Tag Archives: boyfriends

Dear Online Dating Profiles

19 Apr

Note: I am a HUGE FAN of online dating, and I recommend it to all of my friends. I know people who have met online and are ridiculously happy and well matched. I also know people who started online dating and immediately met somebody in the “real world.” I don’t actually do it myself. This is not because I wouldn’t do it, but rather because I’m not actively trying to meet somebody at this point in my life. That being said, be safe, be persistent, and for the love of god, tell me all your stories.

But the profile creation process is ridiculous.

MM

  • Self summary - Skinny. Curly hair. Crooked nose. Feminist. Oh wait, am I not supposed to say this? Probably not. I did just read some online profile advice which gave an A+ to a profile that reads:

“Myself – restless, analytical, and opinionated. I am not offended by a dirty joke and can dish out one of my own. I am independent but far from being a feminist. Sarcasm is a spice of life, so bring it on. [Reviewer's comment: Guys really, really like to hear that.]“

UM. Why the need to distance yourself from being a feminist? First of all, being opinionated and independent is being a feminist.

Secondly, you really feel the need to qualify your claim of being independent?!? “Oh hey, guys, I’m independent, but not so independent I think I need equal rights or the ability to vote or anything like that! Hell no! I just mean that I can tie my own shoes, except I don’t need to, because I only wear high heels, even when I’m working out, which keeps me from being able to go too far, so don’t worry about me leaving the house.”

Thirdly, FEMINIST IS NOT A DIRTY WORD. It means you think women and men are equal.

I’M A FEMINIST AND I HOPE ANYONE I DATE IS ONE TOO.

And oh yeah: sarcasm. Right up with there with rosemary, thyme, and chili powder. One of the great spices of life! Oh wait, THAT’S NOT A PHRASE. But I sure am glad guys really, really like to hear it. Just how sarcastic do you like it? Because it’s pretty spicy in this neck of the woods, fellows.

  • What I’m doing with my life - God, I don’t know. Does anyone? This seems like an unfair question. It’s sending me into an existential spiral of doubt and questioning….FINE. I’ll say it. I’m in poetry school.
  • I’m really good at - I am a crackerjack parallel parker. I am also good at typing, spelling, and recounting conversations word-for-word.

What kind of stupid question is this? Do people traditionally answer this with a list of bedroom skill sets? I hope men still feel pressure to answer this with “man skills”: I’m good at sawing up shit and pounding nails and building log cabins. RAWR. And then girls can be all: I’m known for my pies two counties over! I’m excellent at wearing aprons, pearls, and keeping my mouth shut (except when you want it open, HEY-O)!

This is not a resume. But I did mean that thing I said about typing.

  • The first thing people usually notice about me - my intensity. WHAT?
  • Favorite books, movies, shows, music and food -

Well, first of all, another article I read recommends that women not describe themselves as “attractive” or “intelligent.” Errrrrrrr. Okay. (To be fair, they basically argue those words are vague and have no meaning. Which, from a writer’s standpoint, I agree with. On the other hand, the article manages to be sexist anyway.)

One of the commenters said this: “Actually name some books other than Bridget Jones Diary that you’ve read. What, you’ve never heard of Jonathan Franzen? Never read a book on politics or history? Fine, but you won’t be approached by intelligent men.”

OH MY SWEET LITERARY HAVEN. Jonathan Franzen is who you choose to mention? If you’ve never heard of FRANZEN you can’t expect to be approached by intelligent men?!? Let me tell you something, buster, Franzen is not Shakespeare, and having “heard” of someone is hardly a test of intelligence. Talk about revealing yourself as someone who reads The New Yorker so you can sound impressive on first dates.

And now I’m not going to name ANY books I’ve read, because I don’t want pretentious faux-literati like yourself emailing me.

