Miss April Advises: CF – My Boyfriend’s Fiance

Dear Miss April

You probably read this a few times before…

I need your precious advice, i’m friends with this sweet caring guy for a few months now, we both live and work in the same place and yes i’m one of those dedicated friends who’s ready to help with anything… plus we had chemistry with that we got closer to the point of kissing once, aware that he has a girlfriend, i made it clear that it was a spur of the moment act and it can’t happen again he told me he thinks his in love with me.. but i couldnt say the same because i felt it was too soon to be sure of that and i am seeing other guys aswell a few days ago he went home for holidays and recently his girlfriend texts me asking me questions about my age and what kind of relationship i have with him… she said she saw his phone and we chat alot but its always sweet friendly conversations it was the first time i spoke to her, she told me they are getting married soon and since they have a distant relationship its hard for her and she wanted to quit this relationship because she thought he was cheating on her with me. she asked me not to tell him that she texted me. i said i knew about her and i insisted we are just friends, and she can’t quit because he really likes her and i know all about them but i honestly dont know, i had no idea they’re getting married! i didnt know it was as serious as the way she describes… i dont want to be the reason they break up. I think he likes me but we dont have a future together and she is probably expecting i should get away from him… its her right, she is the girlfriend, for his happiness i can back away but i don’t know how because i dont want to hurt him.

she still keeps on texting me, asking me if he ever told me anything about her and saying “maybe i am placing you in a complicated situation, but please try to understand my side”

can i ignore her or speak to her and answer her anything she wants to know i want to help but i fear she starts to harass me or makes me feel guilty because i don’t know her… should i tell him about it?

please please lighten my burden miss April 😦

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Dear Miss CF

Other people’s fiances do not make good boyfriends.

Young lady, the first step you have to take in order to make good decisions is to be honest with yourself. Is your dedication to the friendship not slightly tinged with attraction? Your practical side declares that you have no future together. However, here we find you, in the midst of a traditional turmoil of the trio.

I suggest to you to ignore excuses. It is the coward’s path to avoid difficult situations with the pleasing excuse of not wanting to hurt others. Perhaps concentrate more on what is the most honourable act to undertake, because I assure you people are already hurting. If his fiance is forced to approach you with such candor, this speaks of her inability to find the honesty and reassurance from him. This does not have to be your problem at all, but you obviously do feel some responsibility and empathy. I would suggest you respond to her as you yourself would want to be treated in that situation. I would suggest you have every right to be as equally honest with him. I also suggest that you then leave them be. Ultimately, they should be speaking with each other and you should not be involved in what is essentially an intimate affair of the heart.

Personally I find it quite astonishing that an obviously dishonest young man can allure two seemingly open and thoughtful young women! In both friendship and marriage, your partner’s character is key. As always, don’t shy from the probing analyses of yourself and others.

Well wishes to you all.
Yours,
Miss April

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Miss April Advises: H – A Respected Friend

Hi April

i will try to be quick.

i kissed a guy who is in a relationship with someone else, and i told him i have a boyfriend too but its not serious… but i don’t. this guy happens to work with this other amazing guy.. Andre that i wish was mine and i was expecting i would meet him and sweep him off his feet but now that i kissed his colleague who has a girlfriend i don’t know my chances.

it didn’t want to make him cheat his girlfriend.. i did help him a lot recently and maybe thats why he felt attracted to me but it wasn’t my intention i really care about what his friends think of me and i wonder if there is any way i can still keep my image as a decent respected friend..

any advice in how i should handle this situation.. please

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Dearest Sweet H

I am wildly assuming from your sleight of hand that you are of a younger generation to my good self by at least a century or thereabouts. So, you can imagine my delight that your misdemeanour did not contain the vileness that is sexting, nor the obscene modern obsession with over-sharing. A kiss. A simple kiss. Something so innocent, so easily overcome. Yet, you realise that might not be so. A kiss always has meaning – ever so shallow or ever so full.

Why did you kiss him? Why did you lie about having a boyfriend? These are of course completely rhetorical questions. I confess I don’t happen to be that interested in the answers myself, but you should inspect your motivations and know thyself. Those who know themselves can often solve their own problems, and make much better decisions next time.

I feel your regret, but what has happened cannot be undone. To appease your guilt, and to salvage your friendship with Mr Kisser, tell him the truth or close to it. Make light of it, let him know that you still like him as a friend and how foolish it was that you kissed each other. What a harmless, silly mistake say you with a laugh. Oh yes I agree, hopefully he will say feeling relieved that you won’t tell his girlfriend. Tell him that it was a spur of the moment act which neither of you want to repeat, but you value his friendship and hope you both can get over this mishap. Do not apologise. You have done no more wrong than he, and do not let your regret take on the burden of complete responsibility.

