Dear Dr. Love,I am fourteen, my mom say I’m too young for a boyfriend and I agree, but that doesn’t help me; the boys I’m interested in aren’t real, well, they are, but they don’t exist in my world. Basically... they are celebrities. I have their posters tacked to my ceiling so I can say goodnight and goodmorning to them. I think this could be considered a disease. What should I do?
If you're looking for someone to tell you you're delusional, I'm not your girl. After all, I call myself Dr. Aphrodite. Clearly I have delusions of grandeur myself. It sounds to me like you have a vivid imagination, and that's hardly a disease. In fact, I wish more people had such expansive, awesome inner lives. I mean let's face it: everyday existence is sometimes lacking. It's full of dishes that must be scrubbed and essays that must be written. What would you rather do? Work out an algebraic equation or hang with Zac Efron, preferably on an exotic Caribbean island? It's not exactly a difficult choice, so I don't blame you for talking to your posters.
Basically what I'm saying is you're fine--no worries. The only way things might get dicey is if worshipping lovely boy specimens from afar interferes with your actual flesh and blood relationships or with the things you need to do like, you know, floss. So long as you're keeping up with your basic hygiene and still giving actual boys a chance to dazzle you, should they ever rise to the challenge, why stress? An active mind is a fabulous thing, plus it's super portable. I'd keep your fantasies alive but also keep your eyes open for amazing living-breathing types too.
Dear Once Bitten, Twice Shy,
Well, it's true that the golden apple did create quite a lot of trouble for poor Helen. When Paris handed it over to me I went ahead and helped him elope with Helen, and then blah blah blah, you know the routine--her face launched a thousand ships, etc. Hera and Athena definitely were primed for some eye-scratching, though, since Paris declaring me the fairest was a huge dis to both of them. What are you going to do, though? I'm hot.
P.S. This better not be Hera or Athena writing under an alias! If it is, I just hope you know I've still TOTALLY GOT IT. Mmm-mm, that golden apple tastes juicy and sweet as ever!
Dear Ask Aphrodite,Okay, my boyfriend of three years is going to propose!!!!! I am freaking out; so happy!!!!! Can’t you tell? Okay, I just giggled... I’m not a girl who giggles... it must be love! I am all for him proposing, but he has rubbish taste in jewelry and I know the ring I want. What do I do?Love,
Hmm, that's a hard one. You've obviously got a delicate situation on your hands. You don't want to insult his taste, but this is a rock you'll have to live with forever (hopefully) so you don't want to limp along with substandard merchandise. I'd suggest strong visual hints scattered throughout his world. Strategically plant pictures of your dream ring in all the places he is likely to look such as on top of the remote control, on the actual TV, on the fridge, taped to his cell phone, computer, toilet seat, etc. Subtle, yet effective. Voila!
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To read more of a certain YA heroine's escapades as the goddess of love, read Jody Gehrman's newest novel, Babe in Boyland!