Dear Ruby,
I am interested in volunteering, but I have a problem. I am too shy. The idea of walking into a soup kitchen or a hospital and offering help is embarrassing to me. When I mentioned this to a friend, she said, “Stop being shy! Just get out there and help people!” I felt bad about it.

I’m honestly not lazy, I’m just not a joiner. I can’t even go to church because I hate all the ‘fellowship’ stuff. But, I genuinely want to contribute to a worthy cause. Any ideas?

Shy in Milwaukee

Dear Shy in Milwaukee,
First of all, the proper response to your friend is, “Stop being an insensitive dink.” And then see whether that works. Probably not.

You are not alone, Shy Guy. It’s impossible to tell how many humans fall into the non-joiner category (because you can’t get them all into one room), but trust me, they’re out there. Tell your friend that there are good reasons for shyness — including evolution. Perhaps your shy ancestors were the ones who decided to stay home instead of visiting that new tribe in the next village — the new tribe with all the shiny machetes. Or, maybe your ancestors decided to skip church on “Bless your Buboes” day. For the most part, being shy and retiring keeps you out of all kinds of trouble.

But, there’s a tradeoff. It’s important to realize that anxiety, including social anxiety, can worsen over time and cause real problems for you. If it’s interfering with your work, preventing you from seeking help for personal issues, turning into a phobia, or if you’re very lonely and unhappy, then it’s no longer functional and you need to seek help somehow.

But, in your case, if you just don’t want to subject yourself to needlessly uncomfortable situations, then don’t. There are a surprising amount of volunteer opportunities for shy folks — for one, try the Virtual Projects section of SmartVolunteer.org, where there’s a long list of ways you can donate your skills from your home, usually involving a computer.

If you think you might want a more hands-on project, think about what you’re willing to put up with and how much structure you’re willing to abide. Some shy people find it easier to work with kids or animals — though you will probably still have to deal with an adult administrative component, and maybe attend meetings or training. Public libraries often depend heavily on volunteers and would undoubtedly find you a quiet place in the stacks. A sneaky way might be to take a part-time job for an organization you admire and then donate your paycheck, even anonymously. It goes without saying that shy people (otherwise known as Anonymous Donors) keep the wheels of philanthrophy greased, rotated, inflated, and rolling.

Good luck, Shy Guy. And a shout-out to all the clubs and congregations and associations out there — have you given any careful thought to how your more introverted brethren can contribute to your good work? Why the hell not?

Got all the answers? Yeah, right. Ask Ruby.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

I don’t know about you, but I’m about green, cheap and healthy-ed out.

I’m sick of being good and sober and frugal and low-carb. If I read one more post about composting or tips on clipping coupons, I’m going to puke. Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly decided to go out clubbing baby seals or even go out clubbing. I’m just ready for a little luxury. It’s freaking cold outside where I live, and it’s not so warm inside. It’s also mostly dark, and did I mention going back to work and school after vacation sucks?

Here’s what I’m going to do about it. Why don’t you join me?

1. Creme de cacao. The DrinksMixer website has about 40 things you can do with a 8 dollar bottle of this mid-winter liquid goodness. We just poured it over ice cream growing up in my family. Yep, I had a cool mom. Gets much more mileage than leftover Christmas candy.
2. Amy’s Pesto Tortellini. It’s not cheaper than a Happy Meal, it’s not particularly healthy with all the cheese and carbs and sodium, but it’s kinda green, being organic and all. Who cares? It rocks. Like, hide-it-in-the-freezer-from-your-husband kind of rocks. And, you can eat it for lunch at your desk and go home early. Take that, Regional Manager Man!
3. How’s this for a New Year’s resolution? I am never waking up my 14-year-old again. I’m not doing it. I’m sick of it. Most of the time I have to yell or throw pillows. It ruins my whole morning zen deal. I’m getting him a Clocky and if he breaks it, I’m taking the money out of his allowance. Take that, Freshman Sleepyhead Oppressor Man!
4. Gonna buy me some Macy’s clearance items. Might leave early tomorrow to do it.
5. Netflix’s Watch Instantly. Me, bed, Bailey’s, and BBC. Brilliant.