How to explain the nonexistent boyfriend? Hmm, this is tricky. It will look rather strange if you admit you lied about having a boyfriend, but then if he believes you have a boyfriend then he might tell Andre, and then they will think you are 1. unavailable for a serious relationship and 2. unfaithful. This is the gist of your worry? I say, go for complete back down. Come clean, let him know that you don’t really have a boyfriend and you are embarrassed to have said it, and not sure why you did. For that fib, say sorry. You thereby place yourself in a position of discomfort, this is not easy and does display a fine character. If a friend can not appreciate this, and forgive, then perhaps he was no friend to begin with. Don’t dwell on it though. This phase will pass.

The difference in your behaviour now will reflect the difference in your true intent. Do you want to save your image of being a decent and respected friend? Or, do you want to actually be a decent and respected friend? The former provides leeway for deception; the latter’s demands are more rigorous and true. One rule of thumb, simple but effective, treat your friend as you hope a friend would treat you. This ensures that whatever the outcome, you at least know you have done your best.

Best of luck in friendship and love,
Yours,
Miss April
Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips – Shelley

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Miss April Advises: Big G – Tracy Emin and the Clap.

hey Miss A,
You seem to know about this art caper.
Ive been snogin on Tracy Emin for a coupla weeks.
How long b4 I end up on a quilt or somethin?
The dude needs props.

yours
Big G
aka the clap

Tracey Emin, title is self-explanatory,

Tracey Emin, title is self-explanatory.

Dear Big G aka the clap

I am not sure how to express in writing an uncomfortable silence. However, that silence has provided me with the time to process your most peculiar turn of phrase and attempt to translate this into proper English. Thank you for providing me with the exposure to something altogether new and peculiarly ugsome.

I am a lady, and as such am a firm believer in the adage that one must ‘never kiss and tell’. With this in mind, your ability to freely proclaim your love-making attempts with this Miss Emin seems most insincere. This is worrying, for I am a fervent champion of the authentic. This leads me to believe the authentic feeling in your situation is solely to be on a quilt? Is that right? The kissing is not so important, the relationship is not so important, the emotion is not so important, but you are quite fond of quilting? N’est-ce pas? Is it cross-stitching, appliqué, or crochet, that fires your passions?

I actually know very little about ‘art’ bar my exposure to the piety of glistening white flesh and ecstatic rapture that adorned my hometown Cathedral. My competence is to be found in cool observation and rational analysis. That being said, I decided to sashay down to the reference library for a swift education in Emin and quilts. Lo and behold, my respect for the art of Gesamtkunstwerk and all, am I really forced into creating profundity myself given such paltry ingredients? I thought the exalted discipline of the arts was meant to do that illustrious work itself. Lamentably, the public parading of therapy is such a popular 20th century malaise, driven to grotesque proportions in the latter decades and beyond. It feels most uncomfortable to feel both saddened by the desperate celebration of self-loathing, while simultaneously suspecting I am a witness to Narcissus him/herself. The bright lights are certainly blinding.

‘Tis the age of self-indulgence and vanity; art in the name of cause célèbre. So, yes, little clap, you do need props. Best you get them yourself. Best you come up with some ideas and leave damaged millionairesses alone. You have moral turpitude on your side, so celebrity should not be too hard to find. Why I suspect you might already be smeared and appliqued into notoriety. Dignity and artistry though, might have escaped quite a distance along another path.

Don’t go spreading,
Yours,
Miss April

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Resolutely Resolved Resolutions to All, and a Happy New Year!

Thank you for another year of visiting us and glancing upon our humble words. In suitable tradition our annual list appears courtesy of the MOLAM contributors. Let us know if any are added to yours!

1. Gesamtkunstwerk.
2. Dedicate more time to personal grooming, adhering to the ‘not a hair out of place’ rule.
3. Do not rush; ladies never rush.
4. Become more vocally less tolerant of intolerance.
5. Carry a folding hand fan within one’s purse at all times during the warmer months.
6. Commit to said hand fan for personal cooling incorporating a dancer’s-like grace to the flick, open and flutter as a public performance.
7. Louis Vuitton products post-1936 will no longer burn one’s eyes; they are deemed invisible from this day henceforth.
8. Balance one’s library realistically between the aspirational book acquisition proudly displayed and the well-read secret pleasures that win no favours at dinner parties but genuinely satisfy one’s heart and mind.
9. Lovingly finish the beautiful hand-knitted scarf dedicated to the vulnerable neck of one’s new born baby; for God’s sake they’re 7 years old now.
10. Cucumber sandwiches.

