If you want to find a man you have to think outside the box. Like Katniss. You have to make bold choices. Like Jessica Wakefield from Sweet Valley High.

That’s why I’m at this Judy Blume reading, standing in the back of a Barnes & Noble, waiting for the queen of young adult fiction to arrive. Certainly a force of robust male energy will follow.

Sure, right now the crowd is a bunch of women in our 30s and 40s, wearing unnecessary scarves and carrying tote bags with politically clever mottos silkscreened across them. But I’m optimistic that this place will soon be crawling with stud muffins, one of whom will sweep me off my Chaco’s, rip off my merino wool cardigan, and ravish my vitamin-D deficient body behind the rack of Sudoku puzzles.

Or maybe I’ll bump into an all-American hottie, like the cute bespectacled high school senior Michael Wagner who popped Katherine’s cherry in Forever. He’ll take away my Nalgene bottle so that he can tenderly hold my hands, gaze deeply into my eyes, and eagerly nibble my neck in the memoir aisle.

Or maybe I’ll sneak off to the fantasy sci-fi shelves and make out with a steamy hunk of an older guy like that hot tennis instructor, Theo, who Katherine meets at camp and whose firm biceps persuade her it’s actually completely insane to stay with the guy who took your virginity forever.

Or maybe I’ll meet a single dad.

I think I see one now, carrying a day-by-day Dilbert calendar. He’s a bit pudgy, but obviously a feminist since he’s brought his preteen daughter to the reading.

I can picture it now. We’ll make eye contact. I’ll drop my paperback copy of Deenie. He’ll retrieve it and smile. And then the tween, who’s named Alexa or Sophie, will get her period for the very first time. The dad will be completely helpless. I’ll laugh and wink. “Don’t worry, I use to watch Blossom,” I’ll say as I push him aside, revealing my copy of Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret from my I LIKE BIG BOOKS AND I CANNOT LIE canvas tote. I’ll take Alexa’s/Sophie’s hand, escort her to the bathroom, and show her how to use a tampon.

The dad will be so in awe of my humor and ability to handle awkward female things that we’ll fall in love like Gus Waters and Hazel Grace from The Fault in Our Stars, except without all that cancer business. Or like Captain Von Trapp and Maria, minus the curtains and Nazis.

I’ll get to avoid pregnancy but still experience motherhood! Except I’ll be more of a bestie/mentor-type to the daughter — like Lauren Graham in every coming-of-age show she’s on. As a bonus, I’ll have a person to take care of me when I’m old and feeble and the entire thing will air on the CW this fall!

I’m so happy I’m thinking outside the box. Are you there God? It’s me, no longer dying alone!