Ask Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Every year, I think I’m going to stay home and avoid the Snowdown craziness. Then I have a change of heart (and liver) Friday night and throw something together on the fly. This year, I’m ahead of the game. I’m planning my change of heart, despite my liver’s protests, for Thursday evening right after your new paper comes out. Any costume advice using things that the common Durangotang can find in the back of the closet and/or the Subaru?

– Rock Against the Clock

Dear Rage Against the Alcohol-Industrial Complex,

Whatever gender you are, you have flannel shirts and old blue jeans. Insta-grunge costume. Easiest cop-out ever. Bonus points if you don’t bathe your hair for the duration of the beard-growing contest. Or, you could join me in going full Syd Barrett: we’ll be legendary for going recluse for Snowdown, and no one will hear from us for 40 years.

– It’s a long way to the top, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I left my wallet at a restaurant next town over, and this led to a debate about morals and ethics that has imperiled my marriage. Can I, in good conscience, drive my car without my license, so long as it’s to go pick up my license? One of us thinks that karma for all my past misdeeds will choose this time to instigate a traffic violation while I’m without license. The other one thinks I should just shut up already and quit asking her to give me a ride to recover the wallet that I am responsible for forgetting. Can you settle this for us?

- ID-less in Durango

Dear All Superego and No Bite,

You’re both right. You can’t drive yourself, and she has no reason to shuttle your butt. It’s time for you to jump on Craigslist and ask for a ride from a complete stranger. It’s like Uber, but without the sense of security. Plus, it’s nice to chip in for gas money. Once you get your wallet back, of course. That little gesture might make all the difference between making it home and making it into someone’s freezer.

– All aboard, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

When my friend comes to visit with his dog, the dog sheds everywhere. Now I love both the friend and the dog visiting, and I don’t mind the fur. What I’m wondering is whether I should make him sweep it up before he leaves. I’m the host, so I figure it’s my responsibility. But it’s his dog, so it’s his duty. Southern politeness has kept me from saying peep, but I’m about to pop from indecisiveness.

– Hairy Situation

Dear Fuzzy Wuzzy,

Garbage is simply a resource out of place. You have a fantastic opportunity this week only. Don’t sweep up the fur at all. Take a ratty old jacket and roll it around in the fur. Then, come Thursday or Friday night, sell it as an Elton John jacket to some desperate Snowdowner who will pay anything to stand out among all the flannel.

– Brush me, Rachel