Dear Lucy, Volume Two. You all need to start taking better advantage of me, seriously.

            I am not 100% sure what’s going on with you all, honestly.

Last month, I did a very successful advice column in which I helped many, many people with very important issues. We discussed things like how to make men like you, and annoying people, and the Alvin and the Chipmunks theme. So of course this month, I was SURE I’d have a ton of questions. I mean, seriously, if I wasn’t me, I’d take advantage of my helpfulness and amazing advice-giving capabilities! But I AM me, and I cannot even tell you how well that’s going for me. I was telling Luis Fernando, my poolboy, just the other day – oh, have I not told you about Luis Fernando? Yes, he’s Argentinian, and quite a catch! I’ll have to have you over sometime, his caipirinhas are to die for, he muddles divinely. Anyhoo. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Nando and I were just saying, over sugarcane beverages and footrubs, what an excellent exciting time it is to be me, darling, I can’t even express the fabulosity of this existence!

FINE there is no Luis Fernando or fancy beverages and I hate footrubs but my place DOES have a really scuzzy pool over by the laundry room where there are always kids that look like they have ringworm, are you satisfied? SEND ME SOME DAMN QUESTIONS ALREADY I AM EXCELLENT AT ANSWERING THEM.

I got two questions this month. TWO! I am putting my complete and total expertise out there and you are not taking advantage. How often does a total stranger let you take advantage of them online without it being a sting operation? Not very damn often. It’s usually the other way around and it’s a Nigerian prince trying to steal your money or tell you about the lottery you won that you never played.

I expect better from you, internet. I really do. FOR SHAME. Well, except the two questions that WERE submitted. All good things to you, question-submitters. As a thank you, please accept my totally awesome and not-at-all tongue-in-cheek advice. 

So I went to Yahoo Answers and got some questions from there so I can help those people. Because listen, have you ever BEEN to Yahoo Answers? THEY NEED MY HELP.

Dear Lucy, Volume Two

(A Very Helpful and Not-at-All-Snarky Advice Column) 

Q:         I’m in need of a real good life quote. What’s your favorite life quote/saying? –THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE 

A:          Well! Hello, Truth. I appreciate that you’ve come to me for guidance. I am super-good at helpful guidance, as seen by last month’s column and above and pretty much everywhere I can be found. Let’s see. You want a quote about life. Here is a quote about life that I think will not only apply to every single situation you encounter, but will make people think you are literate and well-read and possibly a little unhinged and storm-cloudy. “What fresh hell is this?” Dorothy Parker said that. You can have that one, for tee-shirts, or whatever. With my compliments. All for you, Truth! What’s that? You wanted something more cheerful? Well, you’re a little picky, and I don’t think I like your tone. Fine. Then you get “Life’s hard. It’s even harder when you’re stupid.” I think you’ll find that one applies to life and to you in particular. Who’s that one from? Google it, Truth. If you can’t use Google, I’m sorry, I can’t help you any further. 

Q:         Why do gay people think their better than everyone else when god says there not? –OPEN-MINDED 

A:          I have some questions, actually, before I answer yours, OM. First: grammatically-speaking, can you spot all three of your errors in this question? I'm only speaking grammatically. I'm not speaking dogmatically or even intelligence-wise. Because if we're talking about "are gay people better than me, based on my command of English grammar rules," the answer is YES. YES MOST OF THEM ARE. Second, did God talk to you and tell you that gay people aren't better than everyone else? Or did you read that in the Bible? If so, where, exactly? I'd like chapter and verse, please. Because I know all of the passages that the thumpers like to spout when hate-speechifying, and none of them refer to "and then God spoke and He said 'no man that lyeth down with another man as with a woman is better than everyone else.'" Third, what kind of gay people are you hanging out with? Because the ones I know don't think they're "better" than everyone else. They think they're the SAME as everyone else. And as such, should be afforded the same rights and privileges. So, to answer your not-at-all-hurting-my-brain-and-eyes question, OM, the answer is they don't, and God doesn't, and there = where it is, their = belonging to them, and they're = they are. An example sentence, in which they are all used correctly, is "There is something wrong with people who are vocally homophobic when they're being hate-filled and evil by sharing their views publically in such a fashion." 

Q:        Why do people who don't believe in marriage get married? Background: a friend is going through a divorce after a year of marriage and, when questioned, said he didn't ever want to get married, he just did it because his girlfriend wanted to. –RENO-STYLE 

A:          My guess, Reno, is cake. Cake and societal pressure. Both are very strong forces; one for good, one for evil. Let's delve further into this cake issue. Recently, there has been this stupid meme going around Facebook. One of those "tag the top six people in your profile" things. And twice now I've been tagged as "the person most likely to steal and eat all of your wedding cake." Well, that is CORRECT. I don't know about stealing, though. At weddings? THEY GIVE YOU CAKE. It's true! You get cake. On a little plate! And it's usually delicious. Although sometimes it's fruit-filled or has jam and that's just a mean, mean trick. That's like adding raisins to a chocolate chip cookie. Why so mean, fruit people? Wedding cake should not have fruit. Unless it's pineapple. I could be down with pineapple. Anyway, I can see someone who was ambivalent about linking his or her future permanently to someone else's letting their decision be made by cake. I mean, there's a HUGE cake. And it's all for you. (Well, and your guests. But you get first dibs. And probably leftovers.) Second, societal pressure. Society expects us to pair up. And also, the paired-up folks make you WANT to pair up! I mean, you see on television and in movies and whatnot these adorable couples making dinner and finishing each other's sentences and getting all the exciting latte makers in huge piles of wedding gifts and eating all the cake and whatnot, and you want that! YOU TOTALLY WANT THAT. But then reality sets in, and you have someone living in your house ALL THE TIME. And they aren't as nice to you as when you were dating. And they don't leave! When they get annoying, they don't go home! BECAUSE THEY ARE HOME. So you are stuck until you get a divorce. But once you get a divorce, I bet people bring you all kinds of pity cake. So that's kind of a win, if you think about it in a positive light. 

Q:         Do girls like black hair? --CLARK KENT 

A:          I would assume so, Clark. Did you hear differently? Did someone tell you, Clark! Dye your hair another color or I'm so not going to the Spring Formal with you? I can't say I 100% understand your question, honestly. You are talking about hair on your head, right, and not weird body hair or something? I think girls might like a lot of things. It changes, as they age. When you're a kid, girls like the boys who make them laugh and share their snacks. When you're a teenager, girls like the boys who...well, make them laugh and share their snacks. And as adults, women like the men who...shit, it doesn't change at all, does it? We all just want a guy who makes us laugh and shares his Combos at recess. The color of a guy's hair really isn't something we consider. Well, not really. We all have preferences, I guess. I'm a fan of ginger boys and don't trust blondes; others might dig brunettes or Mr. Clean bald men, for all I know. I guess my answer is yes, Clark, yes, girls like black hair. Just make sure it's washed. Oh, and don't do that Bieber emo comb-forward shit. It makes me twitchy. Also I Tourette's-like yell out "HOW CAN HE SEE?" when I am around those kids. It's involuntary. 