VictorianNewYear

We wish you a most satisfying 2014 whereby your desires for a safe and prosperous future for yourselves and loved ones articulates itself into valiant and meaningful action for the future of all. Bottoms Up!

Miss April Advises: Con Stipation & the Case of the Missing PM

Dear Miss April,

I was wondering if you could put your super sleuth skills or powers of divination to use. The Prime Minister seems to be missing.
Not that I want to find him, unless it was under Joe Hockey in a shallow/ not so shallow grave. [just kidding CIA guys].

What concerns me is that at a time like this that he couldnt crawl out from under his rock [aka Joe hockey] to say something , even something consoling or affirming , about the terrible plight of the people of the Phillipines after the “off the scale” typhoon.

I mean its in Asia [right?] and we rely on them terribly. So does the government.

The government relies on China buying Gina’s minerals. They really want Indonesia to hide the thing that shames Australians so. I dont mean refugees, no, I mean generousity or even that icky area, compassion. The country is awash with live livestock that need to be shipped off. Dont forget cheap holidays either.

After the beach bogans all spent a quid for the other less radio-active tsnumami, surely the head bogan could speak up on behalf of the holiday-ready masses and offer assistance to another nation girthed by surf beaches. The base and gritty commonality surely should get Tones into a speedo to announce that some peoples Xmas plans will be interupted by this awful natural disaster. By natural we obviously mean made by god [not science or global warming or brown coal or dredging the barrier reef to exploit toxic fracking income]. Lets get the public announcement back in public service.

Please, do you know where he is? I’m dying to hear what hes got to say.

Regards

Con Stipation.

tonyandgina

Tony and Gina – do they eat enough fibre?

Dear Con Stipation

I do beg your pardon, I’m rather harried you see. Since I received your correspondence I have been actively seeking our Prime Minister in every logical location with no success. I have returned to my secretaire to respond to you and confess my failings. Here I sit, my ankle boots soiled beyond repair, my petticoats disgracefully muddied, my hair has fallen and caught twigs in its slovenly web. I am a disorderly disgrace.

I started merrily enough, scoffing at your histrionics. I reached for the closest broadsheet smug in my knowledge that my fearless leader will be outspoken in his empathy and active aid, putting you naysayer to shame. He is a Christian after all. After much ruffling I felt a slight unease – where was his stoic face??

I wasted no time. I knew exactly what would drag him away from his glorious duties. I flew in a modern air bus to Warsaw. Rest assured Mr Stipation, my Tony knows the importance of representing our country on the world stage; especially when our neighbours need us so much. At one point I thought I saw him from behind – ‘my lord, my lord!’ I cried. I reached for him, his tightly wound up, fraught body only inches away. Quelle horreur! It was not the hero that has won the hearts of Australians. I found myself holding hands with an extraordinarily well recompensed chap sent here to do the good work of the new minority – vilified multinational fossil fuel corporations. God speed heroes. God speed.

Panic had started to set in by this stage. Good God, the thought of letting one of my readers down was too much for my poor shoulders to bear. I even went along to the Treasury Gardens the other morn, expecting my master of men to be there teaching those Greenies a thing or two, and explaining calmly the sound science of his advisor Andrew Bolt, so we can all stop worrying and start spending!  Alas, Con, I was perplexed. Look, I don’t approve of hippies. What with their sensual drumming and middle-class fire-twirling. So I was shocked to find that all of these lefty-hippy types who are so rightly condemned within impartial Murdoch media networks looked altogether rather average. By golly, I think I saw Myrtle from church! There were twinsets (?!) ; quite a number of grey-haired retirees, and a large smattering of smartly dressed families. Their messages  all seemed so sensible and necessary.  This was becoming a true mystery.

I am not one to surrender Con Stipation. I march on! I decided to write to my good friend and neighbour President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono to enlist his assistance to track down Tony. Well, I never. When I finally received his return correspondence the profanity was so shocking I had to immediately reach for the Tip Ex to whitewash the offending words. What on earth has happened there! Our fine leader, the good, hard-working Tony, the man who can make a smile look like a murder attempt, is unpopular? It’s been less than 3 sodding months!

