I have a subscription to New York Magazine. I like to read it because the cover articles tend to be edgy and intelligent, and the publication as a whole tends to be more pop culture friendly than their slightly stuffy counter-periodical, The New Yorker. If you don’t live in NYC or around it, you might not have heard about NY Mag, which is fine. It’s a little inside-jokey. A little self-referential — cultivating a between-the-lines feeling that the New York publishing world is the center of the universe.

But like that slightly snotty friend who turns around and buys everyone a round of drinks at the bar, I just can’t seem to break up with NY Mag and read my weekly copy faithfully. There’s only one thing about the periodical that really bothers me, and it usually can be skipped over quite readily…unless of course, you’re me, reading it last night.

You see, yesterday I had a long day. The bus ride back from work was so packed it induced claustrophobia, and two people decided to get into a screaming match that included gems such as “SHUT UP, RETARD!!”, “YOU’RE THE RETARD!!”, “ON YOUR MOM!!”, “ON YOURS, MINE’S DEAD!!”. When I got home, my internet and cable were still not working…a problem left over from the weekend, and it was probably around 105 F in my apartment. Pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I sat down and decided to spend the evening reading, and my new copy of New York Magazine was the first thing I got my exhausted hands on. Read More »

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Dear New Yorker: That cover was stupid. Just admit it

Yes, it’s true, I don’t have an mp3 player. This is not really by choice, I must admit—my iPod broke a couple months ago and the so-called “Geniuses” at my local Apple store told me that the cost of fixing it would be (shockingly) the same as buying a new one. It really bothers me that Apple’s products (and most gadgets these days) are basically designed to break after about a year, thus forcing you to buy a new one, so I simply refused. I went iPod-less.

I love reading, so I figured my morning commutes would be fine. Think of all the books I could get through! I might finally plow through that stack of New Yorkers under my bed! As for walking around, I’d be better off—less likely to get hit by a bus while crossing the street and not paying attention, less likely to get targeted for mugging, less likely to run into a glass door (yes, this has actually happened to me).

Who am I kidding? Read More »