Q:         Why does my cat claw the door when I’m in the bathroom, run in when I open the door, and jump on top of the hamper? –KITTY MAMA 

A:          Because it is a cat. Cats do a lot of stupid things. Sometimes mine gets the heebie-jeebies and I think sees a ghost and starts yowling at the wall and then plays dead and then runs around and his tail gets all big and then attacks my ankle. I don't have an explanation for that, either. My guess is your cat, like almost every cat I've ever met, is a crazy, furry, neurotic mess. The door is SHUT! He wants it OPEN! You are SITTING! He wants to SIT BY YOU! You are PEEING! He wants to ALSO BE IN THE ROOM! Nuts, Kitty. They're nuts. But they're really warm and furry and give headbutts, so we deal with the insanity. 

Q:         What does it mean when a guy rests his leg against yours under a table? –CURIOUS KATE 

A:          Kate, this is a very good question. It could mean many things, depending on context. Is the table small? There could be just not enough room and he has no choice. Is there a ton of room under there? He could be participating in frottage. Is he jiggling his leg around a lot? He could be trying to scratch an itch. Is he moving his foot around a lot and is your purse under the table? He could be trying to pickpocket you by grabbing your pursestrap with his foot like in this old movie I watched once and also don't ever put your purse on a restaurant floor because it is FILTHY down there. Oh, I am informed by a friend you are fishing around for me to tell you that he is indicating he is interested in you sexually. Well, that seems to be a very stupid way of showing it. Putting his hot sticky leg on yours? Why doesn't he just club you over the head and cart you off to his cave over his shoulder? The next time you want to know if someone lurrrves you once you start engaging in the phantom leg bumpage, Kate, I suggest simply saying the following (which only works if his name is Frederick): "Frederick, I notice you are resting your leg against mine under the table. I am enjoying this sensation, but am not sure of your intentions. If you are making an overture of romance toward my person, please speak of it to me; I am eager to wed, as I hear there is cake." 

Q:         Why isn't romance like it is in the movies? –WHEN HARRY MET SALLY 

A:          Listen, here is a story that might help you in your situation, Sally. Last night, I watched Beastly. Everyone told me I would hate it, not just my friends but reviewers, random people, the person I rented it from, EVERYONE. And I didn't hate it. Now, I know what you're thinking! I am broken and you never want to come to a movie with me. Well, that is TRUE. However! It was kind of touching and really dorky at times and the book was a kajillion times better but it was sweet, aw, and had people I liked in it and also NPH who is my favorite. What? Where am I GOING with this? You obviously don't understand how it works, being a super-awesome advice columnist. You get to the point ORGANICALLY. Like cage-free eggs. Oh, I have no idea where I was going with this. Why isn't romance like it is in the movies? That's a stupid question. NOTHING'S like it is in the movies. Your best friend never falls in love with you, there aren't 80 million serial killers on the loose at any given time, no one has a secret crush on you, there's not always an Armageddon happening, there aren't always car chases, and the guy you fight all the time with doesn't secretly love you, he really does hate you, that's why you're fighting with him. Sorry. If you get a movie romance happening, good for you. But I wouldn't hold my breath. Go take up roller derby or something. Those women seem kick-ass to me. 

Q:         How do you handle a 45-year old woman who just married a 25-year old and has turned into a huge raging dump toward her children? –GRR, ARGH 

A:          Grr, this is a shitty situation all around. First, a 25-year old? I'm thinking he heard the cake rumors. When I was 25, I was not ready to get married. Or even do the dishes on a nightly basis, actually. So that's kind of a suspicious thing to me, right there. Second, I'm assuming since they "just" married, they're in the honeymoon phase, which means lots of sex? So maybe just stay away until that's all over with? Although in my experience, all that sex should have a calmative effect and it seems to be doing the opposite with her. I'm at a loss. And I really did want to help. So I'm going to suggest ninja stars. I think they're really the best solution, and no one would suspect you because listen, who has ninja stars just laying around? They would probably suspect the new husband, to be frank. (As as aside, when I was in college, my roommate and I were reading our welcome-to-college brochure, and it had a list of do's and don'ts. And one of the prohibited items was "chukka sticks." So we were all, "What the hell is a chukka stick?" until we realized probably whoever wrote the thing thought that's what kids today were calling nunchucks. This was one of the highlights of my junior year.) And also, nice usage of "huge raging dump." Please to be teaching the grammar to Open-Minded above? 

Q:         What did you do today, baby? –BINOCULAR BOY 

A:          I don't...I woke up and came to work and did some work and now I am writing super-good advice ARE YOU WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW? Because that is freaking me OUT. Stop it. STOP IT. Who writes into an advice column with a question like this? DISTRESSING. You know what I DIDN'T do today? Forget to sharpen my knives or load my shotgun. Get out of my tree, McFly, I don't need any Peeping Toms today. 

Now you are HELPED. Go! Help others with your newfound wisdom! And the next time I ask you to send me questions, SEND THEM WEIRDOS. I can't help you if you won't let me.  And just between us, you totally need it. But your hair or whatever you're wearing today looks fabulous!

Every Time You Speak to Me You Tell Me What to Do

About a week and a half ago, The Huffington Post featured a post in its culture section by Peg Aloi entitled "Tough Gals: Do They Still Exist?" This article was pointed out to me last night by one of my friends. Where was I on August 11th? How did this particular article escape me for 9 days? I know I worked that day, and I'm guessing I had rehearsal that night, because that's pretty much been my life for the past month or so. I do remember seeing mentions on Twitter over the past week, women saying that they were cupcake-baking, knitting, kick-ass women, but I didn't know it related to anything in particular. I just thought they were giving their own personal credo, or something. And they are kick-ass women, so I approved of that message.

Although I'd like to not give Ms. Aloi any additional traffic, I do encourage you to click above and read the article. If you'd rather not, for one reason or another, here's a brief summary:

Women who blog about cupcakes, Hello Kitty, gardening, knitting, and cats are girly. Not that there's anything wrong with the blogs...but there's something wrong with being girly. Because we're women! And we shouldn't be girly! We should be badass! Feminists who came before us fought hard for that right, and we're throwing it away with these girly pursuits! We've "lost sight of what it means to be a badass, tough, strong woman"! Women aren't having fun - instead, we like cooking, Jane Austen, and heirloom tomatoes! We've "become complacent"! "We're not tough anymore; we're soft"!

Oh, for the love of Sanrio.

Listen. LISTEN. We've talked about this, here, on my blog, in the past. Women telling us what to do and what to feel and who to be because the author knows the right way to do these things, under the guide of feminism. Because the author is the arbiter of womanhood. Because there's a mold, and women should fit that mold, and if they don't, they're lesser - lesser human beings, lesser women, lesser examples of shining femaleness than the author herself.

I AM SO GODDAMN TIRED OF BEING TOLD WHO TO BE.

Men, sorry to leave you out, here, and I'm sure you face societal pressure up the wazoo as well, but as I am not in possession of a Y chromosome, I don't know what those are, exactly. This is not meant to slight you. I'd be interested, actually, in reading a post about the type of societal pressures a young man faces; if someone wants to point me in the direction of a good one, it would be appreciated.

