valuables, stuff some of the paper towels in the gas tank, and light them. Then, begin walking back toward civilization. You’ll then have all that time to get rid of the cardboard paper towel tube, come up with a story of how your car got stolen, and relax. Try breathing deeply while you’re walking.
When you get there, report your car stolen, and tell your story breathlessly to anyone who will listen. Just, please, when the police take your statement, if you go with the carjacking story, be respectful of other ethnicities and use your own, whatever that may be. That is the polite thing to do in this day and age: get along with your fellow human beings.

Q. What’s the deal with Sudoku? Is it dangerous? I like puzzles, but it seems highly addictive and I’m afraid to try it.

A. Sudoku is indeed a puzzle—a sort of cross-number puzzle, where you try to get the numbers 1 – 9 in each column, row and square without repeating any of them in those regions. Is it dangerous? I suppose that depends on your sense of danger. If you are frightened by thin sheets of paper or equilateral rectangles, or if you have a terrible graphite allergy, sure, I guess it could be dangerous.
You know, sometimes fear is a good thing. It keeps us from doing potentially life-threatening things by setting off internal alarm bells when we do things like stand too close to the edge of a cliff or notice that the milk we’re about to drink smells sour. What you need to ask yourself, though, is what kind of alarm is being set off by this otherwise innocuous number puzzle and what sort of evolutionary function that might be serving. What do you think? Is it really dangerous? What about it makes you afraid? If you feel there really is some threat to life and limb, you may want to consider long-term counseling.

Q. About six weeks ago, I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me. I didn’t care who with—I just broke it off. I can’t stand being cheated on. The next day, though, as I was driving by my best friend’s house, I saw his car in her driveway. I asked her about it later on, and it turned out she was the one he was seeing.
Now, I’ve moved on in my love life, but I don’t really know what to do about my best friend now. We used to have afternoon tea once or twice a week and do a lot of things together—none of which I seem to be able to do by myself now. It’s just not the same. Is this friendship over?

A. That would depend on how your feel about your friend at this point. Do you think you can each get past this awkward period in your friendship and move on? It doesn’t sound like it bothers you that she ended up with your boyfriend, which is great. Is she going to be smug about it, though, do you think, and if she is, will that bother you? Would it bother you that, knowing how you feel about being cheated on, she colluded with someone to do just that to you? Would you be inclined to trust her again after that? For that matter, how important is trust in your friendship? Would you, for example, be trying to fall asleep but be unable to keep from picturing her snickering about things you have confided in her, and what she might do with that information after she’s finished being entertained by it? I mean, do you really know what her intentions are with regard to the relationship? It might be worthwhile to ascertain the answers to some of these questions before you make your decision as to how to proceed.

On-air advice from today’s Ironfeather show, Part II

Q. Lately, because of debates about intelligent design and evolution, I’ve been hearing a lot about scientific theories. A very religious friend of mine said evolution was only a theory, and it had yet to be proven. Another friend of mine, who teaches high school science, said gravity was a theory, too, and we are pretty sure about that. I thought I remembered hearing something about gravity being governed by Newton’s Law, though, so I’m very confused. How sure are we about evolution, and what does its status as a theory really mean?

A. You’re right: gravity used to be considered law during the Enlightenment, and it got downgraded to a theory by Einstein—mostly because he was theorizing about things like quantum gravity, and other sneaky ways of getting around Newton’s laws. I wouldn’t worry about falling off the earth, though. You’re unlikely to be affected by those sneaky ways in your everyday life. It’s just that the more we figure out about the universe, the more exceptions we can think of to a given law, and the more we discover we may not know. Consequently, we’ve become a bit more skittish about calling something a law than, say, the scientists of the Enlightenment were. Hence Newton’s law, but Einstein’s calling gravity a theory.
As far as evolution goes, gravity is a reasonable comparison: we are about as sure of it as we are that we probably won’t fall off the earth and go whizzing into space, or smack into Heaven, or whatever.
What makes this debate difficult is that it has absolutely nothing to do with scientific accuracy or proof. It has to do with the nature of faith. You see, the depth of people’s religious faith is often measured in how much they are willing to trust what they are told by their religious leaders. They will consider “sticking to their guns” to be a success—not determining whether or not something can be proven with evidence, objectively replicated and successfully peer reviewed. The more compelling the evidence with which they are presented, the greater the test of their faith, and the greater their victories for ignoring that evidence in favor of believing what they already believe.
With science, on the other hand, a negative result yields useful information, too. A “no” answer to a scientific question is considered valuable, just as a “yes” answer confirming the researcher’s hypothesis is. So if we were to find out that evolution was merely a hoax perpetrated by evil mutant robot scientists like Charles “Birdbeard” Darwin, that would be extremely useful information, and scientific theory would be revised accordingly.

