Dear Gillian,

I was seeing a guy for a few weeks before he had to leave for Iraq. It's been nine months and we've been writing, but a couple months ago, I met someone new. I really like this new guy, and I want to break up with the soldier, but I don't know how or when. Is it worse to break up with him while he's over there, or wait until he gets back?

Help!
Kerry


Dear Kerry,

I understand why you are confused. You don't want to upset the soldier -- especially when he is overseas, doing his job, in the name of our country. But you should know this: People are, in general, resilient. You were only seeing each other for a few weeks before he left. While the soldier's feelings will probably get hurt, I doubt he will be totally heartbroken. He will get over it and move on. Besides, did anyone ever cry for the rest of his life?

Once you've come to the decision that you want to break up with someone (as you clearly have), my general opinion is the sooner the better. You are not doing any favors for either of you by prolonging a relationship that's heading nowhere. You have found someone that you may have a real future with, and the soldier deserves the opportunity to do the same. You don't know how long he is going to be in Iraq, and it's not fair for him to miss out on possible dating opportunities. (Even if there are no prospects for him out there, he could use his time away to clear his head and/or line up some possibilities for when he gets home.) As long as you maintain the façade that you are a couple, neither of you are going to be on the road to getting what you want.

There is never a perfect time for a breakup. Ending a relationship is always tough; just take a deep breath and go for it. I would normally suggest an in-person conversation, but given the situation, just use the best form of communication available to you. (Video phone, phone, e-mail?) Being direct and honest will keep your reputation intact (a feat that cheating and lying will surely not be able to accomplish).

P.S. If your soldier does happen to get really off kilter from your news, wouldn't you rather he have some time to cool off while overseas?

Gillian Zoe Segal is a new advice columnist for the MOLI View. Look for her column in the Life and Love section every Thursday. Do you have a question for Gillian? E-mail her or send her a message on her personal profile page.

Neal Pollack:  It's time to talk about getting away.  My wife and I are the subsection of parents who absolutely live for those two stolen days here and there where the kid stays with my sister or with my parents, so we can "work on the marriage," meaning sleep in a big comfortable bed for two days, order room service breakfast, sit in a steam room, and float in the pool. Of course, all we talk about while we're floating is the kid and how important it is to "work on the marriage," because we have nothing else to talk about, and we conveniently ignore that we're getting old and have now reached the "stroll around the marketplace" age when it comes to vacations.

As I write this, we're staying at a super-fancy resort in Scottsdale, Arizona, about five minutes from where my parents live. It's the middle of August. That's the kind of getaway we take. Arizona in the middle of August. An off-season getaway on the cheap. The last time we did this was about about 15 months ago, when we went to San Francisco, flying into Oakland and taking a shared 14-dollar-a-person Super Shuttle to the city, where we stayed at a hotel that was, for some reason, practically giving away rooms. I have a lot of little e-mail hotel bulletins to which I subscribe, in case the impossible convergence of free time, free babysitting, disposable income, and a fantastic deal ever occurs.

So: Do you and the husband do it? How often? Do you believe it's important for parents to have time off from the kids?

Erika Schickel:  Me and the hubs don't do "it" enough.  And yes, I'm talking about sex, vacations, sex-on-vacation, hotels (cheap or otherwise) and anything that has to do with pleasure and indulgence unless I single-handedly mastermind it.  Our last trip alone was Paris, in February of 2006.  That happened because I surprised the him with a trip for his 50th birthday.  It was a divine, marriage-affirming trip. But that was a long time ago and we could probably use some maintenance, I guess.

But sometimes vacations are better in theory -- there you are with the person you're always with, thinking about the children you left behind, ordering the chicken because steak is too expensive, not getting a massage because it would just be too pricey and indulgent, wishing you could have afforded a room that didn't overlook the parking lot, wanting to go home to your own pillow and yet dreading the moment you have to get back to real life.

Oooh, I'm a little piss-ant today, aren't I?  I think I may need a vacation.

NP: I know full well the getaway-related problems you bring up here, but there is a way to overcome all this -- bargain hunting. By looking very carefully, we've found, on this vacation, a $40 massage, a $18 bottle of wine, and a free upgrade to a luxury suite because no one stays at this hotel when it's 111 degrees outside. Then, suddenly, you're remembering why you got married in the first place. You love a deal, and nothing is more erotically charging than a deal. Personally, I'd rather be on a trip with a known quantity who I like than having to get to know a bunch of strangers, most of whom will probably turn on me the first second I fart in public. As for thinking about the kids you leave behind, well, at least you're leaving them behind, and you're only thinking about them in the abstract. In the case of my kid, he's swimming and eating ice cream with grandma. I think he'll survive.

ES:  You know, just hearing you talk about free upgrades gets me hot, Neal.  Tell me ... how deep is the bathtub?  I remember a nice package getaway Doug and I took at some golf resort (neither of us play golf) where we basically spent the whole weekend in the bathtub.  I'm so inspired!  And, of course, you're right. There's nothing nicer than getting to rediscover the one you love over an all-you-can-eat buffet.

As for the kids, ours are getting easier to get away from.  In fact, lately the balance has shifted toward them trying to get away from US.  It almost renders the romantic getaway academic.  Except that it's hard to get in the mood when there's dog hair in your bathtub. 