Women, from a young age, are told how to act in order to fit society's norms. There are exceptions, but overall, even in this day and age, there are toddlers in frilly dresses and bows scotch-taped onto the bald heads of baby girls for photo day and the moniker "tomboy" (usually said either with a sneer or a knowing nod.) As we get older, more expectations. Makeup. What to wear. How to act. At what age to start dating. What's appropriate and what's weird. The list goes on; I'm sure the women reading this can think of a million examples in their own life where they wanted to be doing one thing but were gently (or not-so-gently) nudged in another direction because it wasn't "cool" enough or "girly" enough or whatever enough to fit in the very strict lines that were drawn by whoever draws these things.

But as we grow up, we realize things, like being who we are is more fulfilling than making other people like us, and that there's nothing at all wrong with, say, watching Vh1 Celebreality all day rather than shopping or getting a mani-pedi or whatever it is the "cool" kids are doing. We're not here to please anyone but ourselves, when we get older. And that's a nice feeling, you know? It's a feeling I'd like to be able to go back and bestow upon the teenage me, who was always scrambling to keep up with what was expected of her and failing miserably and very unhappy in the bargain.

But then you get women like Julie Klausner telling us that we're too infantilized if we like Converse sneakers, cupcakes, Etsy jewelry, or birds, and Peg Aloi telling us that we're not tough if we like knitting, gardening, Hello Kitty, or, again, cupcakes. (Why so much cupcake hate? Do these women equally hate sheet cakes? Who hates cake? I feel like hating cake = hating America, honestly.)

These women are just grown-up versions of the bitches in high school who set the trends. The Plastics, really. The Wednesdays-We-Wear-Pink girls. The girls who arbitrarily decide "on this side of the line is what's cool, and on this side of the line is what's not, and I'll tell you how high you have to jump and how hard you have to beg to be on the right side of the line." And do you know how to tell they're bitches? Because they're telling you you're not good enough. They're making you feel less-than. They're telling you, "Listen, if you like this, this, and this? You don't measure up."

I don't want to be in your Special People Club.

It doesn't make you less tough if you knit, bake, or garden. The article actually contradicts itself all over the place - Aloi will make a blanket statement like "Tough girls don't knit because that's what our foremothers did!" and then couch it with "But man our foremothers, right? Whoo! They were certainly tough, you know, in their own way!" Why are the two mutually exclusive? Why can't you be a badass tough-as-nails mofo AND make a mean cupcake?

Because Aloi SAYS SO.

There are currently 326 comments under her article. I didn't read them all - I actually do have a life, sorry to disappoint! - but have read a large number of them, and the themes running through them are:

• Screw you, Peg Aloi, you judgmental hag.
• Why can't you kick-ass and knit?
• What the hell?
• This isn't the 1800's. We aren't *required* to knit now. It's a *choice* we make.
• I kind of want to stab you with my knitting needles.
• You know what's awesome? Feminist women telling others how to behave.

And do you know what's missing? Ms. Aloi. She hasn't made a PEEP. She is GONE. Just like Julie Klausner, who, to the best of my knowledge, dropped that load-of-shit article on us back in June and never commented on the fury it ignited, Ms. Aloi hasn't responded in the least.

Now, I'm not saying she has to. She has the right to her own opinion. It would be hypocritical of me to say I can't stand women telling me how to behave and then turn around and tell Ms. Aloi how to do so.  On some level, I almost, almost, think I get, in a tiny way, what she might have been trying to say. Because listen, girly-girl giggly shit sets my teeth on edge, too. Feigned helplessness. Doe-eyed false childishness. But that's never mentioned, so I assume that's not what she's referring to, and what I take objection to in these behaviors is that the women using them are pretending to be something they're not because they think that's how they have to act in order to get what they want - a man, a promotion, taken care of, etc. (And yes, I realize I'm being a little hypocritical - I tell people they're doing douchey things on here all the time, and even in judging these type of women, that's doing something I'm calling her out for. Thing is, I have a blog that doesn't have a fraction of the readership that The Huffington Post does, and I'd like to think that I wouldn't make a blanket statement like "knitters= weak women so go out and learn to shoot a gun instead" at all without my tongue planted firmly in my cheek. And "pretending you're helpless to 'catch' a man" is very different than "baking cupcakes = weak", no?) 

Here's what it all boils down to, for me. First, being tough is not measured by your leisure activities. Toughness is a state of mind and is reflected in how you react to situations, I think. Am I alone in this? Second, being a bully does not make you tough. Being a bully is actually one of the biggest signs of weakness a person can show. And what Ms. Aloi is doing in this article is bullying. She's bullying women into thinking they are not good enough, that their pasttimes are an affront to womanhood, that they are weak and small and unimportant and childlike because they like traditionally domestic activities.

Personally? I bake a mean cupcake (although my cookies are to die for - seriously, if you've had my Double Dark Chocolate Chunk Espresso Cookies, you know, I am the queen of cookies), I'm wearing a Hello Kitty band-aid RIGHT NOW (honestly, it's because there was this kickass sale a while back and I got a ton of boxes of kiddie band-aids for free so that's all there is in the house at the moment), I can't garden, I hate tomatoes (both heirloom and regular), I love my cats, I can cook enough to keep myself fed, I like Jane Austen but am not in love with her, and I can't knit. But I can crochet. Like a madwoman. And I'm a badass crocheter. I mean, I can make CLOTHES. I've made WHOLE BLANKETS. I'm very, very good at it.

I'm also tough. And no one telling me I'm not, based on my habits and activities, is able to take that away from me. I'm secure in the knowledge of my strength. Bigger bullies than you, Ms. Aloi, have worked me over, sorry to say. You're small-time.

If you're not secure in your own inner strength, Ms. Aloi, don't try to pass that off onto the rest of us. That's not very tough of you. And as for women who aren't having enough "fun" - well, I'm glad you're the fun police? What a nice title to have! But please let me be the judge of what's enjoyable in my own life.

Women - if you take anything away from this, please let it be this. You are good enough. You are amazing. You are just who you are meant to be; you love what you are meant to love; and anyone who tells you that you are not good enough, and that you don't measure up, and that your behaviors and the things you enjoy are not acceptable? IS AN ASSHOLE AND A BULLY. People like this should not be in your life. They are emotional vampires. They will take away your inner strength and use it to prop themselves up because they don't have any of their own. You are the only person who can stop this behavior; you are the only person who can say, "No, you know what? I don't accept this treatment, I deserve better than this" and get gone, either by removing them or removing yourself. 

I'm not telling you how to act; I'm not bullying you; I'm just saying your personal net worth is immeasurable, and you can't even imagine the weight that's lifted the moment you realize that.

(Side note - research on Peg Aloi tells me that she teaches at a college here in the town where I live. So, that's fun. And maybe when I'm buying groceries I'm rubbing elbows with her! Good gracious I hope I'm not buying heirloom tomatoes OH THE HUMANITY. Don't worry, I'm not. I hate tomatoes.)

