Apparently, there aren't any men worth marrying who don't go to the best schools in the country.
I am a 21-year-old Ivy League female. In one year, I will be graduating, which means that according to Susan Patton, I have one year left to find a husband, because GOD forbid I marry someone who isn't from the Ivy League, or even Top 10. Poor Susan, who married so far beneath her! Why bother reading Homer or Ovid if my husband will just be a belly-scratching plebe who I met in a bar instead of at a seminar? I've compiled a list of helpful tools for my fellow single white females to find their husbands and be set for life, so that we don't end up divorced.
Susan Patton's Guide to Finding a Husband:
1. Go to an Ivy League school. Take piano lessons, start a club, become editor-in-chief or student body president, have your parents write your essay. If you don't get into Princeton, at least go to Penn. If you can't afford any of the prerequisites or your four year, multi hundred thousand dollar tuition, please stop reading now.
2. Sign up for all economics, business, naval history, and Victorian literature classes to optimize your exposure to feasible future husbands. No engineers unless, you know, they're white.
3. Find yourself a Judeo-Christian (eat-a-bagel-over-Passover-because-you-forgot-Jewish or CEO Christian; no peyot or Bible groups). He should have a suitable major (please, not art history) and preferably be from the Northeast or at least Chicago. Make sure he's not on financial aid, or even better if he has a library with his name on it. Only date an international student if he's the last Habsburg standing. (No athletes — he may be cute but beauty fades, and after all, that GPA won't get him a financially viable job that will allow you to stay at home painting your toenails while the nanny picks up your kids from XYZ Country Day School and you can call yourself a housewife feminist for fulfilling gender roles stereotypes.)
4. Help him write his cover letters to exclusively brand name acronym companies, like CNN or JPM or the ACLU.
5. Marry him, so that you can wake up every morning and sing your school's fight song to each other in your his & hers towels.
After all, you'll never find your Prince Charming on an airplane, at a friend's birthday party, or even in grad school. (In grad school, you could find yourself a foreigner who went to state school, as my mother did; heaven forbid!) You won't meet him at a job, or in line at TKTS, or at a parade. Nope.
I've got one year left. Rather than write my thesis, I think I'll start taking applications for my own Susan Patton Approved Husband.