Giving a shit, playing around, and armchair quarterbacking lesbian passes...

Dear Mom,

I am in some kind of mood these days. I have trouble giving a shit about anything. The world seems like such a weird and angry place. Sometimes, it feels like there are 8 billion people on this planet and most of them are yelling in my face. Some days I think I'm fine, but then I'll wake up the next day wanting to dig a hole nine feet deep so I can crawl in it until the idiots are done fucking with my head. I don't even really know what to ask you and I feel stupid vaguely complaining. But how can you care about people's stupid little problems when the world is so fucked up?

-- Drowning

My dear,

Mom suspects that rather than not giving a shit, the real problem is that you care too much -- about the world we live in and the ways in which our species has been behaving lately. And, yes, I have been having my days when everything seems pointless... but I have never stopped caring about the problems people write me with, even if I haven't gotten off my duff and actually answered them. Mom believes life can be shaped by big events, at times, but that mostly it is defined by all the tiny decisions we make each and every day. And there are even times, Mom has discovered, that the answers to the big issues (like, "why are we here?" and "is there a point to all this?") are hidden in the routine of simply going about our lives, caring about the little things, allowing ourselves to be selfish, and generally honoring life by wallowing in all its petty glory.

So, as hard as it is to believe, Mom says "God bless" to those people who are back to worrying about whether their mother-in-law hates them or if they need to tell potential partners that they have herpes even though they haven't had an outbreak in years (or so they say). That is the stuff of life and we should obsess with it. Keep in mind that caring about our little problems does not preclude us from bemoaning the state of mankind on a larger scale. But it does at least empart a semblance of normalcy to our lives, and the illusion of having some control -- which, face it, is ridiculous as none of us has any control over our lives whatsoever, it's all just one big crapshoot (not that we need to acknowledge this every minute of our days). So, please, do carry on. Mom urges all readers to obsess about breast size and unreturned phone calls to your heart's content. That's life.

And now, if you'll excuse me, Mom is worn out from being philosophical. She is off in search of a Darvon and a nap.

Fondly,

Mom

Dear Mom,

What do you think about a husband who refuses to have sex? It's not like he says "no", but he always has an excuse, avoids going to bed at the same time as me, and says I am making a big fuss over nothing. He's in his mid-forties and so am I. Which, of course means, he is working all the time and doesn't care about sex, while I am being driven crazy by hormones. What am I supposed to do about it? Just let my ovaries shrivel up and die?

-- The Burning Bed in Brooklyn

My dear,

First of all, Mom urges you to put down the book of matches and step away from the bed. Thank you. Now let's discuss: life was so much more civilized when human beings didn't talk about such things, but simply took care of the problem with a few discreet affairs on the side. But that was then (when kings did it, queens did it, the rich and the poor did it, when people understood that sex was sex and love was an entirely different animal indeed) and this is now. We live in a time in which movies and books feed us stories of instant love served up as quickly as microwavable oatmeal, and presumed to be as lasting as the crust that lands on your microwave walls once the whole sorry mess explodes. Mom has perhaps mangled a metaphor, but the astute reader will catch her drift. Love refuses to conform to rhyme or reason. This can be frustrating to the modern woman. We have come to expect our own love stories to follow the logical path of a blockbuster movie. It is now impossible to embark on an episode of one's life without expecting a conflict, crisis and happy ending. The truth is, if you have been paying attention in this column so far, life is messy and love is messy -- and sex is the messiest of all. All you can do is role up your sleeves, endure, cope, explode, break a few commandments, forgive yourself and move on.

Having said that, perhaps Mom should explain what the hell all this has to do with you: Mom believes that sex is part of the marriage convenant, with marriage defined as two partners who are committed to one another for the long haul, whether a legal contract exists or not. Sex between two partners does more than satisfy an instinctual itch. It is a form of intimacy and unspoken communication that sets the marital relationship above and beyond even the closest of friendships otherwise. Without sex, this unique bond is broken and you may as well be living with that guy you like to meet for coffee but would never have considered marrying because he has hair in his ears.

What does ths mean when your partner does not wish to have sex? It means he or she has broken one of the convenants of your partnership. Trickily enough, it also means that if you give in to your hormones and sleep with someone else, you are breaking another one of those convenants: your pledge to keep that particular bond unique to your partner.

