Maybe I am the last one to hear about
THIS but WTF? MSLO is killing Blueprint?! I feel blindsided, and I should have seen it coming. Remember when they were giving subscriptions away with the purchase of that
Fancy Special Weddings Issue a while back? Honestly, I want to know what they are thinking. It's just like how they turned MS Kids magazine (which I totally was buying at the newsstand even though I don't even HAVE kids, the stuff was so cute and fun) into a COLUMN in Living. Martha publications keep eating each other. It's a stupid move though, IMHO, and this is why: in real life, normal people (read: not me and Aaron) become "engaged" with a ring and a Fancy Pants Proposal (Aaron asked me to be his wife in the awful galley kitchen in the old awful apartment, ---wait, technically, only one of us could have been IN the kitchen, he must have been in the living room/bedroom, that stupid apartment was that small,----- with a ring he twisted out of wire, when we had been dating about 3 months) and normally, the wedding follows, what, a year-ish later? You tell me, I obviously don't know. So you buy wedding mags for one year. Even if you buy every issue for a year, that's only like, twenty, thirty dollars. And once you are married and your thank you notes are sent out, you are no longer a target for MS Weddings magazine (unless you end up remarrying, but let's not be cynical and insinuate that such an outcome is what MS is banking on). What are they going to sell you now? The Blueprint blog? Jerks. I enjoy Blueprint. It was like a Domino with a sense of humor that liked to get drunk sometimes and didn't assume you had a bottomless bank account (and a stick in your... you-know). I finally caved and subscribed to Domino, but it's totally not the same. Dang. And I was all feelin' bad for Martha lately, too, since she lost her mom. Ugh. What a mess. I hate everything.
Excepting, but not limited to:
Alexander Henry. My love knows no bounds.
This cat. Again, love, no bounds, yadda yadda.
These disgustingly yummy treat things. I know they are profoundly wrong, but they require almost nothing on my part, and deliver such a "How could anything this gross be so delicious?" thrill.
Amen.
