The wild hecticness of the past two weeks ought to end on Tuesday night: I will have finished the Last of the Big Projects at Harvard Business School, and Mr. Improbable will (ash willing) be home.

I’ve missed him, but Milo and I had gotten into a nice routine of walks and napping (Milo)/working (me), and then in the evenings snuggling and watching movies and TV together. (I did wind up watching “Caprica.”) It’s been okay.

And it gave Milo an excellent opportunity to practice his comic timing.

He has an uncanny knack for sighing, growling, grumbling at the perfect moment when we’re watching a video, and I swear he’s getting better at it. I’m not pretending to be one of those dog owners who insists her dog understands English (even if he did, he still wouldn’t know what’s going on on “Lost” any more than I do). But he likes the attention of being laughed at, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s figured out that growling when he hears the sound of a threatening voice, or sighing when the music swells dramatically, will get him laughs.

He comes from funny people.

… is online here.

As noted earlier, these are some hectic times. I’ve got a huge project that’s just wrapping up at my Harvard job — and a big private appearance scheduled for next Tuesday. All good and exciting stuff, but combined with being a single dog-mommy while Mr. Improbable is out of town (I hope he won’t be a “volcano refugee” past his planned return date of next Monday) … well, there just hasn’t been much time to post, or to respond to your fabulous comments on the “politeness v. being a victim” thread. Or to go to Trader Joe’s or do laundry, for that matter.

I believe this panel from “Apartment 3-G,” hat tip to Comics Curmudgeon, sums things up nicely:

Whoops, almost forgot to put this up. Come if you can, read the transcript if you can’t!

Some exciting news for booksy folk, local and elsewhere:

I will be doing a reading and signing for Mind over Manners this Wednesday at 7 p.m. at the Watertown Public Library, 123 Main Street in Watertown (directions here). I hope to meet some of you there!

The Rock Bottom Remainders are doing a four-city tour this week, finishing at Boston’s Club Royale (formerly the Roxy) on April 24! As all good book nerds know, the RBRs is comprised of famous writers who nonetheless harbor dreams of rock stardom. All proceeds from the concert (priced at a reasonable $30) go to relief efforts in Haiti.

Louisiana State University Press is having a great big sale, illustrated by an awesome online flier. (C’mon, you’re cool, you know who that drawing is of.) Enter the code 04ANNIVER when you check out to get the 35% discount. My friend Alisa Plant is an editor there, and you can e-mail her at aplant@lsu.edu to ask about particular areas of interest. They’ve got lots of stuff, and are particularly excellent in Southern culture and history.

is online here.

Regarding the first question, I find the balance between being polite, and refusing to allow one’s self to be a victim, to be a fascinating yin-yang to think about. I plan to do a Wednesday Conversation about it on the boston.com blog sooner or later, but if any of you want to share your thoughts on the subject now, I’d love to hear them.

This just came in, from a rabbi at a greater Boston area synagogue:

Don’t know if you recall, but in one of our previous email conversations you mentioned that you do (like to do?) speaking engagements – and even more, that you are “reasonable”. Since I already know you are reasonable from your column, I take it that you mean reasonable in fee.

The rabbinic mind in action! Love it.

I’ll be doing a reading from Mind over Manners next Wednesday, April 21, at 7 p.m. at the Watertown Public Library. I hope to see some of you there and put some faces to handles. Please introduce yourself, if you come!

Guess what? I received another letter from A.C., the elderly gentleman in last week’s column. He wrote:

Thank you for running my “unwanted charity” letter. Your mention of book and movie should spur DVD sales and bring the “MO” message to the younger crowd. Thus, through you, I’ve paid forward the couple in the restaurant.

Although ageism is rampant in our society, I somehow doubt many people are bold or clueless enough to patronize our A.C. Certainly not more than once, anyway!

Other people’s fat, that is.

It’s the only possible explanation for last night’s episode of “Lost.” Apparently, Hugo Reyes has one consistent character trait, and one only: he is fat. Or so the writers seem to think.

Spoilers below the break:

Like most advice columnists, I get far more questions than I can use, and the only ones that get answered are the ones that are published in my column. (I wish more people understood that about the nature of advice-column writing, but that’s a topic for another day.) I think perhaps once or twice I’ve written a person back directly, not for publication. One of these happened last week, and it’s fairly obvious why the following question would have caught my eye:

My partner started a new job, and colleagues have been inviting us to dinner parties to welcome us. This would be great except that I have a digestive disorder and have strong reactions to dairy, red meat, fried food, shellfish, chocolate, and alcohol. It feels like a big imposition to give hosts this long list, especially when we barely know them and they are already being so kind. I don’t want them to feel obligated to serve some dreary menu lacking all these yummy things, or feel they need to cook extra things for me.

I need to make a good impression, not be a pain in the neck. But I can’t eat those foods; if there’s alcohol in something, I get sick pretty rapidly.

Is there a graceful way to inform hosts about my health issues but not make them feel they must go to extra trouble? Or is it better to say nothing, show up, and just eat the carrots? Or should I just stay home? Thank you!

The LW signed the letter with the initials “IBS.”

I wrote back:

I almost never e-mail directly to questions, but I’ve got a lot of food-related q’s coming up in the column, so this one won’t make it in.

I also have the digestive trifecta: IBS, gastritis, and GERD. You and I could have a good time together drinking our herbal tea (with no mint!) and playing “Forbidden Foods Bingo,” so I’m really feeling where you’re coming from.

Here’s what I’d do. I think you should go. We’re not living in the “Mad Men” era where the proper corporate wife was an essential part of her husband’s career, but still, it’s good to get to know the folks your partner will be working with. Bail on a couple of dinners, if you need to, but do try to make most of them.

