Hi. A friend tuned me into your site — awesome, if I may say so — after she got some great advice from you, and I was hoping you could do the same for me.

See, I’m a virgin. Normally, that would not be a problem, but I’m 21. Still, not a problem — at least, not a huge one. No, the problem…okay, problems are that:

1) While in high school (I think you know where this is going) I lied to everyone and told them I’d had sex because everyone else was doing it and, while I wasn’t too interested in the practice of 15-year-old unsafe sex, I wanted to seem like I was. And now my best friend since first-and-a-half grade is still believing that’s true. I have no idea how to tell her I’ve been making up people to have imaginary sex with, and having non-mutual friends pretend to be that person.

2) Is there something wrong with me? I’ve never had a boyfriend, the only guys I’ve kissed have been drunken dares, and I don’t really see myself with a guy…except in those almost-asleep fantasies where Mr. Right takes me away from it all. I don’t see myself with a girl, either, I just don’t really have strong feelings either way. I get myself off once in a while, but I don’t really get crushes or want to date. Could I be asexual?

Thanks,
If only I could get obedience down, I could be a nun

Dear Sister,

You could be asexual…or you could just not really get how this kind of thing works, how it’s supposed to feel, because you have no experience with it yet. There isn’t anything “wrong with” you, but you might benefit from some therapy, to get at why sex is important enough to you socially to lie about it, but not really of interest to you otherwise. Something’s going on there.

Everyone’s got a little neurotic weirdness going on surrounding sex; it doesn’t make you a freak. But in order not to get tangled up in that weirdness, you may want to talk to a therapist.

As for your friend, I’d just tell her the truth…which, I’m afraid, she already knows. When people who haven’t had sex lie about it, it’s…usually pretty obvious.

Wonderful Sars,

It may not seem terribly important, but I have a question! You seem to have
a good sense of etiquette, so I’m addressing this wedding-related question
to you.

I am going to be attending the first wedding I’ve gone to since I was a
freshman in high school, and I’m a little unsure on dress code. This is
going to be an outdoor, summer wedding. I understand I’m not supposed to
wear white — does this mean I can’t wear a white blouse with an otherwise
colored skirt? What about black, are there any rules about it?

I hope you don’t think me an idiot for asking the next part, but keep in
mind I’m kind of a hick. Is it all right to wear what I consider to be a
bustier (like, er, this). I guess some might consider it too much like a tube top,
which is apparently really trashy (I’ve never worn one)? If that’s
inappropriate, would a satin halter top also be inappropriate? The wedding
is being held at a community center, not a place of worship, and where I
live it will likely be between 93-103 degrees during the ceremony, but I
don’t know if that affects the rules.

Thanks for listening to a hick from the sticks,
The Anti-Fashionista

Dear Anti,

I grew up with the following wedding-attire rules drilled into me: 1) no white, no black, no red, no how; 2) if the wedding takes place in the evening, black tie is implied…and required. Nobody cares about the second one anymore (if it was ever true).

And nobody’s looking at anyone who isn’t in the wedding party anyway; nobody cares. I still wouldn’t wear white, black, or red, white because that’s the bride’s gig, black because it isn’t a funeral or a work function, and red because…it’s red. But for a summer wedding, I think the bustier is fine — just pair it with a below-the-knee skirt, and bring a wrap in case everyone else is in more buttoned-up attire.

But really, as long as you make an effort to dress up and don’t show too much skin, whatever you go with is fine; just don’t let the outfit wear you, and go easy as far as cleavage, really tall heels, 14-inch minis, and so on. The idea is to look appropriate, but not too attention-getting.

Dear Sars,

Sorry this is so long. Long-time reader though. I’m a 28-year-old woman and have always snorted at the thought of writing in for any kind of personal help, but here I am anyway. How the mighty have fallen.

As always, there’s this guy. Let’s call him Max. Met him online almost five years ago; a few months later we got together and were in a committed relationship, albeit generally a long-distance one. He’s four years younger than I am, and almost the whole time we’ve been together, he’s been in college, though living at home as his college was only a short drive from home and he was on a scholarship/grant thingy.

While it wasn’t always smooth sailing, especially in the beginning — I often felt that I was trying harder than Max was — after about a year, it seemed that we had “weathered the storm” and things were moving along fine. About two years into the relationship, he grew increasingly irritable, told me that I was clingy, and asked that we go on a “break,” meanly citing some interest in some other girl. Being a “sophisticated” urban woman and a closet Friends viewer, I was reluctant, but didn’t have the balls to tell him to shove it.

