I suppose, when you get right down to it, mine is not a dilemma of the upmost importance, but the subject is really beginning to strain some of my friendships. The issue? Abortion. And the death penalty. Two things, different in circumstance, brought together by girls who don’t understand what they’re talking about.

I loathe the death penalty; I hate it with every fiber of my being, for reasons generally too muddled and long-winded for most to comprehend. On the other hand, I fully respect a woman’s right to abort a pregnancy if she so wishes. Now, between most of my better friends, the opinion is shared, but such is not the case between me and my friends, C and D. I’ve never tried to force my opinions upon others, but I like to let them be known, because my reasons are not common ones. C and D, however, don’t want to hear it.

“How can you support one form of murder and not the other?” they ask me whenever the issue is brought up (considering that a few of my friends are fairly promiscuous, this is often a topic of discussion). Frankly, I find this rather appalling, that they should try to turn me into a hypocrite, but this is beside the point. The point is, I’ve heard this so often, I’m beginning to doubt myself.

I don’t consider abortion murder, because I don’t think a fetus is truly alive until the final days, maybe the last week, before the actual birth. I don’t consider any deaths brought upon by the death penalty to be murder, either; I’m not, as of yet, certain of what it is, but murder it ain’t. C and D agree with me in my disgust of execution, react in shock and horror at my pro-choice stance, and proceed to discredit any of my views as to why I believe in abortion.

As I stated earlier, I’m not demanding that C and D conform to my ideas; our ages, after all, only range from young 16 to old 17, and there’s a great chance that none of us know any of the circumstances behind abortion or the death penalty. I recognize that C and D have the right to express their beliefs, and their anger, but as they berate me for mine, I can’t help but feel somewhat abused. So, my question to you is, at what point can I finally feel free to let loose with a “Back off, dick much!”?

Signed,
Yay Murder?

I became best friends with a guy named “Scott.” Scott and I met when we were ten. Over the course of six years, we continued our close friendship. I moved to another city, we both went through various relationships, but we still managed to remain close through hours of phone time.

About the time my junior year rolled around, he met a girl named “Charity.” Charity went to my school and worked with Scott. Charity and I didn’t really know each other, but I attempted to become open and friendly with her after the two started a relationship. Soon after this relationship began, my friendship with Scott deteriorated dramatically. The proverbial “straw” that ended our friendship came during the prom that year. Scott and I had agreed to go together to our junior prom, regardless of who we were in a relationship with at that time. I had already told my boyfriend, who understood completely. Charity, however, did not, and we ended up “compromising.” Charity, Scott, my boyfriend, and I would all go together. That pretty much ended up being a disaster from the start, and I never saw Scott again after that, except for the obvious avoidance and dirty looks Charity gave to me when I saw them at the senior prom.

Over the years since, I’ve realized that I was a major bitch to Scott. He had romantic feelings for me over the course of our friendship, and I would give him false hope when I didn’t have a boyfriend handy. I hated Charity for no particular reason, and basically stated that I thought she was a stuck-up bitch, when in turn I was the one who was the stuck-up bitch. When I take those moments out, I still find that we had a wonderful friendship and that I still miss it to this day.

Five years later, I think about Scott and whether he’s trying to accomplish his dream of being a race car driver, or how his life is going. Charity and Scott married, and I know they have a little girl, but that’s about all the information I’ve got. I’m also married with three “children” (spoiled cats), and my wonderful husband has encouraged me to get in touch with Scott. However, I’m really scared what will happen. I’m willing to take whatever happens and move on. I’ve thought about sending a letter (I don’t know their address) just to find out what’s going on in their lives.

So here’s my ultimate question(s): Should I try to contact Scott and Charity? If so, how should I go about it, and where could I find out how to reach them (their phone number is not listed)? Should I attempt to apologize for being such a bitch to him at times, or just be friendly?

This has pulled at me for years, and I need an outside opinion.

Sincerely,
“Vada” Missing Her “Thomas”

I’m on the internet a lot, talking to friends, doing my online diary
thing (which I keep private, it’s not one that people can just read),
reading, and looking up things. Anyway, I frequent a message board
that’s usually very nice to be on because most of the people are easy to
get along with and it’s always good for a nice intelligent conversation.
Recently, though, I’ve began getting “Private Messages” from a certain
member containing very sexually explicit insults, he follows me online
and has even tried to Instant-Message me and email me. After asking him
numerous times to stop he won’t and it’s getting a lot worse.

He has
somehow found out things about me that I have never told him, due to
that fact that I didn’t even know him before he started private
messaging me, things like both my first and last name and my other email
addresses, I have about five of them and he seems to know them all, he has
also started bothering a few of the friends that I have online. It’s out
of hand and it’s only getting worse, I’ve asked the moderators on the
board to please do something about it but they can’t because he only
does it on the private message part of the board and not on the public
part, and even if I stop going there I know that he’ll find another way
to get in contact with me.

