My Dearest Natalie,
So this is what it's come to. All those years of idolization, the embarrassing affinity for Queen Amidala and the even more embarrassing tendency to see movies like "Anywhere but Here" or "Where the Heart Is" on opening night and this is how I'm rewarded. I know you have a history of dating avant-garde guys, hell that's part of your appeal...but now you're dating the one man on earth weirder than Lukas Haas and a dude that I can un-arrogantly and unequivocally say I'm better looking than. You and this guy? You and this guy!
Look I know you're different than most celebrities. And if I didn't every magazine cover story ever done on you ever would have clued me in. You're not Lauren Conrad. You aren't dating the world's Chase Crawfords and Wilmer Valderammas. But you want to date a guy that says "I enjoy the films of Jim Jarmusch and the early works of Thomas Pynchon" not a guy that says "I spend entirely too much time at the Monrovia Trader Joe's and decided to become a vegetarian after reading Skinny Bitch." I mean doesn't this guy come free from Urban Outfitters with the purchase of two Busted Tees? I can tell you what this guy's apartment looks like without ever having been in it, there's the Lebowski Nixon Bowling poster, an ironically owned Road House DVD and a framed copy of the alternative album cover for the Beatles Yesterday and Today...
If you asked this guy for his favorite movie isn't there a 110% probability his answer would be "foreign films?"
You're Natalie Portman! Is dating this guy yet another humanitarian project?!? Don't you have a group of girlfriends to council you about relationships? Zooey Deschanel isn't with you right now telling you how much of a mistake this is? You're supposed to be dating Princes, or Prince, or Prince Fielder. Not the dude who spent three hours on the Albuquerque to Austin Greyhound talking to me about the merits of gravity bongs.
Aging gracefully is difficult. Especially when approaching 30. I know this entirely too well. I know it must be unrewarding to have impeccable musical taste when most of the world would rather talk about William Hung and the Creed comeback album. I know it must be confusing that at this juncture people would be more excited to find out you'd gone to Florida State than Harvard...at least you could be filmed standing sideline with Jenn Sterger at Seminoles games. But this guy is the wrong reaction. Dating this guy is the emotional equivalent of starring in that "Darjeeling Unlimited" short, only this time I don't have an erection.
This is none of my business, acknowledged, and no matter how hard I may have attempted to pretend it was for Scarlett Johnasson's cleavage I still went to see "the Other Boelyn Girl" exclusively for you in a corset. But the reality is unless your boyfriend is really Charles Manson escaped or Alan Moore out of hiding I'm pretty disappointed in you.
It has been called to my attention presently that Ms. Portman and her paramour are apparently on the outs. Good news, but I leave this up for posterity's sake, lest she humor the idea of reconnecting with him.