Q. I’ve done something stupid. [Nice. I don’t usually get anyone coming right out and saying it. How refreshing! Anyway, to continue…] I have a friend, another guy, who is OK in small doses, but kinda hard to be around for hours on end, multiple times a week. I used to see him every once in a while when we were on the company softball team, and that was great. He’s also the boss’ son, so being friends with him has been really helpful to my career. A few months ago, though, he moved into my apartment building and he was spending an inordinate amount of time at my place, where I couldn’t get away from him, and it was crazymaking! Sometimes I wished I could just push him out the window. But I’m sure I’d get fired for that, even if I could somehow make it look like he jumped.
Something you said on a broadcast a while back got me thinking. I thought, what if I hit on him? I was sure he wasn’t gay, so I was pretty sure that would make him uncomfortable enough not to be around me so much, at least for a little while. So I did that. That was the stupid thing I did.
It was stupid because he gave me this whole speech about how he wasn’t really gay, but he’d always been a little curious about me and it was really confusing for him, and that’s why he’s been around me so much. In the last week, he has also started buying me expensive gifts, which are nice in themselves, but he actually wants me to be his first gay experience, and now being around him is intolerable! I am NOT gay! Even if I were, I wouldn’t want to have sex with him. I can’t fake it, but I also can’t tell him why I made up that ruse in the first place. I’d lose a friend, access to his season football tickets, and maybe even my job. Although I’m beginning to think that would be a small price to pay if keeping those things meant I had to have sex with him. I hope to God he hasn’t told his father—or anyone else, for that matter—about “us.”
Please, please, PLEASE, I’m begging you, help me out!

A. Well, you have a few things that are really working in your favor here. First, you’re willing to make sacrifices to solve your problem. Too many people have difficult problems but want these easy solutions that require no sacrifice at all. The world doesn’t work that way. So, good for you. You are also ready to admit that you made a mistake, and that kind of confession always takes the burden off a troubled soul, you know? It seems like you may also have a little bit of time—at least a few days or maybe a week or so. You basically have everything you need to get out of this mess.
First, you’ll want to find the birth certificate of someone about your age, who died in childhood. This is easier to do than you might think, because it’s a matter of public record. Next, take that birth certificate to the DMV and get an ID with that person’s name on it and your picture. Also, get that person a Social Security number, because that will be important later.
Next, go to a bank across town and open an account. If you’re close to a state border, even better—go across the border and do it there. It doesn’t have to be at a particularly good bank, or one that gives you a toaster for opening a new account, or even really solvent—it just has to stay open for a few weeks and give you back your money when you ask for it. Once that’s all done, move your money over there, and put any belongings you really care about into storage under the new name, ideally somewhere near the bank.
The next part is the tricky part. If you just disappear, your would-be lover will probably look for you, so you have to make that very unappealing. I would recommend leaving an note behind saying that the mob is after you and you have to disappear for a while, and not to try to contact you. You can also leave behind a suicide note, of course, or try the down-the-manhole exploding car trick I detailed in the December 2007 broadcast. It doesn’t really matter, as long as it offers a compelling reason not to try to follow you: you’re already dead (which, in a way, you will be), following you will bring too much risk on him, you’re crazy… Whatever works. Then, simply head out of town, go to the bank and the storage locker on the way, and start your exciting new life.
This will leave you free to start a new life in the location of your choice, and isn’t that what we all wish we had? A happy side benefit of this plan is that you can leave your debts with your old identity, too, along with old girlfriends and anything else. Enjoy your newfound freedom!
Or you could just tell him you already have a boyfriend.

On-air advice from today’s Ironfeather show, Part I

Q. I was in a very bad car accident about two months ago. Miraculously, I had only minor injuries and was able to walk away, but my car was totaled. Since then, it seems all I can think about his how close I came to being killed, and how fragile life is. When I think about how I’m going to die one day, whether I have another car accident or not, I get so nervous it’s hard to breathe. Some days, I’m afraid to cross the street if I’m not in a big crowd of other people. I think it’s possible I’m afraid of death or dying, but given that death is inevitable, how do I get over my fear?