Do you have any advice on this? I could really use some because I’m very
concerned and I don’t know what to do. I have never told him anything
about myself, nor do I give anyone else personal information like that,
but yet he is finding things out and he won’t leave me alone. I used to
love being online but lately I haven’t enjoyed it as much because he’s
always here in some way. I’ve tried blocking him by email but he gets a
new account and emails me through it, he does the same with IM. If you have any advice, I’d love to read it.

Thanks,
Cyber-stalked

I’ve never written to an advice columnist before, on account of I never
could find the right one — I never seemed to have the serious issues that
Dear Abby, Ann Landers, and the like covered. Thankfully I found TN and your
advice columns, which touch on everything from relationships to cats.

My problem is a relationship problem, but it doesn’t deal with abuse or
cheating or in-laws. It deals with a magazine: specifically Rolling Stone.

I subscribe to Rolling Stone. I know, I know, it’s not as good as it once
was. And the odd thing is, I don’t even like music that much — not enough to
justify subscribing to a music magazine. I probably buy three CDs annually,
I don’t have cable so I can’t watch MTV or VH1, I rarely listen to the radio
that often anymore, and I have a list of my favorite artists that has
probably remained constant for the past five years. While my friends are
listening to new (or at least new to them) music or attending several
concerts a year, I wear my ten favorite CDs down to little CD nubs. But I
enjoy receiving RS. I skip the political articles, but read or skim
everything else. I recently renewed my subscription for a second year; I’m
happy with the magazine overall, even though I really have no plans of
buying anything reviewed in any of its issues.

The problem comes in with my new boyfriend. We’ve been dating for about two
months. It’s my first serious relationship and his third. He’s a huge music
fan, especially of classic rock. He plays the guitar and occasionally plays
with his friends in their very casual “band.” While I have thirty CDs and
access to my parents’ record collection, he has amassed about 300 CDs,
cassettes, and records. He listens to music constantly — our first big date
was to a blues concert. He also subscribes to RS, something I learned when
I went to his house and saw the issue listing the top 500 albums of all time
lying on his coffee table. I had received the same issue that morning and
had already flipped through it, but I asked to see his issue and made
comments about it as if I had never seen it.

He doesn’t know I subscribe to the magazine; he would think that I wasn’t a
big enough music fan to. We were chatting on the phone once and RS came
up. I asked him what kind of things RS wrote about (something I obviously
already knew) and what he thought of it. Now I’m afraid that he’s going to
find out that I subscribe to it, if he hasn’t found out already. He was over
at my home the other day. I walked out of the room to grab something, leaving
him alone in my living room. When I came back, he was admiring the
decor, and I noticed that someone had carelessly tossed the mail on a
chair right next to him. On top of the mail stack was of course RS. He
would have to have been blind not to see it; Justin Timberlake’s giant face
loomed up from the cover. If he had looked closer, he would have seen that
my name was on the address label.

He didn’t mention anything about the magazine, but I could have died then
and there. I feel as if I’m keeping something from him, even though I
haven’t technically lied to him. But I’m afraid that he’ll find out I
subscribe, especially since some of our mutual friends know I get the
magazine. In fact, RS came up in discussion today while some of our
friends and us were eating lunch. He mentioned that he had saved the Britney
Spears cover, and not only did I know immediately what cover he was talking
about, but I have saved all of my issues.

If he finds out that I get the magazine I’ve considered telling him that
it’s a trial subscription offered through my parents’ credit card — somewhat
true because my mom’s received magazines in the past through her card. Or I
might tell the truth: that I bought it from my brother’s magazine drive,
although I would fudge the date of when I first began receiving them a bit.

But before I do any of this, and before this not-quite-a-lie goes any
further, I really need some advice.

Thank you,
Confused in Chicago

Last week, I decided to go down to my former local
watering hole. I chatted with the bartender, talked
to the only other woman in the place and instantly
bonded with her, and, after she left, played the
little trivia game machine up on the bar. Did I
mention that I was putting away a few Pabst? Well, I
was. Suddenly, I noticed that a cute, cute boy was
sitting next to me. We start talking. And talking.
And drinking and then talking some more. He’s a
writer. Likes the Replacements. Has a kick-ass
Southern accent. We walked up to get more cigarettes.
He offered me his arm as we were walking along, which
totally made me swoon. We were flirting and getting
along like a house afire.

Soon, owing to
early-morning commitments, we both had to go. I gave
him my number. He gave me his work email address.
Maybe that seems weird, but some folks are leery of
giving out their number. He gave me a very sweet kiss
goodbye, jumped into his Subaru, and roared off into
the night. Sigh.

So, on Saturday, I emailed him, knowing that he works
Monday-Friday, 9 to 5, and that he wouldn’t get the
email until Monday. It’s Wednesday. No response. He
hasn’t called me or emailed me back. I really like
this guy. He’s pretty much my ideal man. From the
signals he gave me, I thought he liked me too. Should
I just let this go? Or shoot him another email? God,
I feel like I’m 16 years old again, not a 30-year-old
divorced mom of two. Meh. Sars, please give me some of
your sage advice on how to handle this and not come
off like some sort of stalker.

Thanks,
He likes me, he likes me not…