Unsolicited Advice

Sometimes people like to tell you things in an effort to “help you.” Sometimes you hear them out and you think, “Yeah, you know, that’s some pretty good counsel. I’m gonna take that and implement it.” This is most effective when it comes from someone who has some authority on the subject at hand, like a professor in a classroom, or an expert on window coverings at Linens-N-Things (I was a Windows Expert there many years ago; of course you can’t get advice at LNT now that they’ve gone out of business—sad day, and no, I had nothing to do with their downfall).
But sometimes well-meaning friends, family, and strangers like to tell you what to do, which is humorous at best, though typically just obnoxious.
Let’s start with one of those obnoxious examples. I know I’ve said it before, but remember that lady who is always telling me that if I don’t get married and start having babies PRONTO, I’m a big sinner? Her favorite words of wisdom to me have included:

• Move to Utah (everyone’s solution—when I pointed out that I lived in Utah for seven years, she just moved onto her next piece of advice, which was)
• Don’t be so picky
• Try online dating (she then used several of the home ward examples of couples who’ve made a cyber love connection, and let’s be honest… these people are nutters!)

Then there are the funnier things you hear. One day not too long ago, a friend of my little brother hopped into my car as I was preparing to leave the Institute. I mentioned that I am quite busy and my life is rather stressful, and he told me I needed to drop things once in a while to have fun. Now, this may be decent advice if the things stressing a person out are “Hmm… what do I wear to my eighth date of the week?” or how to squeeze in one more shopping trip, but my stress tends to be more centered in work, paying off my mortgage, finding money for graduate school, even getting into graduate school, etc., etc. He then said to me, “It’s ok. You can’t help that you’re stubborn. You’re a Taurus.” And who are you, one of LaToya Jackson’s Psychic Friends? Miss Cleo? Hrmph.
Sometimes advice is just unfounded, though well-meant. I mentioned to my mom that I have tentative plans later this week to go out with Adrian. Yes, Mr. Sam’s Club has been in contact, in a major way. Knowing more about him now than just his cuteness, I’m guessing we’re not a love connection, but why not go on a harmless date? I’m happy to give him the #96 slot, even though #89 nearly killed me, and I still struggle with strong feelings for #87 and #92. #97, a boy I plan to go out with someday, haunts my dreams. But Adrian? He just seems like a nice guy. Why shouldn’t I make a friend of him, right? But my mom is worried. “You don’t know what this guy is like,” she says. I know. Exactly the point of going on a casual date and getting to know him. She’s seen him once in line, but I’m sure she didn’t pay attention to him. She’s not the people-watcher I am, and she doesn’t utilize her brain power to memorize faces and facts like I do. Regardless, she worries. Even though I’m a 27 (nearly 28) year-old woman, she says things like, “What if he has an STD?” Um, yes, what if he does? I said, “Oh, mother. It’s not like I’m even planning on making out with him, and even if I were, the boys I kiss have to pass the no-mouth-herpes test.” Really. She worries about my safety, but I’m nine inches taller than he is, and I likely outweigh him by 50 lbs. And even if he did have an STD, it's not like I'm gonna contract it by having dinner with him. In fact, I'm not going to be doing anything with anyone that's gonna give me one, thank you very much.
Still, it’s my own fault for politely listening to these people day-in and day-out. So I guess if you wanted to tell me whether to use my new antique bed as a fainting couch on the porch or an extra guest bed in the study, feel free. If you think you know what I should serve my guests the next time I make a fancy dinner, I’m open. You can tell me who to vote for and how to dress. I don’t mind hearing you think I wear too much jewelry or makeup. I’m glad to know that the music I listen to is outdated, and I really ought to be into Lady Gaga. Don’t feel bad, though, if you later discover I didn’t hear you over the Mountain Goats on my iPod.

PS. Tuesday is D-Day, as in Date Day. Stay tuned for how Adrian fares as #96.