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Dear Little Miss Know-It-All: My fiance, Tommy, and I want to hold our wedding in Cancun, Mexico and fly my best friends there for free.

The bad news is that my dad says he won't pay for it. He thinks we're too young (Sheesh, I'll be 20 in three years). He said he'd pay for a wedding in our local church if we invite the same old boring friends and family we see every day. And only when I turn 21, and only if my fiance gets a job. What should I do? -- Why Me in Massachusetts

Dear Why Me: Can't you see that your control-freak dad is trying to wreck your life? You've got to get out of that house as soon as possible by running away and marrying Tommy right away. He sounds dreamy. As soon as you're married, you'll find that all your problems will magically disappear. Suddenly you'll be happy with the way you look and you'll be comfortable with your weight. Everyone will suddenly like you, even those snobby kids at your high school.

I think you should pay for the wedding yourself by maxing out all your credit cards (both yours and Tommy's). Besides, after the wedding, you won't need any money, because you'll have each other.

Maybe your father doesn't know it, but it's a well-known fact that the more money you spend on your wedding, the better your marriage will be. Don't let anyone, especially your unbelievably stupid father, step on your dreams. I wouldn't even invite him to the wedding.

Dear Little Miss Know-It-All: I'm 16 and I want to be a football star or a basketball star. Or maybe a golf legend. The problem is that my parents want me to apply to one of those colleges that barely even has a sports team, like Harvard or MIT, just because I get good grades. They want me to be a scientist or a professor. How do I convince him that being smart is a dumb career move? -- Concerned in Mineola

Dear Concerned: Sometimes you wonder where parents get these silly ideas. A scientist. As if Nike is ever going to pay you millions of dollars to wear their swoosh on your lab coat.

Still, let's get real. You may never become a $30 million-a-year athlete. You may only be a $5 million- or $6 million-a-year athlete. If you don't think you can live with that kind of bitter disappointment, you might as well go to Harvard. I suppose it can't hurt.

Dear Little Miss Know-It-All: I plan to win "American Idol" this year, but I'm worried about what to do with the million dollars after I win. You're the only person I can talk to. Should I spend it on fancy cars, designer clothes and jewelry, or should I just waste it on silly stuff? What do you think? -- Tired of Waiting

Dear Tired: Spend it all, baby! And why wait until you win? Spend it now and pay it back after you win.

Dear Little Miss Know-It-All: I met a guy on a computer dating service. He says he'd like to see me in person, but he can't afford to travel all the way. He lives two states away and he's really cute. Should I send him the $600 he needs to get here and back, or not? -- Confused in Columbus

Dear Confused: Is $600 enough? He may think you're a cheapskate. Why not send him a thousand to show him what a nice person you are? He sounds like a nice guy; I'm sure he'll pay you back. After all, you met him online. What could go wrong? You know, it's funny that he can afford a computer but not airfare. I don't know what that's all about, but I'm sure it will all become clear once you meet him.

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Jim Mullen is the author of "It Takes a Village Idiot: Complicating the Simple Life" and "Baby's First Tattoo."