Two years ago I dressed up as Anna Nicole for Halloween and I've been know to deliver an over-the-top imitation of her slurring her way through an MTV awards presentation. I thought my friends associated me with Anna Nicole and that was why they were frantically spreading the news. But, that wasn't it. There was something about Anna Nicole, some sort of tragic familiarity that made her the center of attention, good and bad. Mostly bad.

When her son died in September, I stopped doing my Anna Nicole routine. He was only two years younger than my own son. I couldn't imagine enduring that kind of pain by itself, but she had the added burden of a new baby and the constant media attention. If stress alone can kill a person, that kind of stress would have done me in the first week.

I certainly didn't consider Anna Nicole a role model. I didn't consider her a creative talent. I didn't really consider her to be anything, but famous. She was famous for marrying a rich old man. She was famous for her numerous court battles. She was famous for getting fat. She was famous for getting thin. She was famous for her vulnerability.

Though Anna Nicole was beautiful, she was "weakness" personified, and I think that's why we loved to hate her. We made her famous so we could feel better about ourselves. I'm not saying that fame killed her. That would be too cliche. She died from the same thing that made her famous. She was human. And so are we. And, I suppose that's why I'm sad.
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I just started dating a guy who is pretty good looking, but he has potential to look even better. He could be a cross between Christian Slater and Ty Pennington. All he needs is a hair cut, some new clothes, and possibly a tool belt. How can I change his look without hurting his feelings?

Sassy Lady with Unusual Taste

Dear S.L.U.T.

Your question makes me nostalgic for my old flame, Joe. He had the best body and he would let me dress him any way I wanted. I remember how hot he looked driving around in his cute little jeep wearing head-to-toe camo. Unfortunately, our relationship was doomed from the start. It turns out that he wasn’t anatomically correct, and when I caught him on top of Barbie in the toy chest, I had to kick him to the curb. The last I saw of him, he was wearing nothing but combat boots and a blank stare. Lite Brites and Easy Bake ovens may come and go, but you never forget your first boy toy.

Back to your question. If your guy has bendable parts and a brain, he most likely makes his own clothing and hair decisions. But, should he ask for your assistance, by all means suggest a visit to Sears to pick up some Ty-wear. Or take him to the Lost and Found at your local rehab center to get that strung out Christian Slater look. But, buyer beware. You need to be willing to accept makeover suggestions from your boyfriend, as well. Clothing shouldn’t be an issue, what with your plastic breasts and one inch waist, but as far as I know, they don’t sell personalities with substance at the Gap.
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There are women who leave the house with manicured nails and perfectly styled hair in shiny cars that never seem to lose that new car smell. And there are the rest of us.

There are women who do it all, work full-time in climate-controlled offices, and full-time inside the home where there is always an adequate supply of paper products, healthy snacks and fresh-smelling sheets. And then there are the rest of us.

There are women who are are always ready for sex, not just willing, but ready, as in, shaved and flossed and spritzed with a healthy supply of fresh ideas. And then there are the rest of us.

In this, my Declaration of Indolence, I assert my inequality to these women, who do in fact exist. They are not mythical creatures created by the media to torment the rest of us. I know these women. I hate these women. I could name them individually, but a hundred years from now, they will still exist, just with different names.

Let freedom ring, at least where our daughters are concerned, that they may know the joy of not taking care of everyone and everything. Let our daughters not take responsibility for the mistakes of all men. Let our daughters be free to take care of themselves first and foremost with the knowledge that they cannot and should not take care of the entire population of men and children and house pets.

I solemly publish and declare that a woman shall be free from her own tyranny, absolved from allegiance to public image and free to pursue her inalienable rights to happiness, life and liberty. Oh, and may she be free to shave her legs only when she feels like it.
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My boyfriend smokes a lot of weed. This has never really bothered me before, even though I don’t smoke. Lately, his habit is starting to cause problems. After being unemployed for 3 months, he was finally offered a good job with a good company, but he was denied the job after he failed the drug test. The fact that he couldn’t stay away from the stuff for a couple of months while he was job hunting makes me think this is a bigger problem than I realized. My boyfriend says that he’s not addicted to weed, but his love for it has cost him a job. That sounds like addiction to me. How can I get him to stop?

Fed Up with his smoking

Dear Up in Smoke:

Do you feel that breeze under your skirt? That's your boyfriend blowing smoke up your ass. Of course he has a problem. But, if I were to answer your question honestly, it would make for dull reading. How can you get him to stop? Um, you can’t. Next question.

What you really want to know is how you can turn a fish into a puppy. When you chose to get involved with Cheech Junior, you got yourself the equivalent of a pet goldfish, and everything that goes with owning a pet goldfish. He’s been swimming around his fishbowl the same way he always has since you first got together. Then, all of a sudden, you realized that you never wanted a goldfish, you wanted a puppy instead. You thought that if Cheech loved you enough, he would eventually transform himself into the puppy you always wanted. It makes you feel cheated watching him swim around and around that fishbowl, making no effort at all to turn into a puppy.

Rather than waste all your energy trying to alter genetics, I suggest you, either give your stoner boyfriend away to someone with lower expectations, or go and find yourself a second source of income. At the very least, you should probably invest in a plastic cup and some duct tape. Think about it.
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As I find myself changing priorities by spending less time on maintaining my physical appearance, and more time on my emotional growth, (translation: watching TV), I see that I need to find a way to feel sexual and desirable regardless of what’s happening on the outside. To help me reach this goal, I decided to consult the experts on this topic, three single guys.

When I asked Ben, a hot 24 year old plumber, how important physical beauty was to sex, he shared a personal experience.

“I once dated this girl who, seriously, looked like a centerfold.” He said, “But, sexually, she was like a saltine cracker. Even worse, she was like a low sodium, low fat saltine cracker.”

I challenged him with something I once overheard in a women’s bathroom. “Honey, when you look this hot, all you gotta do is show up.”

“Is that true?” I asked.

“Not with this chick” Ben said. “No amount of beauty could make up for the fact that she lacked a human soul.”

Ray, a 40 year old investment banker used the following analogy.

“Sometimes it’s nice to go to a fancy french restaurant.” he said. “The food looks great with squiggly ribbons of sauce, and chives sprinkled over a tiny sliver of meat. It tastes great. You might even recommend the restaurant to your friends. But, it doesn’t fill you up the way Western Sizzlin can. A lot of beautiful women are like french food, pretentious and unsatisfying, while your basic meat and potatoes girls sustain you and keep you coming back for more.”

When Dave, a 28 year old salesman cited personality as the secret weapon that attracts men to average looking women, I was skeptical. I’ve always considered a good personality as the universal euphemism used by best friends to try to hook you up with their boyfriends' loser cousins.

After some clarification, I think I understand how it works. Basically, the degree to which a man is attracted to a woman’s personality is the degree to which she makes him feel desirable, sexy, smart, manly, etc. It’s not as easy as it sounds. That’s why it’s called seduction.

Sexual attraction is complicated because it is at once primal and basic, but emotionally complex. To buy in to the media version of sex being the exclusive domain of beautiful people, we deny the emotional component that makes human sexuality uniquely human.

Personally, I may never reach the kind of sexual Nirvana that goes beyond physical boundaries, but I plan to keep trying, even if it means eating more ice cream and sacrificing another day at the gym.
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