Category: Advice Guru

My GMA “Advice Guru” Quest, Please Help

Hey there, Friends!
I’m back at you again, asking for your votes and Facebook “Likes” in my quest to be Good Morning America’s “Advice Guru.”A tweet now and then couldn’t hurt either, but no pressure.

I’m not too proud to beg at this point. Just tell me what you want in return; a foot rub, to borrow my clothes, to have me care for your aging parent or write your kid’s college application essay. I am not above groveling and pandering ‘cuz I know doing this during the holidays is a fun as hair removal. But think, if I get the job, I will stay out of your hair and send you swag from ABC, like t shirts and mugs and pictures of Sam Champion, the Weather Anchor.

Just click on this red button! Easy, right? Then click the Like box (if you’re a FB member, and who isn’t these days?) and scroll to the end of my advice and rate is as high as you dare without feeling like a total sell-out (a “4” rating would be worth a cuticle push from me.) You can send me your payback demands at the end of January, when they announce the winner.  Love, Vicki

Help Make Me “Advice Guru” for ABC’s Good Morning America!

I’m a finalist for the job of “Advice Guru” for ABC’s Good Morning America. There are 20 finalists, I want the job sooo much. I REALLY need your support! Please start asap! It will only take you a few minutes.

1. VOTE for Me on the GMA Website Please vote for my first advice as an Advice Guru contestant to a GMA viewer. Voting is on the second page, vote “4”.

2. JOIN the Make-Vicki-Iovine-GMA-Advice Guru Facebook Page (comment and hit the LIKE button)

3. FOLLOW Me on Twitter (Kill me now! Tweeting! But I do really want the job)

4.TWEET About It! If you tweet please support me, and let GMA know you’re doing it @gma!

Watch My GMA Pitch

I’ll keep you posted, and let you know what else you can do!

With gratitude, Vicki

The REAL Secret for Staying Married: Separate Rooms

A couple of Fridays ago I wrote about those moments right before I fall asleep that scare me and bring up the loneliness of being newly-divorced. The responses were many and broke down into four categories.

1.  Get a dog (or cat or something else with a pulse that didn’t back-sass.)
2.   Smoke pot, take herbs, listen to white noise.
3.   Avoid pills at all costs, particularly Ambien.
4.   Stop your whining and go to sleep already!

It’s #4 that particularly interested me because most of the people who thought I was a big fat baby were married women (and some men) who no longer sleep with their spouses. Most of my friends and acquaintances follow my blogs, which is usually great, but occasionally humiliating (I think they’ve organized a phone tree to make sure I don’t kill myself between the hours of 10pm and 2pm because of that last blog. Just kidding again, you guys!) In the ensuing couple of weeks since that post on sleeping single they have been coming up to me and phoning and emailing me about their own experiences.  read more ›

We’ve Forgotten How To Mourn


Most of us don’t get very far in life without experiencing the death of someone we love. And by mid-life, where I currently reside, people seem to be kicking off at an alarming rate as parents, mentors even, God forbid, people our own age or younger pass away. That is certainly true for me, having lost my beloved grandparents, my father and my only sibling, a younger brother in the past decade. I’ve gone to more funerals than I wanted to and fewer than I should have, but I still have such uncertainty about grief and mourning.

Being a fifth-generation Californian, I have almost no heritage or tradition that is more than fifty years old. Sure, I am culturally informed enough to roast a turkey at Thanksgiving and that sort of thing, but as to the BIG issues, like the meaning of life and death and the framework in which to place them still has me all bollixed up. My Iowa-born mother saw to our Presbyterian baptisms and we attended Sunday School, but our parents just dropped us off there and picked us up after they’d enjoyed a free hour to read the Sunday paper without more ›

Girlfriends’ Guide To Divorced Parents: Hey Kids, Wanna Have A Sleepover With Daddy’s New Friend?


We may be divorcing, but the father of my kids is still one of the funniest guys I know. He and I were talking on the phone recently and he explained his concept of the 5,000 Mile Rule: neither of us can date anyone who lives nearer than 5,000 miles from our homes in Los Angeles to protect everyone’s feelings — especially the dates’, because our kids are ages fifteen to twenty-one and they would torment them or embarrass them publicly. So, until I finish writing my next book in December, I’m all alone on weekends, but come January I’ll be off to look for Dmitri or Colin or Sancho. As for him, his business in Europe seems to be expanding rapidly and demanding a lot of his time.

For parents of very young children, however, getting the needs of the parents to coincide with the best interests of the children is usually fraught with agony all the way around. We all say we would do anything for our kids, including die for them, but when push comes to shove, most of us resist being inconvenienced, lonely or horny for their sakes.
read more ›

Global Warming: How Having Teenagers Makes Me An Expert On Developing Countries


It’s no coincidence that I waited till the Huffington Post moved all the environmental stuff out of the Living section before I began posting for it. Call me anything, but never call me “earnest,” please. My ecological philosophy goes something like this: Don’t be a pig and clean up your mess to your best ability. Enough said. Reading about carbon footprints just makes me feel guilty and insignificant, particularly now that the G8 meeting is coming to an end in Italy. I may be squinting at under-lit labels in my pantry because I’m using CFL’s and I may be driving a hybrid, but what difference does that make when India and China haven’t even gone through puberty, let alone been invited to the dance. The developed countries have all agreed to a “goal” to limit global warming to no more than 2 degrees, but the hormonal and exceedingly populated developing countries have been trying to act invisible during this part of the summit.

Who can blame them? They haven’t had their Bruce Springsteen moments yet.

They feel born to run and are just itching for affordable cars so that Wendy can wrap her legs ’round these velvet rims. We developed (and I use this term loosely) folks orgiastically indulged in the freedom and sex appeal of cars and now that we’re middle-aged and no longer capable of rising to those emotions, we can’t understand why everyone doesn’t embrace moderation. As the mother of four kids, ages Learner’s Permit to Legal Alcohol Limit, I get the rising titans’ reluctance to restrict their appetites for the stuff all teenagers want. I don’t believe that there is a single hybrid in the senior parking lot of my kids’ high school that isn’t either a pretend fuel economizer (like a Lexus GS450h or the hybrid Tahoe) or their mother’s. Left to their own devices, youths choose fast and big every time. Even if it required a coal-burning engine and a gas mask, teens and China would drive if they more ›

Girlfriends’ Guide To Very Personal Grooming: Business Above The Belt, Party Down Below


I am a fastidious woman. Not an obsessive woman. Not a helplessly narcissistic woman. Just fastidious. My every day routine includes flossing, leg and pit shaving, hair washing and conditioning, pumicing my feet, applying sunblock and clean clothes. You will never find me picking the jeans I wore yesterday off the floor and slipping them back on today. Nor will you see me with my roots grown an inch from my scalp. Not that there’s anything wrong with doing it differently, in fact the hair thing is rather stylish for blondes sometimes, but it’s just not me. Nails done every two weeks, hair colored every three weeks and haircut every four. So when I noticed last winter that a person (this person) does not only get gray hair on her curtains, but that sooner or later it’s bound to show up on her carpet (like nearly a decade later!), I did what any fastidious woman would do–I consulted my more ›

Vicki Iovine – Girlfriends' Guides