He did mean a great deal to me even then; you wouldn’t be far wrong to say that he brought a great deal of meaning into my life, sad as that sounds. It didn’t help that I hated my job then. Anyway, while emotionally wrecked, along came another guy — let’s call him George — who knew Max slightly. George picked up the pieces for me, in a sense restored some of my self-esteem — the loss that often comes with being unceremoniously dumped. Long story short, when Max found out about us, he was angry, then claimed that he had never called for a break. I grew a pair and let him have it, pretty much telling him that here was the freedom he had asked for. Max was extremely remorseful, pleaded for me to come back, explaining that he didn’t know how some of the things he had said prior to the break had really hurt me (personal comments). Over a weekend, he also explained a great deal about his messed-up childhood and adolescence (very). Basically, I didn’t know who I cared more for, and lived a kind of double-life for a while. George, who knew nothing about mine and Max’s “reunion,” deselected himself out of the whole mess and left me. So Max never knew that I had not “chosen” him. This all took place under two months.

Over the course of three years, I grew more confident and comfortable, both with myself and with our relationship. I got a job I mostly enjoyed, spent more time with friends both old and new, and truly, honestly believed I was a great deal less clingy, less possessive of his time. Occasionally, especially during his holidays, I wondered why he prioritised his friends over me, as I work a regular, mentally challenging job and weekends are my only free time. But on the whole, I wasn’t unhappy, and grew used to some kind of routine. He sometimes forgot birthdays and anniversaries, but I didn’t place too much importance on those; I was trying so hard not to be THAT girlfriend.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Near the end of 2004, still with Max, and quite happy, most of the time, though we were still long-distance because of my work. I was more than willing to move, and told him so, but he was noncommittal, to say the least. He graduated from college summer 2004, and has yet to even apply for a job. I remember the same aimlessness and lethargy after my own college graduation — I had spent a month in Australia, and did “fun” jobs for about four months after my return — and so I was indulgent.

I wasn’t at Max’s grandmother’s funeral where he met this girl (heh, talk about morbid) upon whom he quickly developed a crush. It was short-lived, but he told me everything he felt, and didn’t seem to realise how much it hurt me. Fast forward to 2005. About a month ago, Max started telling me about some 22-year-old girl he had met in an online game, who had attracted his attention. It seemed harmless and we laughed about it, but it rapidly escalated into a full-blown crush, and AGAIN, I started hearing the same things, about how she made him “feel alive,” “electrified,” et cetera. I’d just recovered from the “funeral girl,” and I just thought…oh great…deja vu.

But it was much worse. To summarise (too late), Max told me that he had fallen for her, even though he was torn because I was the only person who knew him in all his imperfection (true), understood him, and was in many ways perfect for him — on paper. He also told me that he felt that he hadn’t “LOVED” me for some time, for possibly as long as two years; apparently I had pressured him into saying those three words all those years by almost always saying them first. He admitted he had been cheating on me at least emotionally (where it counts) by telling her he loved her, and said he couldn’t say it to women anymore. No, really. He wanted nine days to make up his mind, nine days being the amount of online time she had left before moving to Texas to be with her boyfriend. WTF?

That he cared very much, but…
That he wanted a future with me and babies, but…
That he thought we had “possibilities” but…
That he’s too young (to give me the committment I want), that he “has to try”…

Basically, he chose her, and Sars, my life collapsed. I know we weren’t married or even engaged, but since 2000, I can honestly say that there has rarely been a day — I doubt if there have even been three consecutive days — when we have not spoken to each other, even if briefly. What began as an emotional inability to cope turned physical and I had to take four days of medical leave, suffering from a deeply infected upper respiratory system that still lingers (not helped by smog).

As I struggled with a LOT of work (from home) and finding sense or meaning to life, he told me that she had disappeared over the weekend, not returning his frantic calls. His life fell to pieces and yes, I was foolishly there, helping glue it together, assuring him, yet still crying for him to come back. Deeply unreal. Anyway, she did come back — turned out she had spent the weekend with her other ex-boyfriend. Max was all “I’ve learnt my lesson, I think that in a little while I’ll be able to work on loving you again.” More or less direct quotes. Of course it was a rebound. Well, she explained it all away, saying she hadn’t thought they were together, she had promised that guy she would spend time with him, yadda yadda. He bought it, and basically has spent the following week trying to win her over, ALL THE WHILE telling me that he needed time to think, swore up and down he didn’t love her, that they were just friends, and that neither of them wanted to “be with anyone right now,” he wanted to do some emotional cleaning, bah. Of course he chose her again (yes, she knew about me).

