People magazine is one of the highlights of my week. Is that pathetic to say? It's pure escapism, but with much more intellectual heft than say, an US Weekly. It's just well done and always has been. I remember wanting a subscription so badly growing up, but it was extravagant. I would linger at the dentist to read all the articles. Finally my mom gave in and got a subscription, "for Adele," she said. Funny how she's continued renewing ever since I moved out. Her pop culture knowledge has skyrocketed. My dad, however, lives on another planet when it comes to celebrities. I would pull out a People magazine and point to various stars and ask my dad who they were. "And this is?" I'd ask, pointing to Jennifer Lopez's fox fur-eyelash adorned headshot. "No clue," my dad would say. Brangelina, Bennifer 2.0, Reese, he was in the dark on all of them. It was fantastically amusing, like talking to an alien.
One guy I went out with could barely contain his disdain when he saw a copy of People on my coffee table. "You subscribe to People?" he said with a sneer. My indie cred had just nosedived. "Yes, I subscribe to People," I said. "I love People." I do. I'm not ashamed.
Apparently Joe does too. A few weeks ago, he picked up a copy and read it cover to cover, focusing especially on the "Bachelorette-where-did-the-love-go-wrong" article.
Yesterday he asked if I got a People this week. "You're not going to believe this," I said. "I donated it to my boss's care package for her surgery next week. Without even reading it myself first. Have you ever heard of anything so selfless??"
"People magazines are a dime a dozen in a hospital setting," said Joe, as he threw up his arms. His eyes glowed with an anger that seemed almost primal.
OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad bit... But just barely. It made me laugh though. I asked him if I could write about this conversation on my blog.
"I probably seem like a sociopath on your blog. Maybe I seem like a sociopath in real life," he said.
Perhaps so, but at least he's giving me plenty of material.
One guy I went out with could barely contain his disdain when he saw a copy of People on my coffee table. "You subscribe to People?" he said with a sneer. My indie cred had just nosedived. "Yes, I subscribe to People," I said. "I love People." I do. I'm not ashamed.
Apparently Joe does too. A few weeks ago, he picked up a copy and read it cover to cover, focusing especially on the "Bachelorette-where-did-the-love-go-wrong" article.
Yesterday he asked if I got a People this week. "You're not going to believe this," I said. "I donated it to my boss's care package for her surgery next week. Without even reading it myself first. Have you ever heard of anything so selfless??"
"People magazines are a dime a dozen in a hospital setting," said Joe, as he threw up his arms. His eyes glowed with an anger that seemed almost primal.
OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad bit... But just barely. It made me laugh though. I asked him if I could write about this conversation on my blog.
"I probably seem like a sociopath on your blog. Maybe I seem like a sociopath in real life," he said.
Perhaps so, but at least he's giving me plenty of material.
