Data, A Love Story by Amy Webb

1 Star

 

Ugh. Where do I even begin? This is not a book I'd ever choose to read . . . but I'm doing the library's "romance" challenge in order to score a new coffee mug and this was a suggested selection that I had not already read and one that didn't have a waiting list as long as my arm, so I decided to give it a shot.

Here's the problem I have with memoirs - why do average Joes think their story is the one that should be told . . . and more importantly, that people (beside their friends and family members) would ever be interested in said story????



This book is supposedly about a woman who managed to "game" the system of online dating in order to land herself a hubby. First, ewwww. Who wants to "game" their way to a marriage? I get pissed off with authors/reviewers who want to game the system at Goodreads for crying out loud. Webb came off as a pathetic, jealous schoolgirl who thought it was soooooo unfair that all the pretty girls were getting "likes" instead of her . . .



Second, the "gaming" of which she speaks? Not real. Oh, sure she throws in a bunch of algorithms and mathematical mumbo jumbo that nearly bored my drawers off, but at the end of the day? She really only changed her profile from a resume format into something much more approachable (you know, that another human being might actually want to talk to), and dropped a wad of cash on a new haircut, some make-up, and new clothes in order to make her not so frumpy. It reminded me of the gazillions of teeny-bopper flicks that have the "ugly duckling" makeover reveal . . .



I have no clue what type of person would enjoy this book. Someone who's desperate and hoping some random tips from a stranger will help them hook a big fish on e-Harmony????

Oh, and I can't forget to mention the author has been with her spouse a whopping 8 years. Try doubling that and then adding on a few more to grow on and still feel like you don't have your shit together half the time. Now THAT is reality. Also? Not compromising about some simple things like your spouse enjoying sports (or whatever the case may be) and you fear that will leave you with "too many Sundays" spent by yourself. Just wait 10 or 15 years and you'll be thankful for those couple of free hours on the weekend. And trust me when I say there's nothing wrong with being drug out to the ballgame a few times a year. Beer, brats, bags, and books????



Don't knock it 'til you tried it.

The only saving grace for this story were the author's admitted love for George Michael . . .



Right, the musical George Michael . . .



(although she does claim to be a fan of Arrested Development as well), and that her ideal mate might look a little something like this guy . . .



Sadly, that wasn't enough to make me rate this shallow bit of nonsense more than 1 Star, so let's focus on Goldblum some more : )





3 down - 2 to go. The library challenge which does not kill me only makes me stronger!!!!