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The Dandelion Preservation Society is now closed.

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A snow-related question.

Dear Empress of Real Advice,
Why are Texans bad drivers?
I find myself constantly yelling at drivers and this weeks epidemic has made matters worse. What on earth compels people to drive like monkeys on LSD?

– Expert on Drug Use in Animals

This is a complex issue. My first instinct is to say, it’s probably way more fun to drive like a monkey on LSD than it is to drive like a normal person. But upon further consideration, a paranoia-inducing drug in an animal that lacks the capacity for complex abstract thought is probably not all that fun.

But it does bring up an interesting idea: paranoia. Maybe the drivers know that you’re saying awful things about them behind their backs, and it’s affecting their driving.

Perhaps you should give the drivers the benefit of the doubt. If you assume every other person is racing to the hospital because they just heard that their wife is in labor, worries about bad road etiquette take a back seat to concerns about overpopulation.

Also, why are all these women going into labor at the same time? There’s a bigger conspiracy at play here.

Real advice now available for human testing.

All right, out of the thousands and thousands of questions you all submitted, I have chosen one:

Why did blue also choose to be the color of cold? I like blue sky, hate the cold. Right now, my washing machine has my stuff trapped in it because it’s frozen solid – stupid cold. And, what’s your advice on how to free my washing before Spring? (last time it did this it took a week to thaw out … I did exactly the same thing this year as last … apparently I’m not very bright so need a simple solution.)

– Wearing Frozen Clothes in Texas

Okay, that’s a lot. We’ll take this in pieces.

Why did blue also choose to be the color of cold?

Because Blue has a dark side, a very, very dark side. Always bring a witness with you when visiting Blue, and don’t inquire about the smell coming from the crawl space.

I like blue sky, hate the cold.

That’s not a question, but yeah. He’s a bastard.

Right now, my washing machine has my stuff trapped in it because it’s frozen solid – stupid cold.

Still not a question.

And, what’s your advice on how to free my washing before Spring?

Ah, here we go. I have a lot of ideas, so I’ll just lay them out for you.

Build a small fire underneath your washer to melt the ice.

Move to a tropical climate.

Throw some salt in there. Wait, does salt actual melt the ice, or does it just give you traction for walking on ice? Whatever, it’s still worth a shot.

Two words: ice pick.

Boil some water and toss it in there. But you’ll have to keep boiling water so you have an infinite supply, because this would be a very slow process. Also, try not to burn yourself while fishing your clothes out.

Do you really even like those clothes? Wouldn’t you rather have new clothes? I think you see where I’m going with this.

Wait for spring, which should be a couple days away according to the news guy.

(last time it did this it took a week to thaw out … I did exactly the same thing this year as last … apparently I’m not very bright so need a simple solution.

Hmm, if this is a repeat problem, you may want to look at these two situations and see what the common denominator is: you. And also your washing machine. And winter.

So you should probably change all those things, and then the problem will take of itself.

On Cold Weather

So, turns out there is such a thing as winter. I’d always thought it was a myth, but with each passing day I become more and more certain that when I die several decades from now, there will still be ice on the ground.  I would never make it in Montana.

Snow makes the dandelions go away. It is the dandelions’ only natural predator.

I’m pretty sure there is a solid layer of ice coating every single surface on earth right now, like at the end of Cat’s Cradle when Ice-9 gets dropped into the ocean. Maybe on some tropical island, there’s one lonely guy huddling over a puddle that holds the only liquid water left on the planet.

Cold weather makes me pessimistic.

So, there’s ice coating all the highways, and it’s sort of mottled and chipped off in places, and has turned dingy grey from the highway grime. It looks like the background of a Giger painting, but with fewer penises.

But I do like those abstract ice sculptures that form on the back bumper of people’s vehicles, right behind the tire. They look like Green Men.

For reference.

Anyway, I’m ready for summer. Which was here like a week ago, what the hell happened?

Stay tuned tomorrow, I’ll answer my first question! Submit yours today!

It should come as no surprise that Red is the sluttiest color.

Okay, I got a lot of endorsements for the advice column idea, but no actual questions. And you know what? Your lives aren’t so perfect. I bet there’s plenty of stuff that I could advise you on, but you’re just too proud to ask me.

So, I’ll give you a little taste of what it would be like if I answered one of your questions. To start, I picked a commonly asked question at random:

Why is the sky blue?

And here’s my answer:

A lot of people will tell you that it’s because the wavelength of the color blue is shorter, and therefore it is more common blah blah blah science blah. But here’s the truth:

In the beginning, when the world was first forming, all the colors got together to decide what color everything would be. And obviously, the sky was a plum gig. It’s up there everyday. Everyone looks at it. It’s basically the default color. So everyone wanted it. So the colors decided to have kind of a competition to see who would be the designated color of the sky. It was kind of like the talent portion of a beauty pageant, only it actually mattered.

So, the colors all did their best tricks to see who it would be. Purple did breakdancing. Yellow did baton twirling. Green sang opera. Orange did a dramatic monologue. Red did sex stuff.

Then, at long last, it was Blue’s turn. And Blue really wanted it. He wanted to be the only color that mattered, the one color that every other color was measured against. And what better way to do that then to be always up in the sky?