A. Well, common methods of conquering fears tend to involve confronting them. With a fear of heights, for example, you would start by getting up on something relatively low, like a step or a chair, and looking down, until you felt comfortable doing that. Then, you would move to things like ladders or low roofs. Eventually, by working your way up to confronting the larger fears, you would do away with them entirely.
Since this is a proven method with a good track record, it may very well be the best for confronting your particular fear as well. You may want to start small, by, say, thinking about how you would like to die if you could choose the method, or attending a funeral. Once that sort of thing no longer upsets you, if you live in a state where the County Coroner is an elected official, citizens can often make appointments to visit the coroner’s office and observe what kinds of things happen there. You might spend some time at the morgue, at funeral homes, or at hospitals with poor service ratings.
Since your fear is specifically about your own mortality, though, you will eventually need to face that head-on, or your preoccupation with death may well distract you from living the rest of your life. I would encourage you to try things like rock climbing, skydiving, bungee jumping, and the like. Once you master that kind of thing, you will be ready to face down more direct threats to your life in less controlled environments: finding and confronting bears in the wild, for example, or driving briskly in the Country Buffet parking lot after the Early Bird Special has just ended.
The important thing to remember is that you must confront your fears to get past them. The better you can do that, the more effective this proven therapy will be.

Q. I was recently helping my daughter with her English homework, and I was totally baffled by this one term. Since I know you like grammar questions, I shall ask you. What is a gerund?

A. First of all, nice use of “shall.” Somebody was paying attention to our last broadcast!
Quite simply, a gerund is a verb ending in “-ing” that is being used as a noun. For example, if I were to say, “She is no longer waxing her upper lip or shoulder blades,” “waxing” is just a regular old verb. “She” is the subject of the sentence. However, if I were to say, “Waxing her upper lip takes some of the uncertainty out of calling her ‘ma’am,’” then “waxing” is the subject of the sentence, and it’s also being used as a noun. “Waxing” in this case is a thing, a practice, an idea—and therefore, a gerund.

Q. I am a college student, and I’m in a sorority where a lot of my sisters have tattoos. This year, during Spring Break, we all went to the same resort, and four of them got tattoos, including the only other one of my sisters who didn’t have one before. I know I shouldn’t give in to peer pressure, and that a tattoo is going to be on my body forever, so I shouldn’t listen to people who aren’t going to have to live with my choice. I want to fit in with the rest of the sorority, but I’m not so sure I want a permanent mark on my body that will last the rest of my life. What if I don’t like it anymore in another five years, or twenty, or fifty? Worse, what if it hurts too much and I have to stop in the middle? I don’t want people to think I was too much of a baby to even finish the design.

A. Well, you are certainly right to make this decision carefully. If you feel you really have made a terrible mistake later, though, there is always laser removal (although it can leave a scar), or easier, adding to or changing the design. It is also possible to finish the design when you get up the nerve. The ink isn’t going anywhere.
I would say the larger question here is how to avoid getting a stupid tattoo. I mean, if you are seriously considering permanently marking your body for the acceptance of others, the last thing you want is for that marking to become hideously outdated. You might try selecting a truly classic design that you don’t think will ever go out of style. Those you can pick from the various sheets of paper on the walls of any reputable tattoo parlor: hearts, butterflies, snakes making their way through empty eye sockets, that sort of thing. You might also keep in mind that you may well still have this picture when you’re 50 years old, or 75, or older. Will that tribal armband tattoo you got when you were 20 still be recognizable then—both because people then may not remember those, and will wonder what it is, and because virtually any tattoo you get will end up lower and more melted-looking than it was when you got it? Will you want to wear a sleeveless dress to your son’s wedding, and will your tattoo cause you embarrassment with your new family and friends if you do that?
Therefore, this is my recommendation: consider a skull tattoo. Shave off part or all of your hair, and get your tattoo there. Not only will your sorority sisters and others be impressed with how “hard core” you are, but if you decide you no longer want to show the tattoo, you need only allow your hair to grow back. You can get it cut and styled conservatively, and barring any terrible head injuries or brain surgery, nobody ever need be the wiser. It’s like a little secret of your misspent youth. And these are the things that make us smile when we’re older. This way, you can enjoy yourself both now, and when your friends’ cute belly tattoos of Calvin and Hobbes look like they’ve already been picked up from the comic strip with Silly Putty.

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