(Title's from a Cranberries song - "A Fast One.")

Show Me a Great Actress, and You've Seen the Devil

Over the years, I estimate that I’ve participated in (in some way, shape, or form) approximately 43 billion theater auditions. What? You “doubt” that figure could be “accurate”? Well, I doubt your face is accurate. Ha! I guess I schooled you. 

Yes, yes, I’m exaggerating. But I’ve been to more than my fair share of auditions. First, when I used to act, as an auditioner; now that I’m working for a theater, as one of the scary people who sit in the audience and pass judgment on the people auditioning. And, as such, I have a few helpful tips for anyone planning to audition for a community theater production. 

Now, please note, these tips may or may not hold true for auditioning for film, as I know nothing about that, other than it seems people wait in really long lines when general casting calls come to town and I have to wonder if it’s worth it because I am the MOST IMPATIENT PERSON ALIVE. I can’t even wait five minutes in a grocery store line without starting to grumble under my breath. Some of those people wait OVERNIGHT. I don’t get that. I guess it’s exciting that you might see yourself on the big screen? And you can put it on a resume? And I suppose it has to have happened at least once or twice that a director sees some sort of spark in an extra and turns him or her into the next big thing (but probably that’s not going to happen to you, so I wouldn’t hitch my wagon to that particular star)? 

So here are some tips if you ever plan on auditioning at your local community theater. Helpful! I’m telling you. You come here for the funny, you leave A BETTER PERSON FOR IT. 

Be prepared.  First, read the audition notice. Not just when to show up and the address of the auditions, but the character descriptions and the ages. Are all of the women in the play under the age of 25 and you’re 50 (and you look 50)? You’re probably not going to get cast. It’s really best not to waste anyone’s time – ours or yours. We’re going to think you’re delusional and you’re taking time away from people who actually have a shot at the parts. Second, it doesn’t hurt at all to read the play you’re auditioning for. It’s not a prerequisite, no. I’m not saying don’t show up unless you’ve read it. But this is kind of a test, and wouldn’t you want to have done your homework before showing up with your number two pencils and scrap paper? Also, you might read the play and find out it sucks. I mean, the theater isn’t going to think it sucks, obviously. The theater chose the play for a reason. (In case you’re wondering, theaters don’t arbitrarily choose the plays they do every season, like, throw names in a hat or something. I’ve been on the play selection committee at my theater for years. It’s a lot of work. We read 30-40 submissions and we discuss the hell out of them and do lists of pros and cons and choose directors with care and put them in the order that works best. It’s not something we take lightly.) So anyway. Read the play. Maybe you fit the age range of the actors we’re looking for, but you have a deep issue taking your clothes off onstage and there are three nude scenes. You know not to audition. See? Aren’t you glad you did your homework? Gold star. 

Put your best face forward. Again, we’re not going to NOT cast you if you show up looking like you just rolled out of bed. We’ve cast people like that before, depending on our needs and who gave the strongest audition. But it doesn’t hurt at all to dress neatly and professionally. Am I telling you to wear a ball gown and opera gloves? No, looney tunes, I’m not. (Although, you’re a theater person, no one would even look at you twice if you did.) But even nice jeans and a dressy shirt will do. Also, be prepared to move. Women that show up in too-short skirts kill me, because listen, I’ve gotten too many beaver shots over the years from women who wore inappropriate skirts to auditions and then had to be active in their audition and oh! Hello! I see you wore a thong yikesaroonie! See, I sit in the front of the theater, because I’m usually the one calling out your name and telling you all when to come up and what scene you’ll be reading from. So if there’s crotch to be seen, I’m seeing it. And I can’t UN-see it, you know? Also, you’re not fooling anyone, short-skirt-and-cleavage-top. The days of the casting couch are over. Most of our directors are female, and the male ones, sorry to say, are mostly gay males. (It’s the theater. I don’t know if I’m blowing anyone’s mind, but there are a lot of gay men in theater. I know! Hide yo wife hide yo kids, right?) If you think your sexy-mama getup is going to get you a part, no, it’s not, and also, secret mental points against you for thinking you’d be getting a part with your jiggly bits and not your acting skills. 

Don’t be a douchebag. Don’t come in like you’re too cool to be at the audition. Maybe that works in New York City, I don’t know, because I DON’T LIVE THERE AND OBVIOUSLY NEITHER DO YOU. We’re a decent-sized city, but we’ve got a small-town vibe going for us, especially in the theater scene. Come in nicely, with a smile, be friendly, and do what you’re asked to do without argument. Now, I know, you might be nervous, and this might make you quieter than normal. That’s expected, and that’s fine. But entering in full-on bitch-on-wheels mode? Black mark on your permanent record. Actual examples of this: someone who refused to fill out audition paperwork because “I don’t have time for that,” (and then proceeded to talk on their cell phone for the next half-hour loudly while people were looking over the audition material); someone who went into the theater when we asked the actors not to do so because we were having a meeting in there about the order of auditioners and then refused to leave because the lobby was too crowded and it really wasn’t all that crowded; a person who looked over the audition material and then said “the scene I want to read isn’t here, do you have a script, I’m going to be reading a scene of my own choosing” (this is not an option, but nice that you’ve decided on your own that it is!); and the person who decided at the last minute they weren’t going to audition, but talked loudly to everyone around her all through everyone else’s auditions and distracted everyone. Also? If you’re new to the theater, you don’t know who anyone is, and what their relationship is to everyone else. So BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR TRASH-TALKING. We’re theater people. We gossip, we trash-talk, we bitch. Yes. Yes, that’s what we do. I know that. But if you’re new to a place, you have to watch who you’re doing it TO. I’ll never forget the woman who gave a brilliant audition, and then came back to her seat and started to run down the theater, the area, the other actors, the audition process, and the plays we were doing that season with the person sitting beside her. She did it quietly; she wasn’t distracting. Thing is, the person sitting beside her WAS THE ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF THE SHOW AND A BOARD MEMBER. Needless to say, she wasn’t cast. 

Be honest. We ask the information we need on the audition sheet. If you leave something off – the age range you can play, dates you have a conflict and won’t be able to rehearse, a character you’re unwilling to play, that you’re unwilling to swear, kiss, or be nude onstage – this hinders us in our ability to cast you. See, here’s a backstage peek into the audition process, at least where I work. I assume it’s basically the same in other places. We watch everyone audition. Everyone who showed up and is interested in auditioning gets a chance. Auditions are open; no roles are precast. Then, once we’ve seen everything we want to see, we send everyone home, spread out the audition sheets and our notes, and talk about the roles and who is in contention for them. If you didn’t write that you’re unwilling to play Felicia, and you gave a kick-ass audition for Felicia, you might get cast in that role. Actual conversation I had once with someone we’d cast: “Hi, this is Amy, calling to let you know you’ve been cast as blah-blah role in blah-blah play! Congratulations!” (After a loooong pause) “Oh. I’m not at all interested in that part. I don’t accept. Thank you for calling me, though.” Hmm, let’s think how this could have been avoided. If you’d READ THE PLAY, you’d have known you weren’t interested in the part. Then you could have WRITTEN IT ON YOUR AUDITION SHEET. But even if you didn’t read the play, you sat through two nights of auditions, so you knew you didn’t want that part. Why didn’t you come up to one of us and TELL us, “I’d like to amend something on my audition sheet” and write “not willing to accept the part of Judy” or whatever on it? So THAT was a waste of time. On a happier note, the second person we called for the part – someone we’d decided on for another part and decided to switch to that part – gladly took the role and ROCKED it. She was the star of every review. And every time I read a review raving about her in that role, I hoped like hell the woman I’d called originally was reading it and weeping into her cornflakes. Because I am PETTY and MEAN. 