Still feeling deprived? One last luxury, Poems for a Long Winter Night.

Ruby wishes you all the best in 2009, but you should write her more. You know how she worries.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby,
I know this is a bad time to think about leaving my job, but I hate it and I don’t think I can stand it much longer. I have a micromanaging boss and some bad coworkers, but mostly I’m just tired of what I do. It’s office work and not very creative. I’ve been trying to stick it out, but I find myself surfing around online all day and I’m afraid that I’m going to get caught and fired before I find something better. Should I stay or should I go?

Ken

Dear Ken,
You didn’t tell me whether or not you are supporting a family, but I’m going to try to answer in a way that would address both situations — stay.

Put down the letter opener, I don’t mean forever. What I do mean is, end it like a man. End it honorably, like an agreement, like a marriage, like any obligation. You need a plan and a timetable, so I am providing you, free of charge, Ruby’s patented 3 Weeks to 2 Weeks’ Notice program:

Week 1: Get some real work done.
On Monday morning for two hours, figure out what you need to accomplish in the coming week to get caught up on your work, or at least close to it. Close your office door or tape off your cubicle opening, turn off your phone. You could even send out a “please do not disturb me from 8-10” email to those likely to disturb you. If your boss gives you crap about it, tell him or her that it’s something you read about in 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and you hope it will help you be more organized. It is likely that your screwing off has already been noted and this explanation will give your boss hope that you are getting back on track and that he or she will not have to fire you. It is false hope, but you don’t have to explain that.

I know what you’re thinking — if you could get yourself to work more you wouldn’t be in this position. The problem was that you weren’t incentivized. Here’s your incentive. After every 2 hours of work you complete, you get to spend 20 minutes on your resume and you get to pick one personal item to take home. Maybe it’s 20 minutes reading an online article about interviewing or maybe it’s 20 minutes of writing out a really flattering description of your current position. By the end of a week, you should have a spiffing resume in progress and a desk drawer or two cleaned out.

At night, it goes without saying, you’re Facebooking, LinkedInning, and hitting the job boards. Hard. But, only at home, where you have time to write carefully compelling cover letters and catch the errors before you hit “Submit.”

Week 2: Hanging curtains in the escape tunnel [Read more →]

Tags: advice, all work by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby,
My thirteen-year old refuses to accept any clothes from thrift stores anymore. I totally can’t afford to do the mall thing. He’s completely unreasonable about it. What do I do? I feel like his entire future social life depends on me dipping into our home equity fund to buy him Abercrombie.
Cherry

Oh, Cherry. Oh, Cherrrrry. Does anyone miss Steve Perry like I do?

Sorry, the point is that except for family funerals and weddings and professional portraits, thirteen-year-olds are legally emancipated from their parents’ fashion decisions as long as they’re not skanky. You can’t make them wear anything, really, and yet you must clothe them. Like, that is soo totally unfair.

You are required to clothe your children. You are not, however, required to clothe them in the style to which Tori Spelling is accustomed. Try to put $100 together and take yourself and your little ingrate to an acceptable mall, preferably with an outlet. And then you may have to sit in Starbucks while he wanders around in an agony of indecision and overstimulation until he finally blows it on probably only one piece of unattractive and inappropriate clothing. Then go home.

If there is any money left over, go to a very cheap outlet type place for whatever else he needs. Repeat when you can scrape together $100 again, twice a year is plenty. You may find that he will accept hand-me-downs from older, rock-star-type cousins if he has any. You may want to go find some new ones. Oh, and don’t ask his father to intervene, he won’t be any help.

The boy will get the message, or he’ll change his tune, or he’ll get a job. Win, win, win!

And, Cherry, baby, stop buying him anything right now. It’s painful, there are so many little polo shirts that would look darling on him, but it’s time to stop for a while. Whatever you buy — no matter how cool — he won’t wear. You’ve left your mark on it and to him it glows like a crime scene in black light.  He’s got to buy his own ugly crap for a little while — yes, with your money, more’s the pity.