Now all this while — yes, I’m really really dumb — I stuck by him, hoping, hoping, hoping to be chosen. No poster child for self-esteem, I. It wasn’t until he started being really mean that I began to see light. You know how you think some things, some words are special to you as a couple? Yeah, the last betrayal. He said he did it to make it easier for me to let go, and I suppose it worked (he’s since recanted the meanness — I suppose one can afford to be gracious in “victory”). Funnily enough, immediately after he told me she had agreed to be his GF, I rapidly came back from the dead, as it were. Called a close friend, told her the whole sordid mess, and cried (the physically painful kind). Next day, I was oddly almost back to my normal self, when I had been unable to function at any level for almost a month. It probably helped that he apologised and blamed himself for everything.

Of course I hated the desperate needy person that I transformed into during those weeks. I’m still not sure where all that came from. I know relationships end, but there are ways, and then there are ways, and this sucked. Anyway, we stay in contact via IM, and it’s been pretty okay, if slightly stilted, which is to be expected.

Today, I came back from work to find a string of messages from him — she has an initial diagnosis of MS, and she has run away from home. Max thinks he’ll never see her again.

Ah, question time, finally.

1) Genuine question. Am I a complete ass for not really caring? I am honestly only able to muster a kind of vague compassion for either of them. And it disturbs me, because I don’t think I’m that kind of bitch.

2) Utilitarian question. What is my role here now, if any? We are friends still, and I feel somehow responsible partly because I do know that none of his weekend “buddies” really will give much of a shit about him over this.

3) Selfish question. Did my “fling” (we were on a goddamn break) with George and my subsequent indecision come back to bite me in the butt (i.e. karma)? In other words, is this delicious irony I deserve, hence my being strung along?

4) The Really Serious Question/s.
a) I’ve wondered why I behaved so foolishly. Quite honestly, if a close friend were in a similar situation, I’d roll my eyes (patiently) and urge her to grow several pairs. Why then the complete inability to do so myself? What piece/s of the puzzle am I missing?
b) Should I cut off all contact with Max till I figure myself out? Do you think I should seek help?
c) Max believes he has this “savior” complex; his mom is emotionally abused by his dad and he needs to “save” someone. I’m fairly normal, this girl has a very checkered, troubled history. If/when he manages to sort himself out, and I likewise, do you think it would be worth another go?

Thanks Sars, for helping to ease a tired mind. Even writing it all out has helped some. Please edit as you wish.

Signed,
I Never REALLY Liked Janis Ian Anyway!

Dear Jesus H. Christ,

Let me take 4c first: Are you fucking kidding me? NO, I DON’T THINK IT WOULD BE “WORTH ANOTHER GO.” He DOES NOT LOVE YOU. Do you not get that? After writing a letter Charles Dickens would have looked at all “damn, get to the point,” how can you still think Max is anything but an emotional drain whom you need to remove from your life?

1. No.

2. None. Give him your condolences; this is his problem, not yours.

3. Please tell me you’re joking. Max had feelings for another girl; you declined to stick around and see how that played out. Your only mistake was falling for his “I had an abusive childhood” horseshit (more on this in a second).

4a. You didn’t want to admit that a guy in whom you’d invested so much energy and emotion could really not have given a shit about you or your feelings.

4b. For the love of little apples, finally, years overdue, YES CUT HIS ASS OFF.

Look…you really need to reread this entire letter and see, really see, that Max will keep coming back all boo-boo-kitty “I made a big mistaaaaaake” (read: the girl I LEFT YOU FOR turned out to be a bad bet) and “I can’t live without youuuuuu” (read: “you’re a reliable doormat”) until you grow a pair and put a stop to it. He does this because he can, because you’ve let him do it over and over again FOR YEARS and given him no real consequences. I don’t doubt that the guy had a difficult childhood, but we’ve all got problems; there comes a time when you acknowledge that those problems are yours to deal with, and do not give you license to get your shit all over other people. Max doesn’t get that, and based on the fact that you’ve taken this dipshit who is emotionally unfaithful to you with GIRLS HE MET PLAYING VIDEOGAMES back, NUMEROUS TIMES? You don’t get it either.

Max is bad for you. Period. Wish him well and cut him off. Block his IM, block his email, box up every single thing that reminds you of him and put it all in storage. Declare him dead to you and move on. There will be no “another go.” You have given him a dozen “go”s; he’s rewarded you with infidelity and dick-yanking, and now there’s a pile of baggage up to the ceiling that you’re just never going to unpack.

I am saying this meanly so that you hear me. You are better than this. Act like it.

Hi Sars —

I’m having a little problem with the in-laws. Some background info: 1) the in-laws live about 45 minutes away, 2) I don’t like his mom very much — not like we can’t be in the same room or anything, I just don’t connect with her and don’t especially look forward to hanging with her. But obviously I recognize that she’s my husband’s mom and treat her with respect and am friendly and pleasant to her and save all eye-rolling and complaints for my journal.