It is only just now, Con, that I have finally solved the mystery for you. He is cheating on us – with Gina. My favourite Maitre D’ discretely informed me of his current whereabouts. An exclusive rendezvous. Just friends. No ramifications, no consequences. Just lusty lipped kisses, bulging wallets and handshakes. Oh Con, I think I really got the wrong end of the stick with this lot. He’s missing you say? I only pray they all disappear, all that glitters is not gold Con Stipation, and knowing what’s on this menu we might need a bit more roughage before we can expel this lot out.

My dear Tony is absent, he leads me not.

Yours,
Miss April

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Miss April Advises: Winny Sayer – Racing day shoe dilemma.

Dear Miss April,

Before i head out the gate for Melbourne Cup , I have a small problem regarding foot wear, on which I’d like to consult you.
A flat is obviously sensible on the turf but does nothing for the accentuation of ones calves. I have lovely fetlocks and am keen to show them off . A lovely heel would of course limit ones access to terrain and if the track is wet one may end up a bit further into it turf than expected. Nothing fascinating about that!

All that said , I’m considering a brown shoe. Are brown shoes confusing?

Not long now ’til the train departs to Flemmington [ or Barfington as its sometimes known afterwards] so your timely advice would be appreciated.

Fond Regards

Winny Sayer.

Horseshoe

Winny – yay.

horseheels

Winny – neigh.

Dear Winny Sayer

It was a most typically Melbourne Spring day. The winds were confident, the rain was temporarily resting and the sun had jumped us rather bullishly. My listless stroll was excited by an unusual scene. A young lady and her handsomely attired escort were walking ahead. Her fine lace dress, certainly cut too high and the colour rather too on the electric side of blue to be respectable, was nonetheless an appealing attempt. Things were awry though. Her dress shoes were in her hand. Her feet? Naked. Her elegant hat did not exist except within the realm of my expectations – a plucked feather was her only head attire. Her carefully painted face had been smudged by running tears, her beauty villified by a grimace of despair encouraged by an excess of imbibing. Her hapless chap, loyal but confused. Was this a dream? No Winny, ’tis racing season.

Darling Winny, not only are brown shoes confusing, to even consider donning them on your fetlocks is a travesty and a disgrace. You may gaily wear umber, burnt sienna, cacao, puce and possibly even ecru to be audaciously challenging. But not brown, never brown.

In response to your dilemma between flats and heels, can you please clarify – will you be observing the race, or will you be in it? Winny, are you a horse?

I’m sure your fetlocks are amazing, and heels do accentuate them (not to mention tightening up those haunches you cheeky equid!). But if you are actually IN the race…you know, galloping down the track, than heels are a resounding no-no. Imagine if you’re stiletto got stuck in the mud! Quelle horreur!

Vanity is one thing, pride another. Flats for you on racing day my dear!

Give my best to Rainbow Dash, yours in equine bliss,
Miss April

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Miss April Advises: Cy Lently sealed lips.

Dear Miss April,

I havent seen your informative epistles in some time. In fact there been nothing since the election.
Has there been a gag order put on you too?
Have you been outspoken on climate change, refugees, anti corruption or cosmetic ear surgery in some other forum?
It is the fashion to crack down on common sense, but , I hope you can repsond if even in code or in the the inscrutible emotion transmitting medium of poetry.

Our lips are sealed.

Cy Lently

Dear Cy Lently

I receive your words of concern with bashful pleasure. My musings have been solitary and internal, and while I fancy myself to be achieving most distinguished logical conclusions I now realise I have been neglecting my Christian duties to my faithful readers.

Nary a day passes that one may not find me layed upon my Chinoiserie chaise longue. My furrowed brow betrays my inner turmoil. Alas, there is before us the perfect storm. From every direction falderal and intimidation pursue us. We, the humanists, the logicians, the empaths, scientists, artists, advice columnists, the wise, the dumb and the living; are at the mercy of the walking dead. Common sense you say? What need have we of common sense Sir Lently when we have diamonds? Well, perhaps not all of us, I mean some of us have to toil the earth. We all have our roles you know. And certainly those imperious diamond keepers won’t live forever, and most assuredly neither will we, but isn’t it worth it? Just for one man, for one day, to say “notice me and marvel at my importance, I have a massive diamond”, while the rest of our kingdoms collapses into the void. Alas or no, he too shall inevitably slide after us into the maelstrom.

Ugh. How utterly dreary. I owe you a wealth of gratitude Cy Lently. You have awakened me from my somnambulism. Silence, although powerful, essential and undoubtedly elegant, can at times be the Sword of Damocles to the thinkers among us. Time to find our voices methinks. Would you care to join me?

Clawing my way back up the slide, yours,
Miss April

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