The good news: rejecting free stuff from your parents is a phase that is over almost as soon as it starts.

Got a conundrum wrapped in an enigma and slathered with cheese sauce? Ask Ruby.

Tags: advice, fashion & clothing by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Broke? Busy? Too much shopping on too small a budget in too little time for too many people?

It sucks to be you. No, really, it does, I’m not kidding.

So, instead of telling you how to make rustic country napkin rings for your sister out of tinfoil and empty deodorant cans, I’m going to give you a gift, a 30-minute indulgence. It will be 30 minutes of luxurious solitude that is secret and serious and very cheap. Don’t tell anyone.

You need to shop for one gorgeous avocado that is darkly green and slightly tender. You need to also buy some decent tortilla chips, probably restaurant-style, with no added flavoring or nacho stuff on them. Add a lemon and some salsa if you don’t already have some at home. It will cost maybe $7.

Go home with your stuff and hide it in the garage or the dryer until you have half an hour of guaranteed alone-time. By which I mean alone.

When the time comes, follow these steps:

1. With a sharp knife, cut open the avocado length-wise and remove pit. Scoop out the green stuff with a spoon.
2. Mash green stuff in a bowl with a fork while squeezing lemon juice in it occasionally.
3. Stir in a tablespoon or two of salsa or picante sauce.
4. If you have cilantro lying around, cut some up and throw it in. Otherwise, just salt, pepper, a little hot sauce, maybe.
5. Eat the whole thing out of the bowl with your chips.
6. Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Do not share.

This will make up for the Wii you can’t find, the Wii you can’t afford, the dumb thing your mother-in-law is picking out for you right now, all those damn cookies you have to bake, the office party if you’re still employed, and maybe more. It’s full of good healthy stuff  so you won’t feel sick or guilty afterward. Really, humans were meant to eat entire avocados just like we eat entire apples — we’re just out of practice.

Why the secrecy? Because guacamole makes people greedy and selfish and you don’t need to see that right now. You are focused on the moment and the beauty and the splendor. You don’t have time for the darkness. You don’t have time for the panic. It’s your solitary time, to be spent any way you see fit. An entire avocado is just the catalyst. But, don’t substitute a diet mochacchino or a whole cheesecake or anything. Those are just karmic rubber bands that will come back and snap you on the ass.

Avocados are special. Solitary avocados create a spiritual barricade around your soul so that its pilot light doesn’t sputter out. This is a proven fact. Oh, and one more thing:

    7. Repeat as needed.

Peace out, Ruby

Whassup? Tell Ruby.

Tags: advice, recipes & food by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby Mac
I’m in my mid-forties and single, never married. I’m pretty much a loner and don’t date much, but when I do meet interesting single women, more often than not they are on the younger side. We’re talking age thirty give or take a few years either way. For whatever reason, these gals tend to be attracted to me. My theory is that since they are younger, I think that they view me with little interest and I comfortably fall into my geek/intellectual tendencies (music, books, politics) and somehow they find this charming.

What do you think about dating younger people? My guy friends think I rule for even considering it, my gal pals roll their eyes. I’ve been told (ironically by a gal pal) that the math works this way: Divide your age by two and then add seven to that and this is the age of the youngest person you can date. Your thoughts?

Thanks, Guy

Dear Guy,
Honestly, do you expect me to believe that you’re going to give up a chance at face-sucking just because you can’t take a little eye-rolling?

Of course not. Romance wins. It may not win because it should and it may not win forever, but a shot at soul-matery beats platonic camraderie every time. For every smart guy like you making foolish choices, there’s a smart woman doing the same thing. Hook up already! Your friends will make the temporary or permanent adjustment, as needed.

Does age matter? Well, I won’t pay 9 bucks to see Jack Nicholson with anybody under 60 anymore, but in reality, who cares? If you’re not Woody Allen-icky and she’s neither related, under coercion, or wearing a prairie dress, then proceed legally.

Eyes will roll. And inevitably, as time goes on and she continues to miss your snarkiest, cleverest pop culture references about obscure sports television shows of the 70s, those eyes may be your own. 