So Blue got up on stage  (There was a stage. Did I mention that?), and he just started talking. And talking. And slowly but surely, he convinced every other color that he should be the one to shoulder the enormous burden of being the color of the sky. He said it was hard work, that the sky would be totally unappreciated. Who really looks up ever anyway? Only a bunch of goddamn hippies, that’s who. He would take one for the team. It was an amazing speech.

And what’s even more amazing, they all bought it. Turns out, Blue’s talent was charm. If there was a movie about Blue’s life, he would be played by George Clooney. That’s how charming he was.

Now, as part of the deal Blue struck with the other colors, he said he’d allow them to all be included at sunrise and sunset. He said they would be the most beautiful times of the day. But what he failed to mention was that it would happen when all the people of earth were commuting to and from work, and the sun would be in their eyes, and nobody would appreciate the beauty in front of them unless they were a bunch of goddamn hippies.

So in answer to your question – which is the most narcissistic color – the answer is Blue.

So now, I ask you: Don’t you want me to answer your questions and give you advice? I guess the question I answered today wasn’t really an advice question. But you know, you can extrapolate from here what my advice would be like.

Ask away!

Some more advice

You should keep a fork in your purse. It’s very handy.

If you don’t carry a purse, you probably shouldn’t keep a fork in your pocket. There’s a high potential for injury. Maybe keep it in your glove compartment?

By the way, I’m not trying to turn this blog into an advice column. Unless you guys want to send me some questions. And you promise to never follow my advice, unless it happens to be really good.

So, in conclusion:

1. Carry a fork.
2. Jury’s still out on the advice column thing.

Have a wonderful Monday. Here’s hoping the icy weather happens early enough to prevent you from going to work, but late enough to allow you to get home from the bar the night before.

Advice for teenage boys

When you give someone a dutch oven, you are also giving them unsupervised access to your balls.

Monday is boring.

Sometimes when I’m at work, my mind will wander.  I’ll start off thinking about some movie I want to see (Black Swan) and who I’d like to see it with (my friend Bethany – we have a date!). And then I’ll think about Natalie Portman, who stars in Black Swan, and who has apparently written a movie that is about to be produced. And I’ll think, that’s really annoying that she’s beautiful and talented, and suddenly she wants to write a movie and poof! there’s a production company there at her door. (I don’t know if that’s actually true. Maybe it was hard for her to get the movie made. No offense, Natalie Portman.) And then I’ll think about how talent doesn’t really matter when it comes to getting your movie made, it’s all a matter of luck really. And I think about the idea that luck, and not hard work or talent or intelligence, is really the deciding factor in who succeeds and who fails. And when I was younger, that was a hard truth, heartbreaking. But now I kind of just blink and wave my hand and accept it. And I’ve had some luck myself recently, so who am I to find fault with the system that allows me to succeed? Not that I’ve succeeded yet, but it seems possible right now. And maybe that’s just because I’m still relatively young and the world seems big and kind. And maybe someday, many failures and near-successes will have broken me down into an embittered asshole, like some of the writers whose blogs I read (not all of them are assholes, though). And then I think, will I be able to stay like this for any length of time? Will I maintain some perspective, some ability to not wallow in every tiny setback that may befall me?

And then I look up and realize that I’ve been playing minesweeper this whole time.

Minesweeper is meditation for the cubicle dwellers. It’s powerful stuff.

No writing errors were found, bitches! Ha-HA!

Dear Blog,

Hey.

So…how’ve you been?

I’ve been good. Busy. Writing stuff, doing stuff, watching stuff. Playing stuff. You know. The usual.

So listen. I know we’ve sort of…grown apart lately. Maybe we needed some space. I’m totally cool with that, and I hope you are too. But I wanted to let you know that I’ll always be here for you, just like I know you’ll always be here for me.

So, I guess, let’s catch up.

First, I’ve been going to the gym. Well, okay, that’s an exaggeration. I got a gym membership and went for a couple of weeks, but lately…not so much. And I really need to go because if I’m going to someday convince Edgar Wright to become my mistress, I’ll have to be really hot.

Also, Adam and I got a Wii. And new Super Mario Bros. And we finished it. So that’s done.

You know what I was thinking about the other day? I was thinking about my dream house. And all those crazy things you always want for your dream house when you’re a kid? Yeah, I still want those. I want a room where the ceiling and all the walls are padded and the floor is a trampoline. I want a giant tree house as a guest cottage. I want the apartment that Tom Hanks had in Big (not the one with the murders happening outside). And you know what else? I want a room just like Jeannie’s bottle in I Dream of Jeannie. Round, with a couch lining the wall and pillows everywhere. And no door. You have to enter from the ceiling or a trap door in the floor. I would spend all day in there. My trampoline floor room would be tragically unused. (Okay, not really. I’d divide my time equally.)

Hmm, what else?

Oh! We finally got our fridge! It’s amazing. There’s room for everything. And it’s mostly empty right now. So, it’s good that we upgraded.

So that’s what’s going on with me. What have you been up to lately? How’s life? Did you go to the doctor for that thing?

In closing, I’d just like to say that there is nothing better on earth than Mexican hot chocolate (not a euphemism).

Talk to you soon (I hope).

Yours truly,

Empress Lindsay