When we’re out in public, you may not appear prettier than I am.

You will always smile and say vapid things--cf. your excellent work in Dawson’s Creek.

There will be no sexual contact, but you will give interviews in which you refer to me with provocative nicknames like “Tomcat” and “My Number One Top Gun.”

I will ensure that you get to play the decorative, useless woman character in some big budget franchise movie. Note: Batman Begins will not count toward this obligation.

Don’t look at me with beady, judgmental eyes.

I’m serious.  Don’t you goddamn look at me.

Don’t threaten to overshadow my talent.  You seem harmless (First Daughter, etc) but so did Nicole.

Slouch a bit when you walk with me.  You’re 5’9” and I’m...well, none of your business.

Your brain now belongs to our benevolent alien overlords.

At the end of 15 months, we will have an amiable, publicly staged breakup--at which point I will take up with my War of the Worlds co-star, Dakota Fanning.