Don’t be delusional. This one’s tough. I mean, I have to appreciate anyone that shows up. Auditioning is hard, I know. I used to do it. I’m debating doing it again later this season, actually. (Cue nervous nailbiting…NOW.) But you know those people on American Idol that show up and audition and you turn to the person you’re watching it with (or your cat, I don’t know, I don’t judge and NEITHER SHOULD YOU) and say, “She can’t think she’s good. She doesn’t, right? The producers put her there so they’d have someone for the clip show, right? No one’s that delusional, right?” Well, I can’t speak for American Idol? But in real life? THOSE PEOPLE SHOW UP. I’m sorry, people. I really am. The only consolation I have is that you probably don’t know who you are, if you’re reading this – you probably wouldn’t even identify yourself with the “delusional” moniker. I would give examples but I really don’t want anyone reading this accidentally to identify themselves. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. I really don’t. I just find it very hard to believe you can’t see your limitations. Listen, I wouldn’t, for example, show up to audition for a chorus. BECAUSE I CAN’T CARRY A TUNE. Likewise, I would not show up to run a marathon, BECAUSE I AM FRIGHTFULLY OUT OF SHAPE. Is there something I’m not aware of that stops people from realizing they can’t act? I’ve been doing this – seriously, not even exaggerating this time – for almost 24 years, and this still surprises and kind of upsets me. It sometimes takes everything I have not to yell “Really? You aren’t pulling our legs? Where’s the hidden camera?” after one of the really heinous auditions. THEY’RE THAT BAD. Again, no hate mail, I appreciate you coming out, and it takes bravery to audition, it does. But how can you not know? And also, there are classes you can take to get better, maybe take one? I don’t know. 

Don’t take it personally. We get a lot of people auditioning for a few parts. Just playing the odds, you don’t have the best chance of getting a part. If you do – congratulations. It’s the best theater in the area, in my humble opinion; you’re going to love the people; I’m so, so excited to get to know you and to get to work with you. But if you weren’t cast, it isn’t anything personal. (Well, unless you trash-talked to the wrong person in auditions. Then maybe it is.) Casting is a tough thing. We take the following into consideration: your look, your audition, your availability for rehearsals, your onstage compatibility with the other people we’re considering casting, your reputation among other theater people in the area, your resume, how well you took direction (if we gave any), our gut feelings about you, and about 53 other tangible and intangible things that go into casting a show. Again, like choosing a season, we don’t cast a show arbitrarily. We have to work with you for a few months. We also are dependent on the money we make on the shows to stay afloat; if the show bombs, we don’t make a lot of money, and we need that money because, let’s face it, theater’s not that lucrative. So if you don’t turn in a top-notch performance, it’s not the best thing for us. Let me reiterate – IT IS NOT PERSONAL. Don’t go around telling people my theater “hates” you. We don’t, but we’re going to start if you keep bad-mouthing us. One of the things we also take into consideration – how well you take rejection, if you’ve been rejected before, and if you came back to audition after being rejected by us in the past. We do take into consideration past auditions, if they were excellent. It is in your best interest to be CLASSY. 

So there you go, potential auditioners. Is it scary? You bet your ass it is. It’s putting yourself out there and getting up in front of people voluntarily and letting them judge you. However, let me tell you from experience, the high you get after having auditioned, whether or not it was ultimately successful, is something everyone should experience at least once in their life. You feel like you can tackle anything, seriously. And if you are cast? You’re in for the ride of your life. Yes, sure, I’m biased and theater-crazed, I’ll take that criticism gladly. But if you’ve ever thought of doing it – do it. And if it’s my theater, tell me hi. Just keep your crazy eyes and beaver shots to yourself, because I don’t want anything to do with those.

(Title is from a W.C. Fields quote, because I don't want anyone to be all "thief, thief." "Show me a great actor, and I'll show you a lousy husband. Show me a great actress, and I'll show you the devil." I will not comment on the veracity of this quote.)

The difference between a boss and a leader is that leader = synonymous for PANSY.

Since a lot of kids graduated from college in May, and it usually takes a few months for people to find a job in this constipated economy, quite a few fresh-faced twenty-somethings are entering the job market right…about….NOW. I thought this morning, hey! I have been in the job market for almost twenty years, and I have many, many helpful tips to pass on, gleaned from the behavior I have experienced, first-hand, at my many jobs over the years. And, as my repeat readers know, if there’s one thing I am, it’s super-helpful. (What’s that? You were going to say long-winded? And one of you in the back was going to say bitchy? Suck it, haters!) 

So! For the class of 2011, here. With my compliments.  

HOW TO BE A MEGA-HELPFUL PRODUCTIVE EMPLOYEE AT YOUR FIRST JOB AND MAKE SUCH A GOOD IMPRESSION THAT THEY WILL ALMOST IMMEDIATELY MOVE YOU UP TO SUPERVISOR, THEN BOSS, THEN GRAND MASTER OVERLORD POOBAH 

1.   Take whatever you want from wherever you want. It’s your right, you’re entitled to it, you need it, and dammit, you’re special! Didn’t your parents drum that into your head all while you were growing up? Example: you are stapling, and your stapler runs out of staples. You have a full box of staples in your desk, but filling a stapler, well, that’s for mooks and peons! Your co-worker across the way has a stapler! It is full of staples! TAKE IT. You deserve it! I mean, it’s not like he’s using it or will ever use it, right? Or, you need an envelope. And you’re out of them. But your co-worker has a bunch on top of her desk. Take one. Hell, take them all. She’ll get more! It’s obvious she has nothing better to do than to refill her envelope supply. She’s going nowhere fast, while you, my friend? You are on the FAST TRACK TO THE TOP. You can’t get there without using your grabby hands to your full advantage. 

2.   Take a lesson from toddlers: when you’re done with something, drop it like it’s hot and walk away.  Remember that stapler you borrowed above? You don’t have time to walk it two steps over to the desk you borrowed it from. You are a BUSY BEE. You have PLACES TO GO and TASKS TO COMPLETE. Drop that stapler wherever you stand and MOVE ON. You’re on the ladder to success, my friend! Keep a’climbin’! No time for tidying up when you’re on the ladder to the stars! You know what they call people that clean up, don’t you? MAINTENANCE STAFF. And you didn’t go to college to be Groundskeeper Willie, no sir, not you. So leave that stapler wherever. I suggest somewhere no one would ever look for it, say, behind the X’s in the file room, or on top of the refrigerator in the break room. Take the only pen from the sign-in desk and drop it behind the copier where it’s irretrievable, and forget it ever happened. Finish the paper towels? Don’t you dare refill the dispenser. Overflow the toilet? Too bad, losers. You’re really too busy to care, and there are shinier rings to reach for. 

