Dear Frida

Questions are trickling into my mailbag and I’ve collected enough of them to introduce a new feature: an Ask Frida column. But it comes with a warning…I’m abdicating all responsibility for my answers. I shall not be held accountable for their tone, efficacy, or people’s behavior resulting from obeying my orders, er, advice.

I shall iterate, lest it slip your minds, that Frida is neither a licensed or trained professional in the medical, mental or culinary fields. However, a fashion police badge can be found in my over-sized bag, so beware.

Some of you might wonder why this Everyday Anthropologist, a self-proclaimed student of human behavior, is considering helping others suss it out.

For two elemental reasons: One, I’ve discovered that most of us are struggling with one area or another, and two, people keep asking.

Okay, I admit it - I’m socially awkward. On the other hand, as much as human behavior puzzles, it has also been said that I have an ability to laugh inappropriately at problems while simultaneously offering strange comfort.

Okay, ready for this week’s experimental grab bag?

Dear Frida,
While eating dinner at a friend’s house the host was holding court, and us hostage, with stories from his work. Suddenly I noticed he had the biggest nostrils I’d ever seen in my life. I’m talking sarcastically large, like he could fit a wine cork in each one. Excited, I got up from the table and opened random drawers, looking for a ruler. When I finally found one, I began measuring his enormous nose holes. Was that rude, or should I have waited until he was finished talking?
Curious

Dear Curious,
I suggest you stick a cork in it!

Dear Frida,
My dog recently chomped down on my little finger. In the subsequent days that have passed, my pinky is grotesquely swollen, I can’t bend it, it looks like little worms are crawling out of it, my entire arm is red and it hurts worse than when I donated a kidney or had two grapefruit-sized tumors removed from my belly. Should I go to the doctor’s or wait until the infection has tunneled its way to the bone, then have emergency surgery with the possibility of amputation, spend a few days in the hospital, and have a PIC line implanted in my other arm all the way to my heart for broad-spectrum antibiotics?
Sign me,
Actually Insured in America

Dear Actually Insured in America,
Well, that depends entirely upon your schedule. Is there anything impending that you would like to avoid, say, a family wedding? If you ignore the wound long enough, you can finesse it to get out of In-law patrol. Or, if it’s not schedule-dependant, consider if you’ll actually need your finger, hand, or arm for anything in the future. If you don’t anticipate using them, or if the pain isn’t driving you, by all means, save the gas and time getting to the doctor and instead, savor away your afternoon eating chocolate and watching soaps.

Dear Frida,
I tend to vacillate in the weight department and I’m tired of cinching up my dresses or letting them out depending on the fat factor. Any suggestions?
Feeling Frumpy

Dear Feeling Frumpy,
Here’s a simple solution. Make an appointment at your local piercing store and have them install permanent corset hooks into your back and then you can save gobs of time by threading colorful ribbons through the metal, allowing you to cinch up your fat rather than all your pretty fabrics.

Dear Frida,
Last week I bumped into an acquaintance I hadn’t seen for about 12 months. The last time I spoke with him, he was a bi-ped, but now he’s mysteriously transformed into a double amputee. Should I have whistled gaily while avoiding eye contact and asked, “Hey, how’s it going, what’s new?” Or jump right in and casually point to the two shiny nubbins with jagged scars and the wheelchair and say, “What’s with the new ride?”
Call me Stumped

Dear Stumped,
As one who has spent a wee bit of time in a wheelchair myself, most folks try to dance around the subject, so the next time you see him, ask if he got a two-for-one deal.

Dear Frida,
On Mother’s Day, I took mine for a stroll and we passed a Japanese tea ceremony in progress. Although it was occurring in public, we stood to the side so as not to interrupt. A Japanese woman in kimono knelt on the ground, whipping a bowl of tea into a frenzy. Although I wanted to pay close attention to her every movement, a gentleman in the place of honor was digging for gold in his nasal cavity. The first time he pulled a large strawberry from his nose, I shook my head to relieve the cobwebs, for I could not believe what I was seeing, but the second time he went mining and pulled yet another strawberry from his proboscis I looked at my mother in horror only to see the exact same expression on her face. Since I know you’ve been to Japan recently and attended a tea ceremony, would you explain what that part meant?
Culturally Unprepared

Dear Culturally Unprepared,
The frothy ceremonial green tea can taste quite bitter and attractive sweets are a part of the ritual to soothe the tongue. However, I would avoid eating anything that gentleman might offer.

Well, that’s it for this week’s mailbag. If any of you have more questions, please email them directly to Frida.Chiquita.Kahlo@gmail.com . If they are quirky or awkward enough, then I might just use them. I do my best work when I’m cranky or PMSing, so pretty much anytime.

Go ahead, take my advice… I’m not using it anyway.