Best, Ruby

Confused? Tell Ruby all about it here.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby,
After many years of saying no, our whole family is going to spend the holidays with our richer, smarter, more successful, better dressed cousins. I’ve worked myself into a state over this because I’m tired of being on the dork side of the family. I’ve been packed for weeks, I’ve got a good haircut, I have a script in my head that carefully and impressively describes my pretty decent job, but I’m still terrified that I’m going to spend the whole weekend feeling like I’m on a job interview and then screw it up anyway and go home a dork, from a herd of dorks.

We found out a couple of days ago that they have a family football game like the freaking Kennedys. The closest we come to family exercise is wrestling for the remote during commercials. Do you have any advice?

Shirttail Loser

Dear Shi-Lo,
I won’t insult your intelligence by trying to convince you to not to get stressed or to “just be yourself.” We know that’s a crock, don’t we? But, I do have a few suggestions for getting through this special occasion with your self-respect.

1. Etiquette matters. Offer to help in the kitchen, clear the table, change a baby or a grandparent — whatever. Act like you’re “well-brought up,” even if you’re not, and it will reflect well on your family. At least they’ll add, “but she’s soooo nice,” to all the bad things they say about you.
2. Stay sober. Ideally, stay the soberest in the room. If everyone gets drunk, then you can have a few, but otherwise stay well under your limit. By the way, this also applies to dinner with your coworkers, boyfriend’s parents, and all class reunions.
3. Don’t get so paranoid that you don’t participate. Add your well-considered comments to the conversation, but avoid the usual inflammatory topics like religion and politics. Be sunny and upbeat and appropriate.
4. Stick up for your family. Don’t let them divide and conquer you. Even if your side of the family has more than its share of black sheep, they’re your black sheep. You will not look better by dissing them, you will just look desperate and disloyal.
5. Don’t cave in. Say no to the football, the singalongs, the adult game of Twister with an earnest, “I’m sorry, I’m just not up to it right now. But, thanks for asking!” Keeping your dignity without excuses is the secret voodoo trick of The Cool.

So, that’s it. Take the high road, be a good listener, act with calm confidence — and it’s just possible that one of them will crack and you’ll be supremely ready to pounce on and exploit all their hidden weaknesses. Because, this time of year, it’s all about family.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Today’s money-saving tip: Crap out on a holiday.

Go nuclear. Pick a holiday that is kind of exhausting, yet not too heavily sentimental, and limit it to your household. Maybe Thanksgiving, maybe Hanukkah, maybe a birthday, just pick one and rein that mofo in.

People will squawk. Maybe the first year, someone will have to volunteer to come down with something contagious. Then, the next year you can say, “We had a very special X day last year when it was just the X of us at home. We’ve decided to make it a tradition for our household.”

It’s all about getting over the hump. It gets much easier after the first shock. People survive. If they still want to have some sort of connection with you, tell them to drop something by the house. Don’t be home. At Easter, maybe a basket for the kids. At New Year’s Day, aspirin and tomato juice for you.

It is doable. People do it all the time. If you lived in Europe, you’d do it. If you had intermittant outbreaks of ebola, you’d do it. You don’t have to do it every holiday, but it can also work for baby showers and weddings.

Take back your day. Spend it baking, reading, wrapping, rapping — whatever. Save a buck. And have a happy.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby –

How does one politely decline pressures to join those annoying online social networks? Myspace pages look like crap and play songs you don’t want to hear automatically when you open the page. Facebook is for the kids, and I’m in my forties. I’m convinced LinkedIn has done nothing to advance anybody’s career or business. And I’m told being a Netflix Friend involves seeing each other’s movie queues . . . if a guy wants to watch Poison Ivy III to see Jaime Pressly naked why would he want to share that knowledge with friends insisting he immerse himself in the French New Wave?

It’s easy to avoid joining things in the real world as if you continually fail to show up, people eventually leave you alone. Such an approach doesn’t seem to work with the online groups. Is there a simple way to deal with these nudges in my inbox to be part of online communities?