My husband and I have an awesome little six-month-old boy, who is the first grandchild on both sides, and I understand that the grandparents are going to want to see him often to dote, coo, et cetera. But when does “often” become “intrusive”? His mom came to visit three weekends ago. Then the next weekend they both came. Then last weekend they called to see if they could come, but it was Superbowl and we were having our annual party. Then this week they called again, and are coming over tomorrow.

Am I being unreasonable to think that this is a little bit too much?

I am lucky enough to be able to stay at home with my baby, so it’s not like weekends are a break from the working week for me, but they are still weekends — time to have some QT with my husband, and get some precious alone-time in (I love my boy, but it’s nice to detach him from my hip for a little while sometimes). And I’m starting to feel like unless I fill our weekends with specific plans, my husband will see no reason to say no to his parents when they call to see if they can come see us (again). And that doesn’t seem fair.

When my husband called me this afternoon to talk to me about them coming tomorrow, I definitely sounded less-than-thrilled when I said “Sure….”, so there was some eloquent silence on his end, so I said, “It’s, you know, just that we’ve seen them two out of the past three weekends…” He said, “If your parents lived closer [my parents live about two hours away], and they wanted to see us every weekend, you wouldn’t mind.” I told him, and I’ll tell you, that that’s not true. I love and am very close with my mom, my dad, and my stepmom, but I wouldn’t even want to see them every weekend. (Plus I don’t think that even if they did live closer that they would impose themselves on us like this.) The phone call ended with me telling him that if he wanted them to come, that was fine with me even though it obviously isn’t 100% fine with me — I just didn’t want to have an argument over the phone while he was in the middle of work, and I also wanted to get my thoughts more in order about the whole thing, which this letter is a part of.

So, am I just being a selfish wench here? I don’t want to keep their grandchild from them, but…dude. Every weekend? And if I’m not being unreasonable, how do I gently and lovingly get my husband to understand that? He can get a little defensive around his mom because he knows that she irks me, but honestly even if we were BFF I wouldn’t want to see her this often. Should I suggest that sometimes he can take the baby and go see them without me, or would that really make them think I was a beeyotch?

Advise me!
Maybe we should have moved to California…

Dear Cali,

You need to tell him what you just told me — it’s not about his mom, and you don’t want him (or her) to think she’s not ever welcome or that this is about not getting along with her, because it isn’t. It’s about you wanting some QT with him, and some time on weekends to let your hair down without guests underfoot — and you’d say the same thing to your own parents.

Then suggest some compromises — that he goes to his parents’ sometimes without you, or that you both go now and then for an afternoon, or that his parents come by and you go to the movies for the day, or that he start putting his damn foot down with his mom because you’re tired of feeling like you have to be “on” every weekend. If they want to see their grandchild, that’s great, but it can’t be every weekend, and if it is, it can’t be at your house every time, because: boundaries. Come on.

Don’t make it about your feelings about his mother, and don’t let him make it about that either. It’s about the time commitment and the fact that you have to pick up the damn house before they come over, and you’re over it.

Oh Great Wise One!

How DO you do it all? Read all our letters for The
Vine, work, have a life, keep your sense of humor?

My sister and I are both in our thirties, in college
and working full-time and the stress is starting to
show. I believe both of us would benefit from
improving our time management and organizational
skills. You seem to have time for everything and I’m
jealous. I was hoping you, or one of your sympathetic
readers, would have some recommendations of decent
books or videos or something that would start us on
the road to better time management and organization.
The selection is vast and I’d rather not waste my time
and money on a quack out to make a buck off my
ignorance.

Starting to lose track of whole weeks!

Dear Lose,

I don’t really know from time-management books or videos; I write a to-do list every night and try to march through as much of it as I can each day. This doesn’t work for everyone, but if you’re anal, controlling, and a grown-up apple polisher like myself, it’ll probably work for you. Heh.

Maybe the readers can suggest some efficiency tomes, but here’s what I’d advise — keep a diary for a few days in which you note every activity and how much time it takes you, and I mean “every activity,” including your commute, snacking, bathroom breaks, phone calls, et cetera. Don’t judge yourself; don’t fudge the times so that you feel better about yourself. Write every single thing down for, like, a week.

At the end of the week, have a look at it and see where time is leaking — and see if you have certain tasks that you can’t group together to cut down on wasted time. For example, I noticed last year that the way I handled incoming email was bogging me down on other tasks, so I had to change that. The key is to figure out where you can sort of defrag your schedule to make better use of downtime.

But let me tell you, half the time it’s like the losing side of a log-rolling contest around here. We’re none of us machines, so just do the best you can and see if you can’t tune up your day so you get more done and feel less frazzled doing it.

Share!