I’d be a boldface liar if I didn’t admit that I’ve said a bunch of pretentious bullshit to come off as smarter or more interesting to guys in real life and on the internet, although my OKC profile is more bland than pretentious at the risk of scaring anyone off before they actually get to know me. That being said, I’ve never bragged about having a smooth wooden chair behind a couch. WE GET IT! YOU HAVE A LOT OF FURNITURE! Or perhaps the chair behind the couch is so his manic-depressive dream girl can lay on the couch as he psychoanalyzes her from behind. I’ve never gotten so depressed as quickly as I did in the 114 minutes it took to watch Sylvia. So when someone says they want to meet a woman like her, I can’t help but imagine they’ve got a thing for the depressed. It should be noted that this guy also made a bunch of Wes Anderson references. Perhaps who he’s really looking for is Margot Tenenbaum.
I probably could have been this guy’s dream girl my freshman year of college, during which time I listened to a lot of Elliot Smith and wrote some pretty angsty stuff in an attempt to mimic Plath’s style. But these days I’m writing comedy- a manic mask for depression. And instead of “dark and mysterious,” I’m obnoxious and candid. But my writing feels less contrived than it did then and I’m much happier this way.