One of my tasks here at Bitch headquarters is to open the mail and keep an inventory of the books and CDs that are coming in for possible review. Today I arrived at the office, tired and doped up on DayQuil, needing a basket in which to place all of my angsty eggs and I found that basket in this week's *Most Ridiculous Book To Be Shipped To Bitch For Possible Review In Our Magazine*. The title: Smart Girls Marry Money. The back cover description:
"Why does society applaud a girl who falls for a guy's 'big blue eyes' yet denounces one who chooses a man with a 'big green bankroll'? After all, isn't earning power more a reflection of a man's values and character? Smart Girls Marry Money challenges the ideals and assumptions women have blindly accepted about love and marriage--and shows how they've done so at their own economic peril. In this brazen manifesto, authors Elizabeth Ford and Daniela Drake use cold hard facts, real science, and true stories to present a compelling case for why mercenary marriages make the most sense for future happiness.
"Smart Girls taps into a growing collective suspicion that the post-feminist world isn't all it's cracked up to be. Ford and Drake think it's high time that women get their heads out of the clouds and start carring about their own security--the kind that can be measured in dollars and common sense. With an irreverent, straight-talk tone, the authors serve up a sound case and intriguing strategy for how women can truly 'have it all.' Sure to spark conversation and controversy, Smart Girls Marry Money will ultimately empower women with a new way to take control of their economic and romantic lives."
Whoa. This spells disaster for me, since laying out my past year's earnings on a table next to a 16-year-old girl's would make the two of us nearly indistinguishable. So if my income is indeed, as the description suggests, a "reflection of [my] values and character", then not only am I not a catch, I should also probably be hanging out down at the Orange Julius flirting with the high school football team. That's okay. I don't need a crystal ball (or, in this case, a book) to tell me that I've got a long life of cats and Roseanne re-runs ahead of me. Hey, it beats being with someone who's just after my money!
I can just picture this book's publicist sitting in her chair thinking, "Bitch will probably never in a million years review this 'post-feminist' analysis of gold-digging in the 21st Century, but what the heck!" Well, she was half right. It's only getting a blog post, and that blog post is only addressing the back cover. But who knows- maybe I'll crack open a bottle of cheap wine and actually read the damn thing. It could be fun!