In March's Atlantic, Lori Gottlieb writes, "Every woman I know - no matter how successful and ambitious, how financially and emotionally secure - feels panic, occasionally coupled with desperation, if she hits thirty and finds herself unmarried. If you say that you're not worried, either you're in denial or you're lying."

I like Lori Gottlieb. She's hot and she writes well and I like what she has to say most of the time, but telling women to settle? No, no, no! This is like telling women to give up their life dreams for a mundane, ordinary life of so-so sex and suburban painkillers. It's like saying it's not worth it. It's asking for a failed marriage and prescription meds.

There's no such thing as Mr. Perfect or Mr. Right. Lord knows how much I looked for him last summer. What I did find was Mr. Right Now and Mr. Perfect for the Moment. It wasn't about love or lust or romance, true. It was about sex and desire. In my little summer of romantic endeavors and one-night stands, I did end up finding Mr. Perfect for Me. He's far from perfect. He makes mistakes and we make mistakes together. He's not a college graduate. His hair is wild and curly and messy. His hands are always dirty from work and sometimes he can be a prick, but he's everything I could ask for.

I could never tell a woman to forget going after her Mr. Perfect and just go for the next Joe she meets at the bar who, maybe, she has a few little sparks with, if any, but not fireworks. Maybe it's more along the lines of a campfire or a firecracker.

I'm a picky person when it comes to just about everything. I could never date a man who wears pastels or who actually has a stylist and visits them regularly. Sure, maybe it's okay to look for marriage material in a different light, but should you really lower your standards simply because it's better than being single at the age of thirty?

"Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics," Lori writes. Marry the guy with bad breath and who is a recovering junkie on the brink of relapse. It's okay! It's better than being alone! Is it really? Ask most twenty-something women and the replies you'll get most is that we'd rather be alone than in a mediocre relationship with a man we only feel mildly 'eh' about.