In honor of your birthday today, Ryan Gosling, we are re-sending you this love letter.
I think we need to talk.
You have to stop. Just stop. It’s getting to be too much. See, I’m just a girl who sits in a cubicle all day. I have to live in a real world. Not the kind of “real world” with MTV cameras and token drama queens. I live in the kind of “real world” where I have to deal with men who can’t afford to buy me coffee and who can’t emotionally commit. The longer you continue to be so Ryan Gosling, the harder it’s going to be for me to want to live in that world.
For my own sanity and for the sanity of women like me everywhere, I made a list of ways in which you can stop being so Ryan Gosling.
1) Stop being so attractive.
Just look at you.
You’re like Derek Zoolander, dude. You know, you’re really, really, ridiculously good-looking. You’re one of the few men I can think of who can do anything to his hair and I still would find you attractive. Also, you’re not too pretty. You’re gorgeous, but you still look like a man. If you were alive in Ancient Greece, sculptors would use your form as a model for true masculine beauty. (And Aristotle would add “Being Ryan Gosling” to the list of virtues a man should have.) Why is this a problem? Because instead of getting my work done, I’ve been spending my entire day planning our wedding. I’ve looked into how much renting my dream venue, the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum, would be. This is a problem for two reasons. One, I can’t afford it. Two, I’m supposed to be doing expense reports. I realize you can’t control how you look, but if you lived your life with a bag over your head, I’d never have to worry about being fired.
2) Stop adoring women so much.
Every time you are with a woman you have this way of looking at her as though she is the most important thing in the universe.
I think it’s because you might actually appreciate women. You only have nice things to say about ex-girlfriends Sandra Bullock and Rachel McAdams. You still reportedly hang out with your mom and sister. You also say THE BEST THINGS EVER about your female co-stars. When you were doing press for Crazy, Stupid, Love, you said to a reporter, “Show me someone that wouldn’t give it all up for Emma Stone, and I’ll show you a liar.” About Michelle Williams, you said, “She’s like Montana… If you want to get somewhere, you gotta, you gotta drive there. You gotta take the time to get there.” When I first read that, I had no clue what it meant. After three weeks meditating on it during my morning subway commute, I figured it out. It means you are better than any man alive. You’re also probably better than any man who is currently dead (not because you’re still alive and they are not, but because even when they were alive they were not as good at being a man as you are).
3) Stop being so adorable with children.
So, you’re at a premiere for a movie. Are you holding a cigarette in your hand? No. You’re holding a child.
Did you hear that loud boom in the far off distance? Those were my ovaries exploding. That’s it. They’re done. I will never be able to give birth to children of my own because I have seen what you look like when you hold a little girl in your arms. But why would I want to give birth to children of my own when I know they won’t be yours? Do you know how many days of my life I’ve spent crying into my cardigan sleeves because I have to live with the knowledge that I will never give birth to your children? Nine. Technically, I’ve spent fourteen days crying, but the other five happened in the summertime so I wasn’t wearing a cardigan.