Dearest Timothy,
My husband is deeply, categorically not into Valentine’s Day. It’s not that he is opposed to taking a day to celebrate each other, but he feels that there is too much pressure associated with February 14th and he would prefer to celebrate another day. I, on the other hand, never had anyone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with until we got together, so I really look forward to doing all that mushy love stuff that day. How can we meet in the middle?
What do you mean, there was nobody before him? You never even got a Valentine in preschool? Grade school? High school? Is he the first man you ever met? Where have you been? Do you live in Horse Cave, Kentucky? Good god! I feel sorry for you, you poor baby. No wonder you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day. You should be given an award: “I Caught One.” You caught a man, girl. Celebrate that. Celebrate I Caught a Man Day. I don’t understand how you got him in the first place.
Anyway, maybe he’s not romantic. You don’t need to expect much of him. The best thing to do is to have no expectations whatsoever. Then, if he buys you a Valentine card, or finds one out on the street in front of Jimmy John’s, you’ll be quite happy. But have no expectations. You ain’t getting no candy, no perfume, no cheesy underwear from Victoria’s Secret. You’re not getting a thing, girl. You should really just plan on celebrating yourself. Celebrate the fact that you got that winner. Lucky you.
My best friend just adopted a little Maltipoo. (For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call her “Muffin.”) My friend is completely obsessed with Muffin. She takes her everywhere. She has even taken her into restaurants, insisting that Muffin is her Emotional Support Animal and, as with any service dog, the restaurant is legally bound to allow her to have Muffin with her as she dines. It’s not true that Muffin is an Emotional Support Animal – she just wants the dog around at all times and Muffin can’t stand to be left alone. What’s worse is Muffin is not very well behaved, but my friend insists that she is a perfect dog. How can I shake my friend of this new (and very strange) codependency?
You need to find a dog with rabies to bite both of them. That would help. I think that’s your solution. Take her to a bad area and find some nasty dog with rabies and let it tear the hell out of both of them. Maybe reality will strike.
Taking that dog into restaurants, my goodness. You need to take her to some Vietnamese restaurant where they might cook that booger for her. She wants to be close to the dog, let her ingest the booger. They’ll be closer than ever. She is one sick puppy. It’s not the dog’s fault – Muffin is acting just like her. Sick, sick, sick.
We all have our routines and rituals. Every Sunday morning, I look forward to brewing a pot of coffee, bringing my New York Times inside, and quietly working on the crossword puzzle (taking a break, as needed, by browsing through the rest of the Magazine. You know the Sunday puzzle is the hardest!). Here’s the problem. My lovely girlfriend, who recently moved in with me, is apparently unaware of my ritual. She shuffles downstairs in the morning, pours a big cup of coffee, and grabs the Magazine, proceeding to read it cover to cover. Slowly. I don’t want to cause a rift, as she obviously enjoys her routine as well, but damn it, it’s my subscription and it’s my favorite part about Sunday. How can I bring it up without seeming like a complete brat?
You have to learn to take up for yourself. Obviously, you were picked on on the playground. They took your little Reese’s Cup and ate it and made fun of you. Just tell her, “This is my paper. If you want to read it, you’re going to have to get one of your own.” Or tell her she can read the other sections, but you get the magazine first. If you don’t have the balls to tell her that, she has every right to take it away from you. You’re a wimpette and she is a tough booger. There is no solution unless you take action. If you’re too afraid to take action, that’s too bad.
I can tell you right now, she’s not going to like what’s coming, so you better get ready for the rift. It’s either no rift and no read, or rift and read. Rift and read. Rift yourself all the way to the newspaper stand and get her a paper if you’re such a wimp. Have a nice Sunday.
I’m getting ready to propose to my girlfriend and I kind of want to do it on Valentine’s Day. Does that make me a total commercialist cad?
I don’t know whether it’s lame to propose marriage on a commercial chocolate day or not. Hmmm. Hallmark, call me up! You could maybe get a bit more creative – you know, try Groundhog Day, American Ladder Association Day. There are a lot of good ones. Honey, you could tell her you’ve always dreamed of climbing into bed with her on Ladder Day.
It’s kind of wimpy, but you can do it if you want. At least you’ll always remember when you proposed. Maybe you should get married on Valentine’s Day. Have your first baby on Valentine’s Day. You could even get divorced on Valentine’s Day. Then you’ll never have to remember anything other than February 14.
I don’t know what to tell you. You’re not very creative, unfortunately. But I hope you’re a great lover, because you don’t have much else going for you.
I’m turning 30 this month. I’m not terribly concerned over the milestone, but I do wonder if I have accomplished all one should have by this age. If you could give any advice to 29-year-old you (or, 29-year-old me, as the case may be), what would it be?
Number one: Be grateful for what you’ve been given. You might not even live another two years. Be grateful for all the things you have. If you have good health, if you have an education, if you have a job, if you’re not living under the viaducts by the train tracks with dirty clothes and no food – you know, looking good – then be grateful.
Quit worrying about what you have to accomplish. Living in itself is an art – day by day. You’re only going to accomplish what you’re going to accomplish whether you work at it or if you just put your time in.
You will be OK as long as you are OK with what you do. And if you’re not OK with what you do, then you need a therapist. At least be successful enough to afford a therapist. Then you’ll know you’re successful!
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