Thanks, Herm

Dear Herm,
You’re not alone. Everyone with friends, family, coworkers and an email address has probably been invited to network in this strangely static, and faceless way.

I used to get in a dither when LinkedIn invitations came in, especially from higher ups. I used to wonder about my Classmates enough to surf around that site, and I’ve acquired one of those creepy Netflix friends (thank God she’s stopped asking me why I keep adding Shaun of the Dead to my queue).

So I pulled the plug. I don’t explain, I ignore. I’ve got a folder full of unanswered invites, and yet . . . I still get asked to parties, I still get calls from friends. I haven’t been fired or cold-shouldered at the water cooler.

Ask yourself a question. Do you remember how you felt when a cute girl or cool senior offered you his or her yearbook to sign? Did they call you later to offer you a great job or free sex?

My advice, Herm? Screw it. If pressed, tell them you have a social networking firewall — and then find somebody designing one and buy stock. By the way, those French new wave films? Full of naked people. Just saying.

Ruby

Ask Ruby about your peeves and problems.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
1 Comment »

Dear Ruby,
After a pretty decent first 11 years of marriage, we are now paycheck-to-paycheck due to the rising cost of everything and a couple of unforeseen emergencies, one with a car and one with a relative. We took a big hit in our 401ks, we’re overmortgaged, and our kids are in private schools.

We cut up our credit cards, we’re going to go down to one car, and we may even take in a roommate, so we’re not panicking yet. But I am completely stressed! I am completely mad that we can’t go to any of our favorite restaurants and have to say no when the kids want to go to a movie! I feel like I’m in a cage going slowly crazy, and here’s what my husband says when I’m at the end of my rope, “Sex is free.” Should I kill him?

Regards,
Jacqueline

Dear Jacqueline,

Are you well-insured and can you make it look like an accident?

No, you should not kill him. And brace yourself, he’s right.
 
As you may have noticed, men are different when it comes to sex. I’m pretty sure that most men could have fairly okay sex while they are actively having their collarbone broken. They just can. In the moment, they don’t care if they’re sick or rich or awake or on fire, they just can. It is their way.

And, although it’s technically free, sex does have costs for women. It will take major mental and emotional effort for you, stuck as you are in the school-age doldrums when the kids might not only be awake when you do it, but might actually know what you’re doing and mentally scoring you and/or taking notes for their future therapists.

You’re also stuck in a major state of stress, which works like a tranquilizer dart on women’s sex drives (Different from men’s. See above.) And you’re also feeling crabby and constrained and maybe even — let’s face it — resentful toward Prince Charming for not doing a better job of taxing peasants or whatever he should have done to keep you living happily ever after.

But, it will be worth it because sex is more than free. It releases endorphins, it cements your relationship bonds, which are probably feeling a little swampy lately. It relieves stress and it’s a good way to channel your aggression (I was only kidding about the collarbone, unless you’re into that.). And, hey, it burns calories.

You’ll get through this. Some free sex might just help. A bottle of good, cheap wine (optional). A secure lock on the bedroom door (mandatory). Loud enough music. It don’t cost a thang.

Trying to make do (or make whoopee) with less? Tell Ruby about it.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

I hate the word “budget.” I even hate it when I hear the Dutch guy at work say it and it comes out like boödjut. My husband makes it worse by throwing the word “austerity” in front of it. But, not liking it doesn’t make it go away. It is what it is, and that’s where the whine comes in.

When I was driving an older, less stylish car a few years ago, an acquaintance let me know that she thought I “deserved a nice car.”

Well, duh. But a new car was not what I could afford, so I decided to develop an irrational lust for something I could afford. I decided on a mug. The search began for the Cadillac of mugs — sleek, tailored, insulating yet aesthetic, with both the visceral pleasure of pottery and the snooty daintiness of porcelain, and I fancied a kind of fluting out at the top, and of course a gorgeous color and design. I found one in a second hand store and I fawned over it for a long time, loving the way that I was continuously surprised at the volume its broad bottom, the mug butt, could hold, and by how delicate it was at the lip. Oh, how I loved my special mug.

