It has been brought to my attention that there could be a fourth reason why men would not want to read a blog about relationship advice written by a woman (more specifically, by me), and that could be this:
The advice is stupid.
“Make it rain”? Really, Jenny—make it rain?
Not “fix a sink” or “change a tire” or anything that can actually be done. No, no. Obtain the powers of a deity and alter the universe!
Also, it must be noted, Ted’s character is probably based a woman. The things he does are things that I would do, and, well, I’m a woman. Case in point: He’s someone who would show up at Robin’s door after their relationship had ended just to say, “I’m here because I still love you, and even though we stopped talking months ago, I couldn’t let it end that way. I had to see you again.”
MEN IN REAL LIFE DON’T DO THAT. They think, “There’s other fish in the sea,” and move on. Only Hollywood, stalkers, and Adele would think to do that kind of thing.
Finally, the last reason a woman’s-advice-to-men blog could not exist is that no greater good would be served: the author would not be directing her advice to the general public but rather one person in two billion whom she hopes will be reading. Ulterior motives. Hidden agendas. Hell hath no fury. It’s sadly all true.
To quote one of my students: “It is things like those little double standards that put the battle of the sexes into view due to the false notations the opposite gender put into view.”
So there. Now that I’ve thrown everybody under a bus, I am moving on.
I start school this week. Once upon a time, I was a dedicated, anxiety-ridden teacher, overzealous in my preparation: I read and wrote and planned lessons and created syllabi in advance. Now, however, I just watch Netflix and write blogs and recall that on their finals, my students wrote things like: “The world virtuoso has two means,”* and I realize nothing that I do really matters.
I’ve also enrolled in graduate classes to obtain my teaching license, which I can already tell is going to be the cherry on my cake this semester. It always impresses me how I can write an email to a college advisor asking a very specific question, and he or she replies to something completely different in a condescending tone that makes me feel dumb for asking a question which I actually DIDN’T EVEN ASK.
It’s football Sunday. We’re getting down to the wire, and with the Broncos f-ing everything up, that leaves us with, what? The Patriots? [“Hey Buzz, your girlfriend? Woof.”] By the way, has anyone else noticed that Tom Brady’s initials are the same as that for tuberculosis? Not that that’s as pertinent to his character as, say, chlamydia, but still.
I think I’ll go for the Seahawks because their coach looks like Andy Reid, and I can pretend that it’s really the Eagles out there during the days of McNabb when we had still had dreams of success.**
Oh, how I miss the days of playing Fantasy Football.
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* the word virtuoso has two meanings
** it has also been brought to my attention that during the course of writing this blog, the Seahawks are now also out.
They Call Me Fushilou 
I was so bummed about the Seahawks. Their kicker, Hauschka, and I played soccer at Middlebury. He missed today’s game though, which is probably good, they might have tried a 60 yard fg with him on the last play.
Wow, no kidding! You are such a stud, Nik. Of COURSE you’ve played soccer with an NFL kicker.
I’m bummed about the Seahawks, too. Even though their head coach is no longer the guy who looks like Andy Reid, I still like them.
Who is Jerry Cunnier. For real? Maybe I’ll start signing my name Sherry Cullier.
He’s a friend from Dartmouth who was just trying to be clever. But I like your new pen-name!