3.   Repeat after me: “it is not my problem.” You loaded your assistant up with a metric ton of work at the end of the day and she told you weeks ago she has to leave on time for once today but you need it before she walks out the door? “It is not my problem.” You forgot to tell someone working on a team with you about a sensitive email you received and it reflected badly on them, but you came off looking smelling like a rose (and/or Axe body spray?) “It is not my problem.” Your secretary has laryngitis and can’t come to work today but you don’t have anyone else to answer your phones because you forgot to train anyone else? “Get in here. That is not my problem.” It’s a state of emergency and the radio’s telling people to get home because they’re going to start shutting down the roads due to the gigantic snowstorm outside and you have employees waiting for your go-ahead to leave? “Too bad, we have work that needs to be done today. It is not my problem.” Don’t you just feel more powerful even saying the phrase? More barrel-chested, manly/womanly, strong, virile, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? It’s a power phrase. It’s a mantra. I suggest saying it at least once a day, and making sure it’s said in a situation where tears are most likely to result, therefore tipping the scales even more in your favor. 

4.   Practice condescension and braggery wherever possible. Who cares if these two things make your co-workers shy away from you? You’re catching the eyes of the big boys. There’s no crying in baseball and there are no friendships on the way to the top of the heap. Really, there’s just you, and the garbage. You don’t want to be garbage, do you? WHO WANTS TO BE GARBAGE? Not you, that’s who. Then use one of these, or a combination of them, or something similar to them, adjusted for your particular situation, at least once a day: 

“I was at my vacation home on the lake the other day, thinking about taking my boat out for a spin, when my supermodel wife came up to me and told me no man had ever fulfilled her like I do. How was your weekend?” 

“I just spent your year’s salary on this tie. No, seriously. You won’t be getting paid this year. What’s good in the vending machine today? My, but those SunChips look tasty! But all I have is this $100. Do you have a dollar in quarters I could borrow?” 

“Your hair looks really…interesting today. Did you see that in a magazine? Was it Popular Mechanics? I get mine cut by a swami in Tibet. It costs $1,000 a snip but the results are, I think we can both agree, worth the price.” 

“Did I see you at Walmart this weekend? No, ha ha, I wasn’t at Walmart. I was driving by in my Cadillac, chuckling richly at the plebeians. I do that for kicks sometimes. You all look like little ants to me, up there in my Cadillac. Ants, shuffling around the parking lot. Zombie ants. Do you like my ring? It’s the Pope’s. I just had to have it, and when he realized who I was, he just handed it over. It was a wise choice.” 

5.   Eye contact - it’s not recommended. Don’t make it. It just makes your underlings think they “know” you, and that you’re “relatable.” And do you want that? Really? No. No, you don’t. Always look just over their head and to the left a little. Like you’re looking past them for someone that’s more interesting and important to talk to. Or like you’re looking into your future. If your backstory is that you’re looking into your future, smile a little, vaguely. Because your future is bright. Really, really bright. And they need to know that, so they’ll be properly jealous. 

6.   Don’t return phone calls or tell people where you’ll be. This is an important one. If you return phone calls or tell people where you are, it implies you are not busy. And everyone knows, the most successful people in the business world are those you are unable to reach or make an appointment with. So leave at 10am on a Tuesday. Don’t tell your secretary where you’re going. Drift back in around 3pm, and when you see you have a number of voice mail messages, just ignore them. When your secretary tells you the callers are calling back, irate there’s no callback, just smile and nod and say you’re unavailable. Eventually, the callers will start yelling at the secretary, because callers always assume it’s the secretary’s fault they’re not getting through. That’s what you want. You’ve got your clients in the palm of your hand, now. Wait a few days, and THEN call them back. They’re going to feel special. Like they are the only one in the universe, because you, very special, busy you, took the time to call them back. You made them feel like a special snowflake. Congratulations! (Note: This is exhausting work, which will require that you take more time off to relax.) 

7.   Take away happiness. The time for happiness is not in the office. Do your employees enjoy chatting? Separate them. Do you employees enjoy surfing the net? Take away their internet access. Do you your employees enjoy making personal calls? Take away phone privileges. Do your employees enjoy having a cigarette? Turn your entire office area, inside and out, into a smoke free zone. If they complain, ask them if they enjoy their paychecks. They should say yes. If not, well, there’s the door. We don’t need whiners here. Only winners. (See what I did there? Wordplay. It’s what winners do.) 

8.   What to do when an employee asks for a raise. This is a touchy subject, so I’ll break it down for you. The employee will come to you for a raise with some sob story about “cost of living increases” or “medical bills” or “mother with dementia” or “inability to buy groceries.” Pretend to listen; what they’re saying really isn’t important. What they’re doing is begging. And what do we do with beggars? We don’t give in. That’s like negotiating with terrorists. First, tell the employee everything they’ve done wrong over the past year. Even if it’s not true. Keep it vague: some employees fancy themselves investigators and will ferret out the source of the complaints like little gumshoes. Say things like “there have been complaints about your work ethic…” and trail off. Vague, and sort of worrisome. Look stern. Say “I think we both agree you could be giving a little more.” This is vague enough to cover a lot of ground. Once you’ve made up some things about the filthy beggar, tell them, in your best “I really empathize with your plight” voice (you might want to practice this in front of the mirror first, as there’s no way you can empathize with a poor person so you run the risk of coming off like a robot who just learned human speech) say “I’m sorry we’re not able to increase your pay at this time, but let’s revisit this conversation sometime in the near future. You’re a valuable asset to our team, Tammy.” (Note: please don’t quote this verbatim unless the employee’s name is really Tammy. For some reason, it really irks underlings when you can't remember their names.) The employee, now disheartened and possibly starving to death, will wander back to their cubicle, and you are free! To celebrate, ask Tammy to book you lunch at the most expensive restaurant in town, and when you get back, make sure she types up your expense report. She’ll really appreciate seeing how much a winner spends on lunch, and it will give her something to aspire to. 

9.   Remember: shit rolls downhill for a reason. This is a saying I like to tell young people just starting out. Shit rolls downhill. It is a metaphor. Well, unless you really didn’t report that stopped-up bathroom and your restrooms are uphill from your office. But that’s not your problem, winner! Which, anyway, is why you want to be uphill. Also, make sure to treat those below you poorly, and they will pass it down and down and down and DOWN until it all rests on the shoulders of the lowest man or woman on the totem pole – and that person deserves it, because that person just DID NOT TRY HARD ENOUGH AND IS A TOTAL LOSER. No room for less than shining stars here! 