Then we taught my 13-year-old to empty the dishwasher and he promptly broke it.

I am now in the market again for the next special mug. I have to admit that half the fun is looking, and knowing that — no matter what — the sky’s the limit when I find it, whether it shows up at Goodwill or Pottery Barn or Spiegel’s.

What kind of cheap dumb thing do you deserve the best of? Go look for that one great cheap thing. Let it take weeks or months if necessary. Shop for it every time you go out. Take notes. Make your decision based entirely on aesthetic, primal, sublime, and personal pleasure in the object. Let it complete you, make a big hairy deal out of it, fetishize it, build it a freaking shrine. Once you’ve found it, don’t even let other people touch it. Be crazy in this one little area and know that when it finally gets wrecked, you get to do it all over again. Go on, you deserve it.

And tell Ruby all about it when you do.

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
3 Comments »

Dear Ruby Mac,
My best friend is selling jewelry. Before, it was Pampered Chef, and before that, lingerie. I go to everything, but I just don’t have the money to buy this expensive stuff and I’m beginning to resent being asked all the time. After all, I’ve never asked her to buy my company’s product or my husband’s company’s product, but for some reason, I’m expected to subsidize her career.

If I don’t go, I know I’ll be considered a bad friend by everybody who does show up. Any ideas to save my budget and my BFF?
Terese

Dear Terese,
Multilevel marketing is the scourge of humanity. And yet I say this with a pair of shiny silver candlesticks on order and a bottle of nasty pyramid scheme health juice in my fridge. My best friend and her sister have been doing the direct selling thing for years, and I get invited to every damn “party.”

There are pros and cons to this:
Pro: She makes the best hors d’oeurves ever. Her guacamole is the stuff of legends.
Con: It’s overpriced crap I feel obligated to buy.
Pro: I do enjoy an evening out with wine and no kids.
Con: It’s overpriced crap I feel obligated to buy.
Pro: If I go, I’ve done my BFF duty, just like the bridesmaid dress and the emergency babysitting.

After carefully weighing all my options, I have come to the conclusion that a certain amount of Tupperware or Silpada is kind of a BFF tax. It’s not fair, it’s probably not reciprocated, and I’m very glad I didn’t need to move during the 18 months she was a realtor, but still, overall, it’s worth it.

If you come to the same conclusion, here are a few tips I’ve learned:

• Only buy gifts. This should help keep you within a certain price range and alleviate buyer’s remorse. Ask — if none of the items for sale at a particular party are in your price range, just say ‘no, thanks.’
• If you’re trying on clothes or accessories, do not be encouraged by compliments from other women in the room. They’re only trying to justify their own budget-busting and, let’s admit it, they’re probably drunk.
• It’s okay to call home and get a reality check from your significant other (“Suddenly, I like turquoise. This can’t be right. Talk me out of this.”).
• Draw your line in the sand. For example, I will never, ever, consent to host a party. Never ever. Ever. Ever freaking ever. I know this, the BFF knows this, the sister knows this, as will any “hostesses” I come in contact with. This allows me to participate with good grace.

Good luck with your holiday shopping, Terese. And try the artichoke dip — it’s fabulous.

Questions for Ruby? Just ask . . .

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dawn lives on a hill among 16 acres of farmy land 50 minutes away. In the fall, the view off her western-facing deck is the epitome of Midwestern autumnal glory — hills, turning trees, wheatfields, russet sunsets.

I live in a Victorian in the city. I don’t have a view. I do have a jacuzzi and a big screen TV in my basement.

On a weekend this month, I will bake bread in her old-fashioned kitchen, cook a farm supper, and let the kids run through the fields with the dogs.

Dawn and her family will go to a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner and watch something suitably special-effectsy on the TV, and maybe soak in the tub.

We have led ourselves to believe we’ve had a weekend away. We have no problem perpetuating this myth year after year.

$ Cost: usual weekend entertainment expenses + gas

# Pain: if you can get over any neat freak or privacy issues, very little.

Variation: house-sit over their vacation or visit www.houseswap.com to try this with strangers (at your own risk)

Tags: advice by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

You’re trying to stay in a budget. You’ve blown all the money on fun-size Three Musketeers bars, but you still have a party to throw. Every year there’s more cool stuff for Halloween than ever — is it even possible to decorate for less than $100?

