Love has many facets but you'll know it because it's umami, which is the Japanese word for the fifth taste, often translated as "brothy" or "savory." Love gives you a warm feeling in your body, though other feelings--fear, hate, flatness, hurt--often come around to spray coldness on the warm until you can't tell what's going on. Interestingly, umami sounds like mommy, which is fitting because all love is on some level mother love, containing echoes of that primary bond, which sucks if you're ambivalent about your mother. And who isn't? Not you, Rusty. Not you.

But here's the good news: your dog loves you. Dogs are descended from wolves, and wolves live in small family groups (not packs, as previously believed). In other words, wolves grow up with a mommy and daddy and siblings, and this social structure is probably what drives the intense social needs of dogs. That's right, your doggie thinks you are his mommy. He wants another treat, sure, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to sleep on your bed and stare at you all day and chew on your underwear and generally soak up your umaminess. The dog loves you. Do you love your dog?

Hi Aaron. Thank you for your interesting question. The answer is yes, I do think clean disposable diapers are an acceptable emergency dinner plate, and I applaud your ingenuity. I have long used grocery or other bags as impromptu plates, even though they've been exposed to the germy hand/air/car/world. The trick is to not look out the window at fellow motorists, nor to mention the origin of the "plate" or call attention to your improvisation in any way. If you don't say anything, no one else will say anything. The truth is, the lady in the next car probably didn't notice you were eating French fries out of a diaper. She probably looked horrified because of the conversation she was having on her hands-free phone--or maybe she just always looks horrified. People like to think about themselves, not you, and cars confer a certain amount of privacy, even though some of it is probably just a social convention.

And let's not forget the hygiene hypothesis, which says that too much cleanliness is a problem for the immune system. You gotta challenge that puppy! By this logic, the Huggie is probably way too clean, really, when you get right down to it. I'm sure it's been bleached and sanitized for your protection and whatever.

It might be better, in the long run, to eat directly off the floor.

No! I'm going to get you for ignoring the rules of capitalization.

Hi One.

It doesn't sound like you just flat-out suck. You've been encouraged and that's encouraging. But it's possible that the editors you're sending your work to are not really reading it very carefully. Maybe they're not reading it at all. I will now tell you how to get an editor to read your story, so listen up. There are two things you must do. First, write a friendly, engaging, and brief cover letter. Include your accomplishments, if you have some yet, and be yourself, unless you are an asshole, and then try to imitate someone you know who's charismatic and charming. But be brief. Brief. And nice. And friendly and personable. "Dear Nice Editor, I love your magazine. I especially loved the story by Stacey Richter that you published. I'm just starting out as a writer but I'm getting an MFA at U of Uranus. Honestly, I thought this latest story of mine kicked ass, and I wanted you to read it. Here it is. Love, OWW."

The second thing you must do is send your piece in proper manuscript format. This may seem stupid but it's extreeemely important. What this means, among other things, is that you will start your story halfway down the first page. You will double-space. You will include page numbers and a title. A title. A title. Double space. Google "proper manuscript format" for more tips. Otherwise, you will look like an amateur and will be treated as one. A lot of people are offended by this, but it's just a rule, like proper grammar, that helps distinguished the experienced and educated from the beginners/outsiders/whatevers. So give it a try and tell me how it goes.

No, I don't know him. I got his email address by googling "Daniyal Mueenuddin email," which brought me to his website, where his email address is listed. So I'm not really being wicked, I'm sad to say.

Hi Kerem,

Thanks for asking! I have two answers. One is yes, if you're especially interested in American culture, the English language, and think you can find a teacher you might really connect with somewhere, or just want to get out of Instanbul for a while.

My second answer is I have no idea, since I hardly ever leave my house. Why not ask the author of the wonderful book In Other Rooms, Other Wonders, Daniyal Mueenuddin? I bet he would know. Here's his email: inotherrooms@gmail.com

I like super-pop music, especially anything with a lot of clapping and/or cowbells that you could cheerlead to, such as "Sour Cherry" by the Kills, or even "Play that Funky Music" by Wild Cherry. I always love the vocal music of the past; Julie London is still a big favorite. Lately I've been listening to a Miles Davis Pandora station, which is practically Muzak. It plays softly in the background and gives my home a shopping mall atmosphere. I really like "I Decided" by Solange Knowles. She is pretty.

Six months is a medium-long time, my friend, and the length of time it is varies by how old you are. If you're three years old, six months is a very, very, very long time. If you're 103 years old, it's also a very long time, but in a totally different way. If you're, say, 24 years old, it's an amount of time that will seem long while it's happening, maybe even long enough to change your life (school, religion, romance, friends), but when it's over, it will seem like a short time. It's a short amount of time for any big project, such as writing a novel or growing out your bangs.

Yes, there are some ways to make time go by faster. One way is to have a really good time or to be really happy. If there's an activity you enjoy, like knitting legwarmers, it might help time progress. Sometimes sleeping a lot helps on the day-by-day level. Moving or traveling tends to make time speed up a little, even if you're a miserable traveler. Being in a coma probably erases time, but I don't think anyone is certain about that. There are a lot of interesting passages on this subject in Joseph Heller's great novel, Catch 22. Reading great books also helps time speed by.

But in the end, friend, time passes quickly enough. I don't know what happens in six months, but there's a lot to see on the way. You might be as surprised or excited or pleased by the glitter in the interim as you are by the fireworks at the end.

It makes many people sad. I'm sure you're familiar with the Christmastime suicide spike. There are a couple of reasons for this:

Family gatherings are often hellish, and if they're not hellish, they can be weird or fraught or spiked with unpleasantness or covered with a haze of disappointment. Even if the gathering is okay, it probably doesn't live up to the cinnamon glow of holiday car commercials. Advertising exists to make us feel hollow and bad about our lives. That way, we'll shop more in an attempt to FILL THE HOLE. But advertising works so well that it's hard to perceive what's happening. Overall, it just seems like other people are having a better time than we are, and that's a sucky feeling.

Also, at this time of year, the short days and long nights fuck with some people's heads in a biological way, making them feel sad.

I haven't read it, though I am a bit familiar with the idea because I've been reading a lot of books about consciousness lately. And, even though I was woken up last night by a strange and loud auditory hallucination, I find Julian Jaynes's thesis unconvincing. He says that until 3000 years ago, humans had a sort of split right brain/left brain consciousness which caused them to experience ideas and inspirations as actual voices from outside themselves, much as schizophrenics hear Elvis or Satan or strange tones in the middle of the night today. Consciousness as we experience it now is a cultural construction. I should read the book before I argue against it, so this isn't an argument, but I just think that we are basically like our ancestors in most of the general ways, just as we are all basically like one another in most ways, even if we were raised in the rain forest instead of a city. I think Jaynes doesn't quite get the idea of a metaphor. But maybe I should read the book.

My favorite breed of dog is the sheltie. Is Santa bringing me one?