Before I begin, a disclaimer: The following work is not a serious (nor, I believe, entirely accurate) rendering of a personals ad. Instead, it has been based on the incredible (and incredibly geeky/nerdy/pretentious–you decide) ads on N+1 Personals, a now-defunct project that attempted to match “sad young literary people” (their words, not mine) with other sad young literary people, without resorting to the indignity that was (then) OKCupid or (now) Tinder.
I’ve actually wanted to write this for ages, but at nineteen I probably–scratch that, definitely–would have taken the exercise (and myself) far too seriously. Now, all I hope is that you laugh with me as I laugh at me. At the very least, you will all understand why I am still single.
(Nearly everything I’ve said is in jest, but maybe it’s worth noting that jokes are half-meant.)
Now that that’s been settled, here we go!
Erstwhile Nabokovian Nymphet Seeks Austen Hero (That You Probably Won’t Expect)
Me: Twenty-odd (well, technically, even) Type A millennial cliché. Inhabits a personality spectrum between Aubrey Plaza and Zooey Deschanel. Too mainstream to be hipster; too pretentious to be mainstream. Fond of hashtags and self-deprecating humour. Reluctant romantic (but when I fall, I’m hopeless) attempting to escape her Taylor Swift-esque songwriting past (with mixed success). Plays guitar (obviously) and ukulele (see millennial cliché, above). Sings, loudly and often.
Boyish-bodied, girl-ish(?) face. Un peu ronde, et parle (un peu de) français. Read “Lolita” at Lolita’s age. Does not pity H.H., but has loved literary (and lingual) in-jokes ever since.
In short: manic pixie dream girl. Minus the pixie. Minus the dream.
You: Twenty-older, (years: no less than one, no more than three). A cross between Henry Tilney and George (or “Alex,” if you prefer your Austen modern) Knightley. Tall or tallish. Far from brooding. Likes long walks in the bookstore, music, and snarking. Can tolerate, or daresay even enjoy, the more-than-occasional goofy two-fie. Tea (or coffee) over tequila. Barcino over Valkyrie. Moderate pain tolerance (worry not, my tastes are far from–*shudder*–“rather singular.”). Witty will save the world.
Mature (whatever that means), but open to keeping company with a metaphorical “kid.” Fancy prose style optional, but preferred (of course). Thick-skinned. Abundant sense of humor. May possibly require the patience of a saint.
I might have a thing for patrician noses, but that’s yet to be proven.
Any takers? No? Didn’t think so. At least that’s one more off the blogging bucket list. At any rate, if you were entertained, wade through more of the same (though arguably better-written) at N+1 Personals Tumblr archive, or check out the highlights reel here. If you dare write your own, drop the link in my comments. I solemnly swear to read them all, as long as they’re in good fun.
Finally, if you’re interested in know what I’m actually looking for regarding the whole dating/romance shebang, check out the Me and My Lists series. Until next time, I remain, yours truly,