For the ones you’re going to attend, call the hosts. Tell them something like, “I’m so looking forward to meeting you. Unfortunately, I am dealing with some digestive issues at the moment, and I’m on a ridiculously restricted diet. Can I bring a side dish? It would make things easier for me, and I don’t want you to have to change your menu.” Then you make your side dish, bring it (along with some non-alcoholic wine or sparkling cider), and eat that and whatever else you can have. If they protest, laugh and say, “No, believe me, I can’t eat X and Y and Z and A and B–you’re not the Canyon Ranch Spa, I don’t expect to be catered to! Besides, my partner loves all those things, and it’s not like s/he gets them at home!”

If the colleagues become close friends, you’ll work it out together over time. And I don’t know why telling people you have digestive issues “at the moment” makes them more comfortable (and less likely to tell you about the magical cure that worked for their sister-in-law) than admitting to a chronic condition, but it does.

Good luck!

“IBS” wrote back, thanked me for my advice, and said things had been going well so far.

I’m still questioning myself about that “at the moment” thing, though. I’ve been saying this a lot about myself, but that’s because I’m still working out exactly how much margin for error I have in my diet. IBS clearly knows, and doesn’t have much margin at all.

So was I going against my own principles of body acceptance, and acknowledging our “sicks,” by suggesting that IBS elide the actual nature of her condition? (It’s not a lie, per se: she is dealing with IBS “at the moment,” after all.)

Yet I find people are more comfortable, and also much less likely to pry/sympathize excessively/suggest cures, when you frame your condition as temporary. So if “I have a chronic illness and I’m not ashamed of it” is something that a person is militant about, there’s going to be the psychic cost involved of constantly dealing with the clueless. (Obviously, whether you frame an illness as short- or long-term depends on how visible it is. You can’t see that IBS and I have diseases. People like the woman with trichotillomania don’t have the luxury of this debate.)

There’s also something known as the “primacy effect” that comes into play here. People tend to place greater weight on the first pieces of information they receive. If you lead with your illness, which IBS would have to do if she’s calling people she never met to ask about their menus — that’s going to be the main thing people remember about you. By downplaying the illness and, er, up-playing her willingness to bring a side dish and enthusiasm to meet her husband’s colleagues, IBS can shift her initial impression from “the sick lady” to “the friendly lady and creative cook.”

What do you think? Was my advice good, or too namby-pamby?

Happy Monday, all. I am heading into a wildly busy time at my Harvard Business School job, and Mr. Improbable is jetting off today to introduce the wonders of Improbable Research to Scotland, Denmark, and Sweden, so posting frequency may be low for the next week or so.

But feel free to drop a comment about whatever’s on your mind these days, and if I get a free 20 minutes and inspiration at the same time, I’ll write about it!

UPDATE: Oh, wait, I know what I want to hear from you all! Unfortunately, my work busy-ness isn’t going to come with predictable deadlines while Mr. Improbable is gone. This means I can’t make a lot of social plans in advance. Which means, probably, a fair amount of movie and TV-watching with Milo in the evenings. I’d love to find some good television show on DVD to get addicted to. What would you recommend? Shows I like include “Deadwood,” “Mad Men,” “Lost,” “Six Feet Under,” “Sopranos,” “True Blood,” and “Dexter,” so that should give you an idea of my taste. Recommendations gratefully accepted!

… is online here. I particularly enjoyed the second question. I liked the man’s attitude, and his dignity, and his cultural literacy. And, of course, I liked the opportunity to talk about Douglas Sirk.

Like most people of my generation, I didn’t encounter Sirk’s movies until Todd Haynes’s wonderful tribute film “Far from Heaven” came out (seven years ago?! now I feel old!) but I quickly became a great fan of his color-saturated melodramas. “Magnificent Obsession” is a personal favorite of mine, largely because of one scene that I think illustrates the post-War obsession with femininity more than a thousand episodes of “Mad Men” or feminist essays ever could: Jane Wyman as a blind woman, wearing high heels — on the beach.

What is with all this Shakespearean nonsense about Macduff not having been “of woman born”? McSweeney’s puts that lie to the test:

MACDUFF: I was extracted surgically, in an operation.

MACBETH: Okay, but thou wast still born, right?

MACDUFF: No. Untimely ripped.

MACBETH: Okay, but after thou wast ripped, thou wast of woman born.

I really disagree with Dear Prudence’s advice in today’s column (first letter), in which she advises a woman who is rooming with a pregnant smoker to confront the woman about her habit. But what do you think? Am I being too libertarian and hands-off? Personally, I think it’s none of the roommate’s business and she ought to butt out. How would you answer this question?

I share an apartment with four other women. We found one another on Craigslist and maintain a cordial environment within our common spaces but don’t interact socially. One of my roommates is four and half months pregnant but still smokes about half a pack of cigarettes a day. This girl isn’t even 20 years old and has no college education. I don’t believe the pregnancy was planned or is particularly wanted. One of the factors that’s made living with so many other women in a small apartment successful is respecting one another’s privacy. But do I have an obligation to say something to her? Is it possible she’s not aware that her behavior is harmful to her baby? Could I anonymously slip some information under her door? I hesitate to get into someone else’s business, but I worry for her unborn child. Should I leave this one alone?

I’m particularly amazed that Prudence says, not merely that the roommate can say something, but that she “must speak up.” (Italics mine.) What do you all think? I believe in the whole “it takes a village” concept, yet at the same time, I think a pregnant woman’s autonomy ought to be respected by strangers, even the woman does have the temerity to be young and uneducated. Where do we draw the line?