Dear Miles

Tomorrow our dear Miles turns 11! This has been a very big year for our sweet guy. On top of welcoming a baby sister into the family, whom he is delightfully and almost aggressively ambivalent about, he went on a diet and lost about six pounds and now he can even hoist himself up on top of our kitchen cabinets where he enjoys watching over everyone sort of creepy-like. He’s in such great shape now that his vet gave the ok to reduce his insulin injections from two times a day to just once daily. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if this time next year he’s off insulin completely. That’s how committed…

By popular request, Miles has agreed to bless us with his presence today and answer a few letters from his mailbox:

After a rather lengthy hiatus spent napping, dreaming of chicken parm subs, and chasing Simone, Miles returns to DW today to tackle some of the letters that have been filling his in-box:

Today is my birthday (35, y’all!) so I’m taking the day off to celebrate, enjoy a little R&R and squeeze in a sonogram appointment at my OB’s office. In my absence, Miles, who is handling his new diabetic diet like a champ, by the way, has offered to guest write a few columns. Here’s one of them: Dear Miles, I started taking guitar classes. I don’t know why. I’m not normally a spontaneous person but I thought it would be fun. I was right. We all sit around in a group and play the guitar. Then, after class, we go out for beers. So far I’ve made out/had sex with 5 people…

Today is my birthday (35, y’all!) so I’m taking the day off to celebrate, enjoy a little R&R and squeeze in a sonogram appointment at my OB’s office. In my absence, Miles, who is handling his new diabetic diet like a champ, by the way, has offered to guest write a few columns. Here’s one of them: Dear Miles, Should I buy those sunglasses at Sunglass Hut? They look real cute on me but they’re pricey. Stephanie says I should go ahead and buy them. Ryan is always telling me not to hang out with Stephanie because she’s irresponsible and immature. I’m tired of Ryan always bossing me around. But the sunglasses…

Today is my birthday (35, y’all!) so I’m taking the day off to celebrate, enjoy a little R&R and squeeze in a sonogram appointment at my OB’s office. In my absence, Miles, who is handling his new diabetic diet like a champ, by the way, has offered to guest write a few columns. Here’s one of them: My boyfriend’s name is Steve but sometimes I accidentally call him “Larry.” For the life of me I don’t know why. I do not have any ex’s, friends or even acquaintances named Larry. My boyfriend doesn’t think this is funny and neither do I. We are both very serious people. Steve is a wonderful person…

I’ve been in the hospital, so Miles has kindly volunteered to step in and guest write a column or two this week. Here’s one of them: I did it! I went on a date with Mike! Actually it was a group date. It was a field trip for biology class. We went to the lake to collect larvae specimens or something. But Mike and I rode in the same van. Just two rows apart. He sat next to Denise. Anyhoo, I ended up making out with our Science Professor behind a boat house. Not bad right? — Gina

I’m on vacation through May 13th, and in my absence Miles has offered to guest write a couple of columns. Here’s one of them: Dear Miles, Is it possible to be in love with two people at the same time? One man is a good friend and, to my delight, our friendship has blossomed into a wonderful romantic relationship. I cherish every moment we spend together. He is thoughtful, funny and has a kind heart. The other man is my eye doctor. I don’t want to hurt either of them and I’m afraid I’ll only end up hurting both. Should I just MOA and start over with someone new? — Double trouble

I’m on vacation through May 13th, and in my absence Miles has offered to guest write a couple of columns. Here’s one of them: Dear Miles, The heel of my shoe broke off. I almost fell down and broke my neck and all my boyfriend did was laugh at me! I am so angry right now! Plus, I have to spend the whole day walking around with a broken shoe. What’s so funny about that? I never want to see him again. Also when he laughs he sounds like a creepy girl. The Germans call it shadenfreude. I call it MOA! Jerk. — I Broke My Shoe