Reader to Julia: You are a Trite, Hackneyed, Platitude-Loving Truism of a Cliché
"Seriously, the only thing more cliché than going to Harvard, is maybe being a Sex/Dating Columnist in New York City." - Justin (commenting on yesterday's post about me crashing the Harvard 045856 party)
Oh yeah? What about a sex columnist in New York who went to Harvard for Law School and just coincidentally had blonde hair? That would be EVEN MORE cliché! And then, what if she were friends with two girls and three guys, and they all hung out in a coffee shop called Central Perk!! HOW CLICHÉ WOULD THAT BE, HUH, JUSTIN??? HUH???
Okay. Fine. Look, Justin, we need to talk. You are, unfortunately, totally fucking accurate. I've ruminated on this conundrum for many an unproductive day (and with me, that would be most days). How does a New York dating columnist kick the Carrie-Bradshaw-was-played-out-seven-years-ago-and-even-Magnolia-Bakery's -fucking-over-it thing?
Wow. Two f-bombs in one paragraph. Obviously clichés upset me.
Anyway, so far I haven't come up with an answer, other than changing jobs, which isn't really an option because I don't have any actual skills.
Hmm ... I guess I could go to law school, actually, now that I think about it.
If someone has an idea about how I can possibly lift the dark cloud of banality from my chosen occupation, please do share. A dozen sex & dating columnists await your brilliance with bated breath and vibrators set to "on." (Okay, that last part made no sense. I don't care. I just wanted to put the word "vibrator" in there. It's a sex columnist thing.)
And, oh yeah - in case you needed to comment, other synonyms for cliché include: stale, overused, hackneyed, worn out, threadbare, commonplace, old chestnut. Yeah, you heard me right. OLD CHESTNUT. I checked the thesaurus, bitches.
WHO'S A CLICHÉ NOW??