You Know What I Mean?
Meet Houston's new advice columnist: A problem solver for the Twitter age
We all know what's best for you.
At least we figure we do. And the hordes of you with guilty consciences, thoughts that keep you up at night, pens, papers, and now keyboards have dumped your deepest fears and darkest concerns into the laps of those esteemed advice columnists throughout the years, wishing and hoping for a solid solution to hang your hat on.
They've delivered. And now it's my turn.
Houston, we have an advice columnist. Say hello to my brand new column, "You Know What I Mean?"
Hit me with your best shot. I want to be your hometown Dear Abby.
Send me an e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org, and let me take a crack at your problems. I promise, the truth won't hurt. Too much.
You say you've swindled resources from the non-profit agency for which you are the treasurer to pay your electricity bill before your power gets cut off? I'm going to straighten you out.
You say your best friend's husband is a vocalist in a simply awful a cappella trio, yet you feel forced to attend every performance because she babysits your children for free? I'll help you break the news.
I won't tackle your medical, legal, or financial dilemmas — those are best left to the professionals (the ones with licenses to practice in said fields, unlike yours truly).
But if you're flummoxed as to who to talk to about your co-worker's strange habit of berating you in front of the boss, or you find yourself conflicted about your girlfriend's swinging past, I'm your girl.
So ask me your questions at email@example.com (or through comments on this post, Facebook or Twitter). But ask like you mean it — e-mail cannot be taken back once submitted. And remember, by sending your questions to me, you're telling CultureMap it's cool to publish it. We'll protect your identities, though, and we may edit your requests if deemed necessary.
I'm cheaper than your shrink and more candid than your mother. Go ahead. Ask for my advice. I'll begin unraveling your personal mysteries next week.
Until then, get into plenty of trouble and tell me about it. Because if you're all perfect little angels, the advice columnist breed will die a slow, horrible death.
Don't be the cause for the extinction of an entire species. Go on and lead a dysfunctional life. No judgment here. Advice columnist's honor.