A love letter to Gwyneth Paltrow.
The other day I was scrollin' my newsfeed and saw this:
After my comment, she unfriended me, so I decided to take a more direct route and write her a letter.
Rock, paper, scissors? Just kidding. That's my opening Tinder line, and I respect you much more than I respect those floozies on Tinder. In this fast-paced world, Tinder is just my way of speed dating. You know, like in Hitch. But you? You're more than that. You're the kind of girl that I want to take to coffee and say things like, "I've really been trying to spend more time on my art" and "Maybe the most important relationship in your life right now is with yourself" to. I mean, when I saw you in Shallow Hal, I was all like "Wow, this movie really showcases her great personality and that 300 lb fat suit would look great crumpled up on my bedroom floor." But, for now, lets just take things slow.
I heard about your break up - sorry, "conscious uncoupling" - with Chris. How is that going? Trick question, I already know because it's been plastered all over the news. In the immortal words of Little Eva, breaking up is hard to do. Take it from me - in 8th grade I asked a girl out by playing hangman (_ _LL YO_ GO O_T _ITH M_?) and then she dumped me after a month for the star of the basketball team.
But I'm not here to talk about the break-up itself. I'm here to talk about how you're handling it, and I want to talk to you about your recent Instagram from your vacation with Chris in the Exuma Islands. I'm troubled by this. While I used to love listening to "Stay Together For The Kids" by Blink 182 in high school, I think this whole "I'm-going-to-go-on-vacation-with-my-separated-husband" thing may be a little premature for you. "Oh dear," you're thinking, "What do you know about relationships?" Well Gwyn (can I call you Gwyn?), while I ain't no Doctor Phil, I did just complete all 12 episodes of Real World: Ex-plosion as well as the supplemental episodes - The $H!@ They Didn't Show and Real World: Ex-Plosion Reunion. And if Tom and Hailey's relationship taught me anything, it's that Tom and Jamie would have never worked out had Hailey stayed in the house. I'd explain the situation further but I'm sure that, as an avid fan of the Real World, you're already familiar with the long and short of it. Recently separated lovers need space, Gwyn. Maybe the most important relationship in your life right now is with yourself. (Me right now.)
Now, I'm not here to talk poorly about Chris. If I was, I'd be saying things like "he comes off like a huge pussy", "his lyrics smell feminine", and "his bracelets are dumb." But Gwyn, personal jabs at your ex are juvenile and obviously not the way to your heart. You're a multifaceted broad with more layers than a pregnant Kardashian. I get that. So here's my proposal - let's get together over green drinks and a farm-to-table dinner cooked by super-chef Mario Batali at his vacation house near my hometown. Oh, you're friends with Mario Batali and you love farm-to-table meals complete with green drinks? Looks like we're off on the right foot then. Just give me a date and I'm there. Luckily for both of us, blog life lends itself to being accommodating to movie stars when they want to grab dinner. I'd tell you to bring nothing but your A-Game and a bottle of wine, but when I Google'd "Is Gwyneth Paltrow sober?" I was too lazy to read all the results. So what I'm saying is that if you're not sober, bring a nice, earthy, grass-fed Pinot Noir for us to crush. But, if you are sober, I like tooootally respect that and will support you along the way. I'm really not much of a drinker myself. (Me, again.)
PS. Someone must have hacked my Spotify and listened to Coldplay's "Magic" recently because that obviously totally not-a-chance-in-hell really was not me.
PPS. Keep your eyes peeled for a package from this one website called Goop. It's just a little something that reminded me of you. I'd really like to buy it all for you because I think you'd really like this site, but my bank account isn't that of your ex's/my future Eskimo brothers Brad Pitt, Ben Affleck, and fuckin' Chris.