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Virginia Libert’s shrink thought she took the job at Google because he had cured her of all her neuroses; he believed she finally realized she needed to put some distance (like 2,955 miles) between herself and Mr. Wrong. He was certain she was fated to become Married. The Blogosphere thought she took the job because she had sold out and only cared about money. They felt she was doomed to become Uninteresting. Her business school friends thought she was too late in taking the job. They thought she was destined to remain Underpaid. Her parents were just glad the weather would be nicer in Mountain View than in New York City, and that she would live in a house with a yard instead of a walk-up with a crazy neighbor. They had given up on grandchildren, and just hoped she would be Happy. The truth is she took the job because Google would let her bring her dog to work. Her Golden Retriever, Rusty, had no expectations of her. Well, it wasn’t only for Rusty. Maybe it was a little bit for her, too. Virginia hoped that Google would be a little bubble of sanity that would allow her to block out the real world and regain composure. The thing that had caused her to lose her composure was just an e-mail. True, it was from Max, the man she had loved, desperately, for ten years. If you had asked her at any point over those years what she wanted more than anything in the world, she would have said, tears in her eyes, it was to marry Max. But, an email? He proposed via email?? The medium is not the message, she told herself. She tried to focus on the fact that suddenly, the thing she had most wanted was within her grasp. All she had to do was hit reply, type out yes, and she was done. But was she ready to be done? What next? Stick a fork in her? Would she be gobbled up like a pork roast? She read the message again. March 7, 2004 1:47 pm max@thehedge.com Virginia@gmail.com Marriage V—Bet that got your attention, didn’t it? This may be unconventional, but you’ve never been a conventional girl—sorry, sorry, woman. It’s just that I had a thought on my flight to London and I can’t get it out of my head. Will you marry me? I'd be up for it if you would. Let me know. MAX “I’d be up for it if you would.” Was this a booty call or a proposal??? It certainly didn’t make her feel loved. To say yes she’d have to believe not only that the medium is not the message but that words have no meaning. A roaring wave of NO swept over her. She didn’t just hit delete. She threw the whole computer out the window. The virtual world met the real world with a clarifying crash as the computer smashed the windshield of a car four stories below. But could any job, even a job at pre-IPO Google, really save Virginia from her Bad Romance? Was an understanding of the algorithms behind online dating networks going to liberate Virginia, or drag her into something even more destructive? Virginia struggles to free herself from the hangups that close her off to what might actually make her happy by fighting recidivism with the sexy and deviant hedge fund manager she’s fleeing, by flirting with the rancher supplying Google’s cafes, and by becoming obsessed with an anonymous stranger she met online...
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