Today I enjoyed reading the n+1 personals. My favorites are THE GIRL WHO WASTES HER TIME DETECTING EMOTIONAL NUANCE IN ARROGANT INTELLECTUALS and THE SEMI-PUT-TOGETHER UPTOWN BOY, but I’m rooting the hardest for THE ACADEMIC LADY, because being a woman in philosophy ain’t easy.
Were I on the n+1 market, which I’m not, mine might go like this:
THE WOMAN WHO ISN’T A GIRL OR A LADY
I do things with statistics and write about it for a living. It’s a great life where those who mind that I dress badly mind quietly. Someday I want to have a dishwasher and a dog. I already have a canoe. I’ll always want to share food at the restaurant, but if you eat the thing that I was saving, I will hunt you down first and then come after your loved ones. I know how to chair a meeting and I strive to use this power for good. My house is always a mess. It’s worse than you were imagining when you read that line. I am aware that ostentatiously close female friendships are part of the performance of being a girl, and this awareness does not make me value them less. I like pink and Pink. I will beat you at card games. I will gloat but never cheat. You don’t have to read all my favorite books, but you might have to listen to me explain at great length why I love them, where ‘might’ means ‘will definitely.’ I’ll repeat myself; I’m sorry. I can be the low-brow to your high-brow. In less than a month I’ll be able to do 100 pushups. I believe in humanity, its dignity and equality and all its possibilities. I have a problem with the internet. I laugh easily and loudly, and then I get angry that men are considered funny if they tell good jokes, and women are considered funny if they laugh at men’s jokes. I tell jokes. Pay attention to me. I used to be afraid of spiders but I’m getting better. I have written a long paragraph about myself and said nearly nothing about you. That’s because I don’t know you yet. I am enthusiastic. I am available for coffee.
…I’m thinking it’s a pretty good thing I’m not on the n+1 market.
Pop quiz: Whose n+1 is this?
THE BOY WHO CAN HEAR YOU OVER THE MUSIC
I’ll pick you up anyplace anytime, but the stereo is mine. It might be Afrobeat. It might be techno. It won’t be Ke$ha: that’s not OK.
…No. It isn’t. It’s appalling.
…I might be a little judgmental. I might be a little angry, but it’ll be OK. I don’t care what anyone else thinks; I just want to know what you do. I’ll listen.
I guess I have to withhold tagging this post until someone gets it in the comments. Now you write one!