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Wednesday, Nov 25, 2009
I'm tired of playing second fiddle to my beautiful best friend who has a body like a Playboy bunny.
Mar 6, 2001 | It's Sunday, Mr. Blue is in Berlin --- Guten Morgen! Guten Tag! Gesundheit! --- and it's snowing, and cloudy and cold, and I hereby give myself permission not to be a tourist, but sit in a warm hotel room with ein kannchen kaffee mit milch and brot mit butter and read the mail from Amerika.
First off, the readership was united shoulder-to-shoulder against Mr. Blue's advice to the nonbelieving dad to go ahead, humor his believer wife, go to church with her as a sign of respect, since it means so much to her. One hundred percent of the readership thinks this is lousy advice. You are all so terribly, terribly wrong, but Mr. Blue forgives you from the depths of his great loving heart and longs to counsel you in these matters. See me after the 11 a.m. service.
Many readers thought Mr. Blue was too easy on Academically Challenged, who is worried how to tell his wife that he is not a Harvard graduate, as he told her many years ago during courtship. They felt that his lie is symptomatic of something deeper and weirder. I prefer the comment of a Harvard grad ('86) who says, "I can't believe that AC's wife, an Ivy graduate herself, doesn't suspect that he's been lying. Hasn't she noticed that he doesn't get the monthly requests for donations!? I think that she just hasn't wanted to confront him with this harmless (since it was done in the name of romance rather than career) lie."
As for Lifeline, who is dealing with a suicidal and clinging friend, a reader recommends a book, "Walking on Eggshells" (Harbinger Press). She says, "It has the best advice I've seen about dealing with people who are suicidal, hurting themselves or just plain impossible. Gives concrete examples of how to say what you need to say, and a framework for deciding when to walk away." Another reader feels that Lifeline's friend is suffering from borderline personality disorder: "Lifeline will find herself giving and giving and giving until she has no choice but to end all contact. People with full-out BPD have been likened to vampires of the emotional world. Not their fault, it's all they know. But it makes relating to them difficult, and helping them hard." And another reader suggests (sensibly) that the friend be persuaded to call a crisis line. "For many people it's much less intimidating than the thought of face-to-face therapy, and the people who work such lines are in a much better position to have callers become dependent upon them (or upon the line itself). If the friend is in need of a caring and nonjudgmental listener without so much invested in her life as Lifeline, and if therapy seems too daunting, a call to a crisis line is a good first step."
Mr. Blue's recommendations of antidepressants to a couple of letter writers brought some stern rejoinders from folks with unpleasant memories of Prozac and Zoloft. One writes: "I'm concerned about a tendency in our society to medicate emotions. If someone close to me dies or leaves me, and I'm sad, that doesn't make me sick. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I think it's better to reserve the medicines that change the way your brain operates for people whose brains have definable imbalances."
A reader tosses in a wise word to Doctor Lady, who is writing her Ph.D. thesis and dreads the thought of a career in research and the hamster wheel of tenure-track positions. I advised her to consider changing course, but the reader says, perfectly sensibly, "Take a three-week vacation after your thesis work is over, then attend a conference in your field. Chances are you'll be back enjoying yourself in research, and if you aren't at least you will abandon research on a cooler head rather than in haste." Good advice. Don't make big decisions when you're tired.
Dear Mr. Blue,
My best friend is beautiful and has the body of a Playboy bunny. I'm tired of playing second fiddle to her. If we go out, men flock to her, our guy friends adore her and my boyfriends flirt with her. Of course, I can't hate her, because she is so down to earth, funny and nice. How do I stop feeling so jealous of her? It isn't her fault, but I am pea green with envy. Help.
Nancy Normal
Dear Nancy,
Second fiddle is a good part to play, better than first in so many ways. You get to be the observer, for one thing, and the freedom from ego. And I would think it's hilarious to see these guys hovering around her, breathing her in, trying to look down her dress. But it's maybe not so hilarious for her. Beauty is a great facilitator. You can use it to sell cars or attract a crowd or dazzle a boss, but it gets boring fast to be around people who can't see past your face. They're thrilled to be with you, but they have no idea who you are. You're no second fiddle to her; you're a good friend, and you are precious to her. Stick around and enjoy the show and be a pal.