What's a girl to do? Frankly, Mom believes you can't fight nature. Mom believes that a woman in her mid-forties -- for the first time in her entire fucking life -- is finally hormonally-positioned to enjoy the hell out of sex. In short, Mom believes you ought to be getting it as often as possible. So here is Mom's advice: inform your husband that you are not quite ready to hang up your teddies and edible oils. Let him know that if he does not intend to resume sexual relations, you will find a partner to fill the empty, er, space in your life. Let him know that you don't wish to do this behind his back, but as it is tacky to flaunt such things, you will leave the actual try-outs and consummation of his eventual replacement up to his imagination and that you do not expect to be questioned about it. Then sit back and give him a few weeks. Chances are 50/0 he will make an effort. If he doesn't, just make sure you find someone to sleep with who is as equally encumbered as you, both emotionally and financially. The key here is to find a sexual partner unlikely to end up expecting more from you than you want to give. The situation will nonethless be fraught with many potential minefields, I assure you. You must promise Mom that you will always remember that you're in for the sex only, not for a future. Good luck.

Fondly,

Mom

Dear Mom,

I am a woman. I am 26 years old. My best friend made a pass at me. We were both drunk, but I have known her for six years and never suspected she was a lesbian. She goes out with guys all the time. I made some excuse and left her apartment immediately and have not seen her since. That was two weeks ago. She's called me every other day since, but I'm too embarassed to pick up the phone. What should I do now?

Yours,
Straight in the South

My dear,

For heaven's sakes, if you can't get drunk and make a pass at your best friend and be forgiven, then who the hell can you trust these days? Your friend made a mistake. She may or not be confused. She may be a lesbian, or she may simply be a horny drunk. Mom is not interested in any of these labels. The only label she is interested in is the "best friend" one you used when referring to this woman. If you want to throw away all those years of caring and supporting each other over something as silly as this, Mom can not stop you. But somehow, somewhere deep inside, Mom suspects that this nefarious attack on your sacred virture will fade and become nothing more than a passing moment in a life-long friendship -- if you let it go. Please pick up the phone, call your friend and say you were embarassed, but you're over it, and then suggest you get together for coffee. Mom also recommends that you ask your friend if she is, indeed, gay. If you're truly her friend, she ought to be able to tell you and you ought to be able to love her for it. She's still the same person, for god sakes. You might also congratulate her on her excellent taste in women, then help her find someone a little more willing than you are to come across with the goods. And be flattered. She obviously cares a great deal for you. Mom asks that you respect her love by nurturing the friendship, despite your embarassment (which, by the way, is very seldom fatal).

Fondly,
Mom

Dear Mom,

My friend at work is about to make a terrible mistake. I caught her making out with the managing partner in the supply closet and she later confessed that she was thinking of having an affair with him. But he's married! She just got over a bad divorce and I'd hate to see her hurt again. Plus I always thought she had higher morals than this, PC crap aside. How can I get her to see the light?

Yours,
Clear-Eyed in Kansas City

My dear,

You are grossly confused. Mom hardly knows where to start. For one thing, if your friend is making out with the boss in a supply closet, they are not "thinking" of having an affair, they're right in the thick of one. Secondly, your friend is breaking no moral code here -- strictly speaking, it's the married man who is stepping over the line. Your friend is single and free to boff whomever she wishes, unless you wish to propose that she is violating some rule of sisterhood -- in which case Mom might have to ask the question you probably don't want to hear, which is something along the lines of "Which one of them are you most jealous of, my dear?" Which brings us to your last point of confusion. Tell Mom the truth -- isn't it hard enough to maintain control over your own vagina without trying to police someone else's while you're at it? What makes you think you have jurisdiction over your friend's sex life, anyway? Your only duty here is to listen, and stand by to support her when the inevitable shit hits the fan. If you want to try for extra credit, you could also start circling potential jobs in the want ads for when the whole thing goes down the tubes and she needs to find a new place to work. Otherwise, please recognize that people often need to learn these things the hard way. A true friend understands that we are all entitled to fuck up according to our own schedule.

Fondly,
Mom

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