Describe your package to me some more, Big Boy!

NP:  There is no bathtub, but there is a double-wide rain shower. We've also got several of those books that appear in certain kinds of hotels. The books describe other hotels, in places far more foreign (to me) than Arizona. A little taste of luxury makes you hunger for more, and then you think, if I didn't have kids, maybe I could do this twice every two years instead of once. Or maybe, if I didn't have kids, I could do this just as often, but spend more time doing charity work. Right. Really, though, the main benefits here are two-fold: There is near-continual maid service, and no exterior noise. None at all. No cement trucks, no leaf blowers, no teenagers screaming one another's names in the street. Oh, and no SpongeBob, turned up at full volume to overshadow the fan-based wind tunnel that we have in our house every day. I don't want to leave. Please don't make me leave ...

ES:  There, there m'boy.  Just think, you and the wife will always have Arizona.

Neal Pollack and Erika Schickel's Because We Said So column appears every other Tuesday in the MOLI View.

Watch the video!

After a full day of approaching people for interviews, I walked through McCarren Park in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to find Harvis and his friends - girl-watching. Sitting on a rail at a respectful distance, they softly whistled and called out to pretty women walking by. Do the women ever respond?

"People Are a Trip" is a video series shot with a crew of one (me!) in New York City. I do spontaneous interviews with people on the street and with influential underground musicians. They answer my blunt questions with the truth of the moment. They are hilarious. No, poetic. Well, maybe quite philosophical.

Juliana Luecking, aka QueenJuliana, is a MOLI View videomaker and contributing editor for Life & Love.

If you didn't see my blog last week, it was about picking though garbage for food. I know, it doesn't sound like fun, but this habit of humans has been around for ages. Here's more! -- Juliana

Third Night

When I got home from work, my girlfriend told me about the 2001 French documentary by Agnes Varda, Les Glaneurs et la Glaneuse (The Gleaners and I).  Originally, a gleaner was someone who gathered grain or other produce left by reapers, and Jean-Francois Millais' 1857 painting The Gleaners is a good representation. In the film, a gleaner is someone who presently lives in the French countryside and collects leftover crops after they are commercially harvested, as well as city dwellers who gather food from supermarkets and stands. (The word is also used in Detroit, at the Gleaners Food Bank, which looks like a really neat place.)

Fourth Night

We watched The Gleaners and I, a brilliant film in a low-tech medium. Besides lovely personal touches by Varda, there are exquisite examples of street philosophy and good sense.

Fifth Night

I watched and learned from the same tiny lady I observed two nights before - in her long skirt - as she bent forward with grace while she sorted through heavy trash bags. She was working hard, and although I wanted to approach to ask what she had found, I realized that my interest might be interpreted as ridicule. So, I changed direction and headed through the West Village.

I stopped by a big grocery store, and looked for the large rolling carts of bags that a friend mentioned. It was about 10:15 p.m., but nothing was out yet, so I crossed the street to a natural food store that had a hot food bar.  Every night, I heard, they have delicious and healthy food left over. If one arrives 15 minutes before closing and is bold and polite, the manager allows foraging inside the store - from the hot food bar, that is.

Since I didn't get there early, another option is to go to the trash bags outside, and touch the sides to see if they're warm. Warm bags have hot food from the bar. Duh. After I took a deep breath and calmed my trepidation about being recognized while garbage-picking, I untied one warm garbage bag. Inside it was another thick green garbage bag, and inside that, still another. I was shocked at the environmental waste of all those bags, but inside the third bag I found a vegetable curry soup. I scooped out about 20 ounces into a container I brought, packed it in my bag, tied the bags back up, and headed for the subway.

My adrenaline was pumping because when I took that soup, it felt like I stole something. But in fact, because I foraged responsibly by keeping the bags tidy, I actually worked in cooperation with staff of the store and the garbage men. I calmed myself, thinking that only a manager who wanted to share good food would pack soup so thoughtfully.

The soup was very tasty, by the way.

Sixth Night

I was whipped from a long day of physical work, so I didn't go foraging. I did, however, shop in the 24-hour market across from my apartment building for orange juice and soy milk, at $4.99 each for a half-gallon. Yow! I was suddenly aware of how lucky I am to have money to pay for food. I was tired, and I've realized that it's hard work to hunt for free food.

Seventh Night

On my way out the door at dusk to see an outdoor screening of Charlie Chaplin films, I left my wallet at home on purpose. Going out with no money seemed radical and unfamiliar, and watching the films while penniless alongside people who ate sweet treats was a lesson, one that Charlie's tramp would certainly understand. Usually, everything I want to eat is available for purchase, and I buy it.

On the long walk home, I purposely chose the avenue with restaurants and shops so I could test my humility and forage in my own neighborhood. It freaked me out, so I didn't, but I did see plenty of trash-picking opportunities, and I wondered about the waning U.S. economy, and how people would survive dramatic lifestyle changes.

Among those who would lead us to survive would be the gleaners of today, and others who live on very little money. They have the skills we may need, and probably the physical strength to outlast us.

Juliana Luecking, aka Queen Juliana, is a MOLI View contributing editor for Life & Love.