This is not an all-inclusive list, but it’s enough to get you started. You’re on your way to the top, baby! Nothing’s going to stop you! And once you’re King Shit of Turd Mountain and lord of all you survey, look around. Isn’t the view from the top nice? Isn’t it nice to be king? Fancy? Yes. Yes, it is. You are so welcome. Remember, it all starts with you – don’t be afraid of success. And you can’t spell success without SUCK. Well, minus the K. But it’s not funny that way.

Dear Lucy, Volume One. SHUT UP I AM VERY HELPFUL.

Today I woke up and bounded out of bed with a smile on my face. “Hello, world!” I chirped, like a happy bluebird. “Here I am! Today is the day I make a difference! Today is the day I help people! Today is MY DAY!”

Then my alarm went off and I realized that was all a dream, I only got a few hours of sleep last night, I feel like shit warmed twice over, and the only chipper thing about me is the daydream I’m having about putting every single person I encounter into a wood chipper.

That will not stop me, however! Today I WILL make a difference. Listen, there are a lot of people out there that need advice. A lot of them. I mean, you type “advice” into Google and you get a ton of stuff. For example, if you type “Yahoo answers” into Google, do you know what the first thing that comes up in the auto-fill is? I bet you don’t! Because I didn’t! There is no way you can prepare yourself for this!

“I killed someone.”

Yes. Someone (or a number of people, because I assume that it is a popular question, otherwise why would it be the first thing that pops up?) went on Yahoo Answers to ask what to do POST-MURDER. Um. You are aware that the cops can track you, right, Killer?

OK, well, I’m not going to help with things like that. Because honestly, I have no idea what to do post-murder. I mean, I talk a big game, and believe me, there are people in my life that if they stopped coming around, they would NOT be missed. But I’m really not a go-to person when it comes to advice in covering up a capital crime. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I feel like I would immediately be discovered. I can’t even hide my emotions when I hate someone – so obviously an entire dead body is going to be a little more difficult than that to hide. So no, Murder Person, sorry, not your place for advice today, sorry.

What do you need, when you are about to start your very fabulous career as the next Dear Abby, only you are going to, of course, be Dear Lucy? Questions! You need questions! So of course, first, I went to Twitter. And Twitter…was not helpful. I got four questions. FOUR! This could be due to the fact that I phrased my request as “I would like to give you advice. It will not be good advice. So send me questions.” One person, who I don’t even know, said if she wanted bad advice, she’d ask her ex. Yes, sure, you COULD do that, complete and total stranger, but would your ex snark at you in a lovingly helpful and hysterical way? I THINK NOT, PERSON I DON’T KNOW. I THINK NOT. Your loss, stranger I will never talk to again.

So next, I went to my partner-in-crime, my internet BFF, the love of my life. Google. And realized there are a WEALTH of questions that need answering on Google. So there you go! I am set up. My empire! It will be a vast one, filled with MANY HELPFUL ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS.

Without further ado:

Dear Lucy

(A Very Helpful and Not-at-All-Snarky Advice Column)

Q:        What is the difference between a smile and a frown? –JENNIEO

A:        Well! An auspicious beginning, to be sure, Jennieo! First, let me extend my sympathies for your disability. It must be so difficult to be blind. I do so hope you have a dog. Because if you are blind, one of the few perks must be a helper animal, right? But not a monkey. You don’t have a monkey, right? Because it will eat your face. Just to let you know. I mean, maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually it will completely eat your face. We covered this yesterday. Read yesterday’s blog for more info on face-eating monkeys. Wait, how are you reading this and writing questions if you are blind? Is there Braille internet? Or internet with voice technology, or something? There must be. I never thought of that. Isn’t learning fun? What’s that? You’re not blind? Then I don’t understand the question and you’re an idiot. One is right-side-up and means someone either likes you or is pretending to; one is upside-down and means someone hates you or has gas. NEXT QUESTION.

Q:        Can man creation make a mistake? –QUIRFGW

A:        Hello, Quir…I’m going to call you Q, won’t that be easier? Yes. I wish I had an answer for you, Q. I truly do. But to be honest? I don’t 100% understand what you’re asking me. Is this an existential question, like, “If we’re made in God’s image, and God is perfection, how can we make mistakes?” Or is it about something like Frankenstein’s monster, and it’s about MAN’S creation, in which case, of COURSE our creations can make mistakes, I mean, we created fashion and there are missteps LEFT and RIGHT all over there, you know, like rompers. Or are you asking if a mistake was made in the creation of man, and whoever, or whatever created us meant to create something else, like many-legged pink insects with ears for eyes, something along those lines? You’ve exhausted me with the possibilities, Q. Utterly exhausted me. I need a cooling beverage and a backrub. Except I hate backrubs more than anything in the world. One time, a woman gave me an unexpected backrub, and it tensed me up for a week, I hate them so much. DON’T TOUCH ME, Q.

Q:        How do you know if you have Tainted Love? –SOFT CELL

A:        This question could go in one of two ways, really, Soft Cell. If you’re asking if you have the totally bitchin’ song from 1981, I’d say listen for the line “once I ran from you, now I run to you.” That would be a good indication. Also, listen for synthesizers. They’re always a good indicator of 80’s music. I mean, from your name, and from the capitalization of your question, I would say that’s probably what you’re asking? But if you’re asking if your actual romance has been sullied, I’d start looking for tell-tale signs. Lipstick on the collar. Cell phone calls in the middle of the night. Cold sores. Crabs. Things of that nature.

Q:        Why are guys so complicated? –SAD IN MINNESOTA

A:        Aw. Aw, you. Well! That’s really the age-old question, isn’t it? Here. I’m going to do you two favors. First! MOVE OUT OF MINNESOTA. It’s COLD there! DAMN! You’re welcome. NOW! Second. If you don’t like complicated guys, look for stupid ones. They’re not that hard to spot. They usually hang out in places like county fairs and sports bars and Spencer’s Gifts, and they laugh really hard at jokes like “Git R Done” and “I Don’t Trust Anything that Bleeds for 5 Days and Doesn’t Die.” Then date that guy. Complicated? Not him! Easy as pie! Things will be smooth sailing for you, Sad! Problem solved, right? No, no, I don’t ask anything in return for your lifelong happiness. You don’t even have to invite me to the wedding! Really. Really, please don’t.

Q:        How do you get a guy to like you? –ALEX FORREST

            Well, Alex, a good question indeed! To “get” a guy to like you, you need a few things, ready? 1. Duct tape 2. Edible panties 3. One of those green plastic eye-shades that old-time accountants wear 4. A rotary-dial telephone 5. Three different colors of water-soluble food coloring. You wrote that down, didn’t you. Seriously, Alex? Sigh. OK, here’s the scoop. If you need to “get” a guy to like you, it’s not worth it. I’ve been around a while. If he doesn’t like you right off, he’s not going to start. Trust me. You can stalk him, you can write him tortured poetry, you can buy him things, you can attempt to seduce him in every way you know how, but it’s not going to work because he’s not interested. Not that I’ve done any of those things. Ha. I mean, who would do those things? Crazy people, that’s who. Ahem. Anyway. Just be patient, Alex. I know it’s tough, but someday, someone will like you, and you won’t have to “get” them to. Heads up, though, you certainly don’t boil his bunny or show up randomly in his house or take his kid! Shit. I just realized where I recognized your name from.

