Don't wear earrings with prescription glasses

For some reason, I've been dispensing a lot of advice lately. In the past few months friends have been coming to me with their woes, and dare I toot my own horn, I've been dishing out sage advice.

Just call me Ann friggin' Landers. Or maybe more accurately, Lucy van Pelt since I probably look more like her and have a similar cynical disposition.

Not surprisingly, most of the problems deal with affairs of the heart, and since I've been a resident of Singlesville for a while---I roll with the mayor and the police chief---I'm able to give unbiased, straight-forward advice that isn't clouded by lovey dovey-ness. See, I'm actually logical and rational as hell, so I'll tell you like it is. No holding your hand on your way to your first day of kindergarten. Take the bus like the rest of us chumps.

At the risk of jinxing it, I've been a zen master lately, the coolest cucumber in the crisper, chilled out and blissed out beyond (even my) belief.

This clear-headed state probably helps in giving good, rational advice. Everything ain't no thang. There really are few things in life one can't recover from (to a certain degree) given enough time, so why sweat it?

Who knows how long this calm stage will last? Maybe I am in the eye of the storm and shit's going to hit the fan soon. But until then I am just gonna continue playing Yoda and sip on this G and T.

Random thought: you can tell a lot about a person through their hands. It's like shoes. A person's personal style is reflected through their shoewear. You can tell what a person's hygiene and hobbies are like through their hands.

Are the hands rough? Are their nails dirty? Do they have long nails? Hands are like the face sans make-up. There's the same exposure to the elements. We don't usually cover up our hands except when it's really cold. So they're pretty telling of our lifestyle.

I really like looking at men's hands. Sometimes you can tell what someone's body looks like just by looking at the bone structure of their hands.

Hands! Advice! Monday!

I wanna hold your haaaaaand...

So I gotta give a proper shout out to this blog I've been following lately. Two words: Ryan Maloney. The man is a genius, absolutely brimming with wit and humour. I can attest to that because I work with him. Not only does he bring joy to my daily editorial meetings, he also brings a winning smile, apple-coloured cheeks and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, making the daily grind just that much more bearable.

I think Julie summed it up best when she described what happens when she reads his writing: Guffaw, guffaw, guffaw, awwww.....Ryan writes about his life with the right mix of honesty, self-deprecation and raunchy humour. He'll make you laugh, he'll make you cry, and he'll make you want to regurgitate his words.

If he knew I was gushing on and on about his work here, he'd probably blush a bit more in his already rosy cheeks and say, "Aw, shucks." Well, too bad, Maloney. I'm plugging your blog, and you best be ready to rouge more.

Now, if you'll take a walk down television memory lane with me, do you remember that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry dates a woman with enormous man hands? And that scene where she rips open a lobster with her bare hands?

Well, that's exactly how I feel right now wearing my current pair of gloves. See, I HATE gloves. I hate them because I don't like the way it makes my fingers feel alienated or the way it makes my hands look ginormous or how my pinky finger is always freezing and needs to sneak into my ring finger's section like a child sneaking into their sibling's bed just to get some extra warmth. And the reason why I'm wearing them is because my old pair of mittens have great big, gaping holes in them. I'm currently knitting a new pair of mittens, but it's taking me freakin' forever. And, because winter seems to be back, I need something on my paws, so I've resorted to the gloves.

Perhaps these monolith hands will help build bigger snowmen and snowballs? Lord knows they make my snow angels look warped.