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Hi Aunt Becky!

Is there a way to subscribe to your blog via email?  I didn’t see it, but thought I’d ask on the off chance I missed it.


Dear Lisa,

Thank you for pointing that issue out. Like my blogroll, which has gone missing, I think the email subscription is now back in black. Er…no. But it’s back. Go to the bottom of my sidebar and you’ll see it.


Dear Aunt Becky,

Lately my best friend has been analyzing my relationship with my boyfriend and has deemed him unworthy of my time. I strongly disagree with her as I know for a fact that her idea of a relationship is vastly different than mine and that I am QUITE happy in my relationship.

See, I believe a relationship is a two-way street, we both give and we both take. My boyfriend is wonderful and always gives more than takes.

Her view of a relationship is that the female (aka herself) is the end all be all and if it isn’t her way, then it’s the highway. Her current boyfriend has bought her a car, paid for her school’s tuition, let her room in his house for 8 months without doing anything for the household and currently buys her and her family food. I cannot think of one thing that she has given him besides her time.

Because my boyfriend does not do all of this for me (heaven forbid that he works and makes money that he saves so that we can own a house one day!) she believes I am unhappy.

She’s so convinced that I need a new bf who will do this for me that a few weeks ago she told me about a guy who wants to take me out for coffee and she told me I should do it – while I’m still with my bf!

Now, I know our ideas of relationships are different, and I know she is looking out for the best of me but how do I tell her that I value our friendship but I want her to back the fuck off of me so that I can be happy with my bf?

Dear Prankster,

I would tell your best friend exactly what you think, since she seems to have no trouble telling you what she thinks. There are no two relationships that are exactly the same – nor should they be. That’d be like expecting that every brunette is brilliant or every blond is ditzy.

If you’re not unhappy in your relationship – which it sounds like you’re not – tell her so and if she insists that you are, ask her politely to drop the matter. There’s no reason to debate this. You’re not unhappy. Period. Back off. Period.

You don’t have to be a bitch about it, just tell her the truth.

Good luck, Prankster.

Dear Aunt Becky,

Let me start by saying that I love my husband.  

We’ve been married for almost 15 years and have 4 kids.  He is my best friend.  Truly.  But.  There’s always a but, right?  I have had this on and off contact  (via mail or email only – no phone, no face to face ever) with my high school boyfriend for oh, the last 20 years.  This isn’t a “reconnected on facebook now want to dump my husband” thing.  This is an, “I have loved this guy for over half of my life, what do I do now” thing.  

I have always been a very private person. I have always kept a lot to myself.  My husband was aware of the deep connection I had with my HS BF, even knew that we kept in touch for several years into our marriage.  He was not threatened by this, as the HS BF lives about 2000 miles away.  There have been times when we wouldn’t be in touch for a couple of years, but then, with a random email or a text – we pick right back up where we left off.  I have never physically been unfaithful to my husband.

This feels unfaithful though, and I am horrified.  I feel like within the past year, the (virtual) relationship with the HS BF has taken a turn, and we’ve become much closer.  

He wants to see me.  

Can you be in love with two people?  I know you are going to say I am a terrible wife, mother, friend.  I know you are going to say that there is a reason we broke up in the first place, I KNOW all of that in my heart.  But I cannot seem to let this guy go!  What is wrong with me??  I KNOW that seeing him can only hurt someone that I honest to God love deeply, my best friend, my husband.  And my kids.  I’m so lost.  I feel so selfish.  I think about my HS BF constantly.  We chat (virtually) every day.  It’s like I have compartmentalized these two relationships, and I am afraid to make any decisions. I do not want to lose my HS BF.  Please, please just be mean to me and tell me I’m scum.  I’m so ashamed.  But I can’t walk away from either of them.

I don’t know what to do…

Dear Prankster,

I don’t think you’re scum. I don’t even think you’re mean – I think you’re confused. And understandably so.

However, you need to take stock of your virtual relationship with your high school boyfriend and decide what it is, really, that you’re getting out of it. Is it an escape? A friendship? Someone who makes you feel special?

Once you do some deep soul-searching, I think you need to come clean to each of them. Yeah, I know, it sounds scary as fuck, but you don’t have much of a choice. Let me tell you that living a life of duplicity isn’t exactly easy or fun. So stop doing it.

Take some time off to just think. Don’t contact your high school boyfriend, take a weekend away to a nice hotel WITHOUT HIM IN IT and just THINK. What is it that you want? What will make you happy? What do you need?

Once you can answer these questions, I think you’ll be able to see what it is you must do next.

