Let's face facts. Annie's Mailbox, or whatever poor excuse for an advice column your newspaper is publishing, just doesn't compare to the late Anne Landers or her sister. Check out The Vine and try, just try, to suppress the giggles when Sars gives a much-needed smackdown to a clueless/spineless/selfish advice seeker.

Thing that's bothering me today: My nails. Damn they're long. When did that happen?

I started playing with my hair last night after washing my face, trying to pull it up in a cute way like I see other girls wearing their hair. It's still a mystery to me. I've let my hair grow out quite long over the last few months. But I can't actually do anything to it beyond throwing it up in a ponytail. I complained to SkooterPie about it, whining that I never learned how to do these girly things with my hair. He expressed disbelief that I grew up in McMinnville, in his words the "home of the banana clip," and never learned how to style my hair. Then he threw out the fact that I had been a cheerleader, and didn't we all sit around at slumber parties fixing each others' hair? I should have told him we didn't have time to between all the hot cheerleader on cheerleader action, but I always think of these great comebacks too late. But I did roll my eyes at him hard. What leaves me wide-eyed is the casual way some girls can pull up their hair, resulting in a style that wouldn't be at all out of place in a beauty pageant. I've seen girls twist up their hair and keep it that way for several hours using only a pencil. I've even seen them do this while driving a car and chattering away on a cell phone. My hair is jealous.