Matchmaker Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

Ok, so my latest obsession is the Millionaire Matchmaker. When I first turned it on, I have to confess, I did so for the obnoxious title. But now all I can talk about is Patti. As in, if you heard me talking, you'd think she was a personal friend. While I can tell you all about this third-generation matchmaker with a 99% success rate, I actually don't know her. But I feel like I do, in a creepy fan way.

Every week Susie and I swap commentary on the episodes "Oh. My. God. you have to see what the Chicago guy does to his date!" and so on. When we're together we imitate the client's accents and generally ridicule everyone on the show. Except Patti. NO one ridicules Patti, not on my watch!

The entertainment includes but is not limited to:

1) being mesmerized by her bangs. I almost cut myself some (I wish I was kidding) but my sister and Michael cautioned me.

2) being mesmerized by the fact that everyone on the show has a spray tan. To the point that one guy tried to come to an event without one, and she CALLED HER PERSONAL SPRAY TAN girl to come with her little wheelie case and make it happen.

3) watching some guy make his butler feed him grapes. of course this guy was the *one* Persian on the show. of course.

4) watching a guy refer to himself in the third person in the most obnoxious Chicago accent ever. "it's JIMMY D time!!!" "Jimmy loves Polish girls" etc.

5) watching her assistant quietly take suggestions and apply them to her own life. Chelsea has gotten way better looking over the season.

6) watching a woman who looked like she had been microwaved (she was an import from Minnesota) tell Patti she needed a makeover. YIKES!

7) watching a guy pick twins as his date as if they counted, together, as ONE date. and having the girls say they're half Indian and half Persian. knowing it was NOT their Persian side that allowed them to go on a tv dating show. Laughing thinking of how their parents will kick their asses when they find out.

and that's just a sampling, folks. It's an hour a week of Patti calling people out on poor manners, bad behavior, and gross appearances.

The good news for the bookworms out there was that Patti wrote a book. My sister emailed me immediately about it, OBVIOUSLY. So I ordered it and 2 nights later it was here. The same night I was 150 pages into her wisdom. She is just as freakin funny in the book as she is on tv. I didn't learn much more than I would have thought before, although there were new tips like "men like long, straight hair" and "text him only 1 for every 4 times he texts you" to ponder. She constantly reiterates that "women are jewels to be adored", which I can appreciate when I'm not rolling my eyes about it.

For like a half-second I was tempted to go to one of her "casting calls", but then my bank account called and said "Um, you aren't hiring a photographer to do Glamour Shots.... Besides, Patti won't accept the mall variety of Glamour Shots. Everyone knows that."

Then my Pride clicked in on the other line and said "Um, I don't think so."

This same self also reminded me that I don't do cattle call meatmarketing (see also: my accidental Bachelor audition).

So now I have a reason to become a Millionairess! I'm very excited about my new plan. I'm going to write Patti stat and let her know to save some room.

Finally, someone to do the dirty work for me.