  • The six things I could never do without - books, coffee, a bed, sleep, hot showers, meat (I will never be a vegetarian. Speaking of vegetarians, I don’t much want to date one. I have. It’s just– well…god, this is sexist and I’m going to say it anyway– there’s just something not-that-sexy about a man who doesn’t eat meat. Also it’s inconvenient. It’s a food restriction, albeit a fairly mild one, and I just want to eat, dammit.)
  • I spend a lot of time thinking about - gender roles, relationships, language, pop culture and celebrities. Stories. People and what they say and how they act and what it means.
  • On a typical Friday night I am - watching a Netflix movie. Sometimes going out to dinner. Sometimes dancing if I can find anybody to go with me. Oh, screw it, I’m usually in bed by eleven.
  • The most private thing I am willing to admit - is not very private. Anything I say here will be something that everyone knows about me. Why would I possibly reveal an actual secret to the Internet? This is bullshit. If you reveal an actual private thing here, you’re an idiot.
  • You should message me if . . .you’re a book publisher and you have a book deal for me. Or if I already know and like you. Otherwise you should stay the f*ck away, since this isn’t actually an online dating profile.

Dear Guys

3 Nov

Dear Guys,

What have your girlfriends been telling you about your clothes?  Hmmm?  Yeah.  You should listen.  You know why?

When you dress well, we get confused and then we want to make out with you on public transportation.

And as the article points out, there is a middle ground between your favorite ratty t-shirt with cargo pants and the perfect suit.  It’s called jeans that fit right with cool shoes and a (lady)killer jacket.

Here’s the thing: we read clothes as code— for your age, profession, success, sexuality, sense of self, ability to tie your own shoes and leave the house in the morning.  If you dress well… well, you just might confuse the social boundaries and find yourself in a whole new pond of fish.  The fisherwoman might think you’re a marlin when really you’re a guppy.  A shark when you’re a platypus.  A rare exotic catfish when you’re a bottomdweller.  Or a salmon.

I don’t really know how insulting I’m being right now, and I’m out of fish names.

My point is not that we should all be shallow (but we are), and we do rely on external signs as we size people up in coffeeshops.  And why not look as good as you secretly are?

Sustainable fishing is never a bad thing (I have no idea what this metaphor is at this point), so why not wear shoes that make her hit on you / try to make out with you before she finds out you’re unemployed and living in your parents’ basement?

I probably shouldn’t be encouraging this, actually.  Cool shoes really are a potent force in the world.  We should all use them responsibly.

xoxoxoxo (literally),

MM

Dear B.J. Novak

25 Oct

Dear B.J. Novak,

Here’s the deal.  I’m hoping you’ll actually see this letter.  Because after watching this, I’ve come to believe a couple of things: 1. You regularly search the internet for your own name, variations of your name, and for the name of the fictional character you portray.  2.  We would really like each other.

Hear me out, ok?  We both really hate the way iTunes continually upgrades.  I wrote that letter before I watched you hosting the Webby awards.  I have no way to prove that to you.

Also!  Your parents established a Jewish matchmaking service (oh yeah, I Wikipediaed the hell out of you).  I spend a lot of time recommending my Jewish friends go on JDate.  I have an inordinate fondness for JDate.  I could start to recommend your parents’ service instead if you want.  I mean, part of my attachment to JDate is the name, which I think is awesome, but I’m not on it myself, and I’m not even Jewish, so I’m really not all that attached.  And now every time I see the name jeggings I think, Jewish leggings.  Obviously it’s time for a switch.

And I get that you’re into Natalie Portman.  She’s brunette, she’s smart, she’s Natalie Portman.  Hell, I’m into Natalie Portman.  On the other hand…I am not Natalie Portman, which might have its advantages.  Like: I’m not vegan.  Vegan people: the hardest friends in the world to please.  They don’t even pretend to be accommodating.  And they certainly don’t pretend not to judge you.  That sucks.  Nothing like a judge-y face to ruin a good hamburger and fries with a milkshake.  And they don’t even appreciate it if you offer them the tomato.  No gratitude whatsoever.

Now I have to hope you’re not vegan, too, B.J. Novak, but if you are, it never would have worked anyway.  C’est la vie.

Anyway, B.J. Novak, you’re clearly narcissistic.  You’re probably also deeply insecure.  Clearly this is not a new psychoanalysis of the profile of a writer, but I feel it bears repeating here.  Since you twitter-search for misspellings of your own name.  B.J.  The letter B.  Followed by the letter J.  How many ways are there to misspell that, exactly?  It’s a word that spells itself!  It’s made for Sesame Street.