Q:        What should I wear to my boyfriend’s family party? – MEET THE

            PARENTS

A:        Clothes. But not hookery ones. Unless his family is into that. I don’t know. Are they WASP-y? Then probably try to fit into that paradigm. If they’re trashy, showing up in couture is probably going to make them think you feel like you’re “better than them” and they might beat you up behind the dumpster that they use for their barbeque pit/family swimming pool. Maybe just wear khakis and a decent shirt of some sort without a stain on the left boob and hope like hell they’re not nudists.

Q:        I just found out that my brother has done heroine twice? – BIG SIS

A:        Holy crap, seriously? WHICH ONE? Wonder Woman? Catwoman? Harley Quinn? Vixen? Supergirl? Mystique? Are they going steady? Will she be coming over to your house? You might become BFF’s. She might become your SISTER-IN-LAW. How awesome would THAT be? He’d better not cheat on her, though. Because if he does, I think the retribution might be swift and pretty bloody. THIS IS TOTALLY AMAZING, Big Sis. My congratulations. I couldn’t be more excited for you! Oh, you probably want advice. I’d say, play it cool, and tell your brother to eat plenty of lean protein, as she probably has a lot of stamina and he’ll want to keep up. And have fun! What an exciting time for you and your brother!

Q:        How can I convince my future mother-in-law not to come to my bachelorette party? – BRIDE TO BE

A:        Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, BTB! I guess I have a question for you. I know, I know. You’re asking ME for advice. Sorry. I have to ask. Is this a thing? Mother-in-laws coming to bachelorette parties? Because isn’t it for your friends and such? How awkward would it be if you were making out with a male stripper while you’re wearing a light-up penis hat and a pin that says “MY LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM” and your future mom-in-law was watching? Totally awkward, is how. Are you sure she even wants to come? If so, I’d say, a few minutes before she’s supposed to leave for the party, send a male escort over to her house to “fix her pipes” or “deliver her a pizza” or whatever it is the cover story is they use in porno. And then she won’t come because she’ll be too busy “having sex with a prostitute.” There you go!

Q:        Two of my BM’s can’t get along. Advice, please? – SOON-TO-BE-

            MRS

A:        I’m sorry. I’ve had the giggles since I read this, because I wasn’t aware that bridesmaids was abbreviated “BM”? And in my world, in which a toddler is a major part, bowel movement is abbreviated that way? And I couldn’t understand why two of your bowel movements couldn’t get along and it was really an icky but funny mental picture, to tell you the truth? OK. Let’s get it together, here. I am a very serious advice columnist, after all. Someone I know had this issue, and the bride was a total Bridezilla and fired the one I liked. So is that the problem, STBM? Are you a Bridezilla? Are you always yelling at people and smacking your groom about the face and neck and such? Maybe you need to check yourself before you wreckedy-wreck yourself?

Q:        How do I make the voice in my head stop singing the “Alvin & the Chipmunks” theme song? –CRAZY MAKING

A:        This IS a tough one. Well, I think there are two ways you can do this. One, replace it with a different earworm – I recommend Tainted Love, which has been running NON-STOP in my head since I answered that question above, THANKS A LOT, Soft Cell, sheesh – or, two, do a lot of drugs and/or alcohol, which should cause you to black out (no songs in your head when you’re dead to the world!) and then wake up with a raging hangover (again, no room for songs when you’ve got a headache like a drum in there!) Or, I suppose, you could do a type of immersion therapy, and force yourself to watch the Alvin and the Chipmunks movies. But I really wouldn’t recommend that. (Side note - were you aware that my super-hot secret boyfriend, Matthew Grey Gubler, plays one of those chipmunks? Distressing!)

Q:        How do you deal with a legion of friends who play “Vampire the Masquerade” and it just creeps you out?!?!?! –GAMERGRRL

A:        I didn’t know what this was, so I looked it up because listen, anything for you people. And although the Wikipedia article was kind of confusing and had a lot of words in it I didn’t quite understand, I gather that this is an RPG. Now, is it an RPG like I remember D&D being when I was a kid and the boys wouldn’t let me play and I really wanted to and they would roll dice and it looked fun because those dice had so many awesome sides and you got to make things up and also there was an episode of Community that made D&D seem awesome as long as you play it with the right people? Or is it a scary RPG where the people walk around in costume and pretend to be the characters and it’s hard to tell where reality ends and their weirdness begins and they have crazy eyes? My advice, GamerGrrl, is if it creeps you out, bring along a stake or some garlic or a cross, and when they’re getting too douchey, wield them at your friends and tell them to stay back. They will have to, right? Because they’re “vampires”? And then you can go off and do something productive like read or watch True Blood or whatever you like to do.

Q:        How do you face fears... like... say... fear of dolls or stupid Disney creatures? –SCARRED4LIFE

A:        Honestly, I HAVE NO IDEA. This QUESTION is horrifying to me. Why would you WANT to face these fears? Because dolls and characters in suits WILL STEAL YOUR SOUL. Don’t face them! RUN FAR FAR AWAY. And then wherever you end up, line your windowsills and doors with salt like they do on Supernatural because that keeps out the baddies. Dolls and furries. Good gracious, Scarred4Life! I’m not even going to be able to sleep tonight now. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY.

Q:        How do you deal with overly fake people? Because you know my answer is gasoline and blowtorch. –KICKASS MCGEE

A:        Let me tell you a story, Kickass. Once, I came across an overly fake person. But I knew that person was being fake, because I’d heard from a mutual friend that the fake person hated me, and was saying shit behind my back. But whenever the fake person would see me, the fake person would be all, “Oh! How ARE you! So nice to SEE you! Blah blah BLAH blah! Fakety fake fake fake!” And I wanted to throw up in my mouth a little. So what I did was sit the fake person down and say, “Listen, fake person, how can we work out our differences to a mutually pleasing solution?” and we talked, and laughed, and I think we both left a little richer in knowing one another that day. Oh, wait, that didn’t happen. Really, what happened is I refused to talk to the fake person and would always be scowling when they came around and made it so uncomfortable for the fake person to be around me that the fake person, to this day, won’t come to places where I will be, and tells people that they think I might be “unhinged.” Well, Fake McFake Fake, take a look in your mirror of fakeness, and see which one of us is missing hinges, why don’t you? Oh. This is kind of becoming about me, isn’t it. I suppose the adult way to deal with them is just to smile and nod and limit your exposure to them as much as possible and try to put yourself in their shoes? But the CORRECT way to deal with it is your way. But once you’ve killed them, don’t come to me for body-disposal advice. I seriously just don’t know what to do. Maybe bury it? Somewhere that’s not here? I don’t know.

Well! This has been very productive AND helpful! If you would like your questions answered in a future edition of Dear Lucy, don’t hesitate to send me an email. Unless your question is stupid. Or if it’s serious. Or time-sensitive. OK, I really have a lot of disclaimers on this. I AM A VERY GOOD ADVICE COLMNIST DAMMIT.