Tuesday, October 11, 2005

If you want my opinion...

I'm the girl to whom everyone comes for advice. Friends, relatives, colleagues, strangers... Everybody wants my opinion: "Does this need more garlic?" "Do I need weatherproof paint?" "Should I leave my husband?" "Does this mole look like cancer?"

I don't know why they do this. Maybe I have an honest face, or my glasses create the impression that I'm learned and wise - what my father calls an "optical illusion."

Lately I've been corresponding with a guy in another state who reads my blog. At first he said he'd gotten in touch with me because he'd seen a few of my posts about shyness and my chronic verbal paralysis and/or spastic flailing around some persons of the male persuasion. He told me, "I read those essays about the lunch place guy and I thought, Great! Another 30-year-old just like me who also has no idea how to talk to members of the opposite sex." (You know, I didn't think much about that remark at the time, but now I have to say it isn't exactly true. I know how to talk to them, I just avoid it sometimes because it makes me very uncomfortable. And it's not specific to men, it's all humans, plus some of the larger-breed dogs.)

The funny thing is that within a few days this guy shifted from relating to me as a socially dysfunctional kindred spirit to mining this wisdom he's projected onto me for advice on his love life -- specifically a budding relationship with a woman in his town. I was amused and flattered by his confidence in me, and began to dispense tips that seemed to make sense. Nothing too profound, just "You don't have to wait four days to call," or "Take her to dinner next time, it's enough with the sports already." At first I held my breath waiting for his social life to implode, but so far it seems to be going pretty well.

Of course, this guy seeks fairly basic guidance. But what of the others? When solicited for counsel I always have something to say, but what if I say the wrong thing? I don't know from painting a shed. Who am I to say if your marriage is doomed? Do I look like a dermatologist to you?

I want to be able to help these people. All of them, from the hypochondriac in my aerobics class to the drag queen at my bus stop who asks how I make my lashes look so feathery and long. So I'm thinking maybe I should start my own advice column to get some practice, hone my skills. Kind of a Dear-Abby-meets-Carolyn-Hax type deal. Come tell mama your problems; she'll make you feel better, even if the advice she pulls out of her ass ultimately ruins your life.

It'll take some time to iron out the details. For now I'm working on the look and feel. I'll need a headshot that portrays me as accessible but strong, maybe in the middle of a hearty laugh, or gazing off with my chin in my palm. And I'm playing with a few titles that'll capture the essence of the column -- let me know what you think: "Write On," sort of an affirmative high-five approach; "Always Something," which feels warm and commiserative; or -- actually I think this one really speaks to those who'd trust me with their major life decisions -- "Hey, It's Your Funeral."

9 comments:

Heather B. said...

If you want my opinion, I think it would be a good idea and damn entertaining.

P.S. also delurking to say that you already are pretty entertaining.

I-66 said...

lurking.. admission is the first step to recovery, Heather. You can do it!

I thought I could suggest clever title ideas but I'm not feeling particularly creative.

Paulo said...

Paulo loves you.

~Paulo

Kayla said...

Since I run into your office a couple times a week (at least) seeking advice, I would say that you give great (and amusing) advice. Or, you comiserate well :). ha ha ha.

Does this mean you are giving the eulogy at my funeral ;)???

always write said...

Mmm... No, it means my half-assed advice may be what landed you in the coffin. (Figuratively speaking.)

Paulo said...

I imagine you sitting, sobbing on your couch, like Amélie, and the narrator says, "Godmother of Outcasts, Madonna of the Unloved, finally succumbed to exhaustion."

~Paulo

Kayla said...

Paulo, I love you. Or maybe I just love John Oates.

Merujo said...

But you'd be better than Carolyn Hax! I got into a... "debate"... with Carolyn the very first week she had her job at the Post, via an online Washington Post chat. I took her to task for something she wrote (she was really, really inexperienced at this point, obviously) and it got ugly.

I used to work a block from the Post, and I saw her a couple of times on the street. I thought of going up and asking her if she remembered the nasty online fight at the beginning of her advice career, but decided it wasn't worth it.

Eric the Something said...

Funny thing is that I started mine before I read this far back in your posts. Let me know if you get yours going and I'll link you fom mine!