Although I’m still not sure that justifies the beatings you probably took as a kid– what exactly was wrong with Benjamin?  Or Ben?  Or Joseph?  Was this an industry thing, where you were an adult and looking to make a name, and you thought everyone would be mature enough to move on?  Because I’m pretty sure Hollywood loves a good penis joke as much as the next playground.

Or is this a thing you use to separate out bros from potential friends?  If a dude giggles when you introduce yourself, he’s gone.  Out of the Novak entourage.  I have a friend who does that.  She tells people in bars she’s a “feminist studies major” then judges them by their reaction.  She swears it’s fullproof.  Personally, I just avoid talking to people in bars.  That’s foolproof too.  It also leaves me more time for writing things on the internet and baking and writing poems.

Man.  From that description, you would not think I have the level of social skills or personal hygiene that I do, in fact, possess.  Just took a shower and talked to some people today, in fact.

At any rate, B.J., you can find me here: dearmrpostman [at] gmail [dot] com.  I sincerely hope you do. I’m a big fan of your work.

Cheers,

MM

Dear September Clouds in San Diego

8 Sep

Dear September Clouds in San Diego,

Well, hi….  I, um, didn’t expect to see you here.  Weren’t you….?  I mean, I came because I thought….?

Well.  This is awkward.  How…are things?  Good?  Yes, it has been a while.  I’ve been good, yes, keeping busy.  Well, yes, Sunshine and I have been hanging out, nothing serious, we are thinking about moving in together, but that’s kind of a convenience thing, you know, since I had to move anyway and all…it’s not like it’s a permanent arrangement….just a few years is all, we think, we’re not sure.

But!  Really great to see you!  Really.  You look good.  Nice even color you have there, and streamlined across the whole sky– you’ve been taking care of yourself.  Who could resist a little fling?  You do look so nice to cuddle up with for a short time.

(And the timing—- Sunshine just happens to be out of town.  I wonder…..maybe…..but no.  No. It takes awhile before the deeper problems show up, but they’re still there: the inertness, the paralyzing inability to move faster than “the wind dictates”—-sheesh, who even buys that crap…. takes awhile before your darkness truly shows its day-to-day weariness….Well! I hope your new girlfriend, whoever she may be, has an irrepressibly sunny spirit.  And) I truly am happy to see you— you’ll be in town just a few days?  Right?  Right???

Best,
MM

Dear Kindle Readers

9 Aug

Dear Kindle Readers,

How am I supposed to know what you’re reading?  And therefore, how am I supposed to know if you’re smart?  Or shallow?  How am I supposed to strike up a conversation without being able to say, “Oh, I read that”?

(I guess I could try it anyway.  And then try to bullshit my way through it when you say in response: “Oh, really?  You read Everything You Need to Know About Elephants and Your 18th Century British Trading Company?”)

How am I supposed to know if you’re someone I want to date?

I mean, come on, I already can’t see you walking down the street and judge you by the music on your boombox.  Further into our relationship, I can’t walk into your apartment and check out your record collection, or even your cassette tapes, or your cds.

And now I can’t judge you by your book cover?!?  This. is. tragic.  This is a catastrophe for the modern world.

I mean, yes, you probably wouldn’t have spent $189.00 on a digital reading device if you aren’t a so-called “reader.”  And yes, with a Kindle, I too could avoid being judged when I want to read trash in public.  (And sometimes a girl needs to read a little trash. Why else do you think we get haircuts so often and it takes us so long?)

But what about when I’m reading something smart?  How will you know I’m intellectual and hip if you can’t see that I’ve got a sustainable food narrative in my hands?  That I’m scholarly and literary if you can’t see the frayed edges of my well-loved Aeneid?  That I’m sensitive and artistic if Collected Poems isn’t typeset across my book cover?

I mean, seriously, what’s next?  Do I have to judge you based solely on whether or not you have a fixed-gear bicycle? What’s going to happen to all the New Yorker readers when it stops printing hard copies?  Will they have to wear name tags to identify themselves to one another as being fit for cultural conversation?

Will we all stop wearing clothing so I won’t even be able to judge you by the stitching on your jeans pockets???

Say it ain’t so,

MM

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