How about $5.53?

With a can or two of black spray paint and a keen sense of irony, you can make oddly creepy decor. Start with weird crap in your storeroom — a vase with fake flowers, a doll crib with or without the accompanying Cabbage Patch, crocheted toilet roll doilies, any kind of tacky knick-knack — the cuter and dumber the better. Spray the hell out of it.

Step two: find more ugly-cute crap and make it . . . wrong. Rub ashes on the clown painting. Spatter blood/paint on the kitchen goose plaque. Break fifteen Flintstones jelly glasses, just slightly, and arrange them in a kind of shrine to killer kitsch. Put the banality in evil. The pièce de résistance — black Christmas wreathes. Hell, paint a damn pine tree and drag it in, draped with bloody butcher’s twine. Then arrange it like any ordinary demented, homicidal housewife.

You’ve got your funereal, your snark, your unholy wedding of Martha Stewart and Edward Gorey. It will look highly creative, a quality prized by true Halloweenies, and also deeply disturbing. And it’s five freaking bucks, plus everything you can sneak out of Grandma’s garage, which, honestly, needed cleaning out.

Send Ruby a picture of your nastiest (PG-13) decorative work and you may see it published on this blog on Halloween. Or send me your questions about life, love, work, or money.

Tags: advice, money by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Dear Ruby,
I have a job people often envy.  I am a writer in advertising.  My friends think I’m cool.  However, my boss re-writes everything I turn in.  Today, after weeks of research on a new client, I turned in a great bunch of headlines for a magazine ad.  She re-wrote them, but obviously had not done the research.  Do I give her notes on why her version sucks?  The guy next to me says to face the fact that I’m an art whore.  I never was a very good whore, so I’m not super comfy with that.  What to do?

Thanks,
Peach

Peach, honey,
I think maybe someone doesn’t want to be a very good whore.

Bosses, teachers, editors, pimps — they’re always telling you to do stuff you don’t want to do and then sometimes they’re not even very nice about it. And sometimes they’re dumbasses. If your boss is really a dumbass who’s rewriting your great stuff and turning in her own crappy stuff (and hopefully not passing it off as yours), the market/management/clients will eventually correct her.

My advice: keep lovely laser copies of all your own great stuff, build yourself a bitchin’ portfolio and get ready to move up when she gets canned or maybe start dreaming about your own piece of street corner.  But, remember this, even if you’re really good, even if you have the greatest stage name ever — even if the john is Richard Gere — Peach, you are a filthy whore, like everyone else. We all sell stuff to buy other stuff and we all have to deal with the difficult people on top from time to time.

Be a better whore. Work on your technique. Take it with a smile. Keep good records. And let old Ruby know how it works out.

Does Ruby know what’s best for you? Just ask.

Tags: advice, all work by Ruby Mac
No Comments »

Cheap Thrill #1
There it is. Forty bucks. Art history. Cooking sushi. Walking tours of the veteran’s cemetery. What-ever. Throw a pot. Build an Adirondack. Channel your chi with chai.

Throw away your J. Jills, your Lillian Vernons, your SkyMalls, and open just one catalog this season, the Community Education catalog. Then pick anything you want — anything.

It feels like a splurge, but there’s no shop in town that will give you as much bang for your buck. What good is another cheap Old Navy turtleneck, when what you really want — deep down — is to make perfect buttercream rosettes? Some nutcase out there wants to show you how, for next to nothing.

Community ed. Not only do you get a cheap night out, new friends, and possibly a clay ashtray or wobbly pine stepstool that you can give as a holiday gift to some long-suffering relative, but you can write the whole thing off as self-improvement. Maybe the next love of your life is out there right now, writing a check for six weeks of Beginning Fencing. Haven’t you always wanted to fence? What are you waiting for?

Ask Ruby for advice

Tags: advice, money by Ruby Mac
No Comments »