A Word of Advice 

“the only advice I can really offer”

I don’t know much about relationships or careers or politics or business or about healthy living so you know, don’t take this to heart but I do know a few things.

First: you can never say, “I told you so” to anybody of any importance in your life. Friends, family, loved ones — never say this to them. Enemies? Sure. Say it 'til the cows come home. Say it until the cows come home, throw off their shoes and say ‘whew, whadda day!’ have supper, fall asleep on the couch then go to bed. Knock yourself out with saying that to opposing teams of whatever sport you play but never, ever say it to anyone you want to keep in your life.

This also applies to eye-rolling and tut-tutting. For what are eye-rolls and tut-tutts if not an “I told you so” by another name? They are simply “I told you so’s” wrapped inside another gesture.

Second: get your own damn fries. I know you said you didn’t want fries but then you ate some off my plate and it was cute — the first time. It is only cute once. Never again. If you want fries or wooly socks or batteries or phone cables then get your own damn fries. This is not about generosity or ownership or territory but the act of abusing a relationship to get what you want without the appearance of desiring it. So. Get your own damn fries.

Third: don’t stay out until 2AM drinking when you have an 8AM meeting the next day. It is not cool. It is disrespectful to the other people in said meeting and shows poor forethought. Don’t stay at a party where you hardly know anyone, hanging around being the last to leave because you are genuinely interested in what new acquaintances are saying or because you want to catch up and reconnect with old friends who you sorely miss but don’t want to say that for fear of seeming needy or forlorn. Don’t linger to watch curious videos of Buddy Guy playing furiously in “Winnipeg’s bright white light”. Then definitely don’t ride your bike out into the night hurling yourself through the abyss of darkness stopping to discuss with strangers about the oddity of solo piano playing in a park at 1:30AM. Obviously don’t then write a plodding sentimental, though honest account of such an evening like some kind of teen-ager’s “feelings journal”.

Fourth: however, do take two ibuprofen, one Imodium and a large glass of water before bed to offset the effects of the next day’s hangover. No seriously, that works. That is the only advice I can really offer.

Interesting note: this is the 800th post of this site.