There I was, sitting in my homeroom, trying to see how quickly I could write “Becky Rules” on my desk without being caught, when the teacher said, “Now kids, it’s time for us to meet our new teacher. It’s Officer Malone!”

We were enchanted. A real cop. In OUR presence! Not arresting us or even asking who had spray painted “STC Suckz!” on the playground (it was Jimmy).

He spoke.

“Welcome to DARE!”

(cool, I thought, DARE sounds awfully kicky! Like a superhero or something)

“Do you know what DARE stands for?” he continued.

(no, no I didn’t.)

“Drug Abuse Resistance Education!”

(well, I thought. That sounds RIDICULOUS. That barely even makes sense)

I opened my mouth to tell him so when I realized he could probably arrest me for insubordination. I shut my mouth and tried not to roll my eyes.

“From now on, we’ll have this box,” he gestured to a box in front of him. “To allow you to anonymously report any suspicious activity you’ve seen.”

(Wait a minute, I thought. Now we’re narcs?*)

We went on to learn about drugs. I was, for the first time in years, fascinated. You mean these drugs CAN MAKE ME SEE SHIT THAT’S NOT THERE? COLOR ME IN!

Week after blissful week, we learned about drugs and their effects. For the first time ever, I took judicious notes.

I can successfully attribute DARE to what I like to call “The Lost Girl Years.” Because who DOESN’T want to see shit that’s not there? Or feel blissfully happy? Or SEE SHIT THAT’S NOT THERE? Jesus wept.

I learned later that they disbanded DARE because a) it didn’t work and 2) it made a fuckton of kids (including Your Aunt Becky) WANT to do drugs.

This is why I was surprised when my son brought home paperwork from The New DARE which is called something like, “We’re Not DARE,” or “DARE V2.o,” or “We’re SO Not DARE, Please Don’t Cut Our Funding.”

I wonder how long The New Dare will be a part of the curriculum before it’s proved to cause a new generation of kids to snort toilet bowl cleaner or linked to zoophilia or something.

And I can only hope that my kid doesn’t try to turn me in for gratuitous overuse of the word “fuck.” Because I would be SO busted. Because really, who wants their kid to become a narc?

Answer: NOT ME.

*My parents were hippies. I knew what a narc was before I could shit in the toilet.

It may shock and sadden you, Pranksters, that I was once neither Your Aunt Becky nor a mother. It’s hard to believe, so I understand if you need a couple of minutes to compose yourself.




Done? Okay.

Approximately 383 sesquillion years ago, the girl who will be known as Your Aunt Becky went away to college. She packed all of her stuff into the back of her friend Scottie’s hot purple Neon and trundled off (very quickly) to college in the city. Loyola University Chicago, for those in the un-know.

Well, Loyola made a very, VERY grave error in judgement. They paired me with someone who I was so utterly unlike that it was a hot mess from the get go.

The first time I met my college roommate, she smelled like meat (she worked in a deli) which wasn’t too bad. What was too bad is that she was the most over-prepared person I’d met. If you know me, Pranksters, you know that I’m not exactly…*ahem* PREPARED. I’m not going to say that I fly by the seat of my pants because that’s not quite true, but I’m a definite Type B.

Sometimes (like in the case of Crys, Ben and Jana, my counterparts on Band Back Together), it works well. They can Type A me into submission whereas I can remind them that color-coding properly isn’t exactly a worthwhile investment of time.


But the true horror of my college roommate came to light when Scottie and I – both very drunk on vodka (which we were hilariously pronouncing with a very bad Russian accent) – moved my piles of crap into my room.

The door shut behind me, I looked at it to see that my roommate had decorated it. The quotes and the like weren’t exactly awful (albeit a little cornball). And there, in the middle of the door, it sat.

Three Family Circus cartoons.

There’s NOTHING I hate more, Pranksters, than Family Circus cartoons, with the exception of Precious Moments figurines, and GAH! next to those, were a couple of Precious Moment cartoons.

I died.

I literally died on the floor, laughing and crying. I mean, just, NO. We were 19, not 69. How was I gonna get laid with Grandma’s cartoons staring at me creepily?

It turned out, of course, that our relationship was not meant to be. She was too control-freak and I, well, I got knocked up and had to go home to pop out a crotch parasite. She meant well and all, but I couldn’t overlook the Family Circus crap. Could you?

(the answer should be a resounding no)(possibly a FUCK NO)

So thanks, Jason, for the flashbacks.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to vomit up what’s left of my breakfast.

Dish, Pranksters. Do you have any awesome roommate stories for Your Aunt Becky?

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