Query: How can anybody take this column seriously? It's all faked, isn't it? And is it a sartorial solecism to wear white socks with a blue suit before Memorial Day?

–Wondering on Westmoreland

Carrie: "Faked" is an interesting word. And, like discretion, a word open to interpretation. Because I have reasonable answers on a regular basis to a wide range of questions of general interest, I was given the position of Advice Goddess to the Voice. Sometimes the Queries I use are fresh from the literate public. Sometimes I take them from the vast archive of written and verbal exchanges I have had over the years. Sometimes the questions are both fresh and verbal–and usually sensitive enough regarding the asker's dignity or privacy that I'm quite comfortable disguising the particulars of my querent and her/his question (including gender, location, age and other tell-tale characteristics). Is this bad journalism? Maybe. Is it a good neighbor policy? I do believe it is. Has my editor requested that I desist? Nope.

If you're not going for the hardcore haute-nerd look, you'll want to eschew the white socks with the blue suit all 365 days of the year. But folks like Buddy Holly, Elvis Costello, and all the boys in Weezer have made, literally, careers out of that groove. Look into your heart of hearts to see if your inner nerd is screaming to get out, and if not, go buy some socks in the same tonal range as your blue suit.

Query: My best friend and my other best friend broke up. They got together because they both knew me and it was really fun and great. Now neither one wants anything to do with the other. I have to choose all the time whom I eat lunch with and walk with and go to a movie with. I don't want to choose. I liked them both before and I wish they never went out so it wouldn't suck so bad now. Tell me what to say to make them make up.

–Peeved on Piney Branch

Carrie: I wish I could tell you what to say to make them change their minds. But this isn't about their minds; it's about their hearts. You and your friends are young enough still that emotional mistakes (like choosing a girl/boyfriend and then finding out that on essential levels there are clashes and not enough conflict resolution skills, or will, to get over them) are a huge embarrassment most of the time. Most people don't deal with embarrassment well, and dislike anything that reminds them of their recent embarrassing life events. They may never want to be around one another again. Take this possibility into serious consideration. Set up an alternating weekend, or lunchtime, schedule with them for now. It's a pain in the parts, but you're clear that you want to stay in touch with them both and that seems to be the realistic response to their mutual aversion.

In time, say when they've both gone further down the boy/girlfriend line a person or two each, they'll be less embarrassed by their past and may be open to resuming cordial relations–around you, anyway.

Query: The newest housemate is driving me crazy. He throws away all kinds of things that can be recycled, and all kinds of other things that can't–but that anyone would be glad to continue using. I'm not an earth-firster or anything, but I can't stand by and watch him consume and pollute with equanimity. What can I do, short of advertising for yet another housemate?

–Hopped-up on Houston

Carrie: You've already judged your roomie and found him wanting. Now you can try labeling the various containers for the recyclables: paper, cardboard, steel, aluminum, Good Will, etc. Make the right use of these containers an agenda item for the next house meeting.

If you're not having house meetings, now may be a good time to start. Include your housemate's issues on the agenda every time you meet, and listen as though you hoped to be listened to when he brings up his pet peeves, hobbyhorses, and bizarre ritual requirements. That way you'll have created a context for him to in turn hear and conform to your values and needs.

If you've been through a lot of housemates in a fairly short period of time, you may need to ask yourself if you're advertising for your housemates in the right publication, or with the right language. Consistent bad matches mean that a) you're not asking the right people to move in, and/or that b) you're not too good at compromising enough to live with others. Consider both of these options and be honest with yourself when looking at the second. It's not a crime to be a picky introvert, until you force your lifestyle and peccadilloes on the unsuspecting.