Let me put it to you Real Simple.
February 17, 2008
Just finished flipping through my March issue of Real Simple magazine. Tomorrow, I plan to wash that down with the Green issue of domino. Normally, I also would be paging House & Garden and Blueprint, but both of those rags got the boot during the annual post-holiday magazine cull. (Note: H & G is now the purview of domino. Go fig.) That’s four mags, people. Four.
Now, tuck that in your bonnet and back-step with me to approximately 8:30 p.m., PST:
Tonight, my husband and I got into it re: planetary decay. He pulled out all the stops: rising temperatures and ocean levels, population displacement, steroidal storms, drought + famine, dessicated water sources, epidemics and super-bacteria, and cloud seeding. (He didn’t mention the dead zones, or oxygen sinks, recently found off the Oregon coastline, but I suppose those could fall under the rising temps category. Oh, and he also didn’t address the uncontrolled toxic spy satellite hell-bent on hitting the Earth, but we’re counting on NASA to deal with that.)
Following this overwhelming and teary discussion, I made a decision. A small one, but a Small one, too.
Three weeks ago, I received my Real Simple renewal notice. Because I’m such a VALUED SUBSCRIBER, the folks at RS offered to sell me two years of their publication for only $30. That’s nearly 50% off the cover price! The notice had been languishing in my newly organized keepable-files drawer, waiting for me to pop my 30 smackers in the mail in return for monthly updates on how to speed up my beauty routine, keep my nonexistent kids safe from mashers, and use a toilet paper roll to store extension cords. It had been languishing because the Living Smaller had been waffling.
Should I resubscribe? Should I give up the quiet pleasure of riffling the pages packed with tasty recipes and sartorial suggestions — naturally, I’m a big fan of the sweater features (troves of knitting notions) and the “week’s wardrobe” features, sadly not available online, which take nine articles of clothing and create a week’s worth of different looks, not unlike mine-heart, Polyvore. This, of course, is to say nothing of the occasionally enjoyable essays and life checklists (why, yes! I would like to keep track of birthdays and appliance serial nos. and emergency supplies and my favorite St. Patty’s Day recipes on one giant, removable spreadsheet!).
On the other hand, should I let all that paper go to waste, all those chemically inks ooze all over the place? Should I help pay the bills that float the company that supports minivan ads?
Folks, I did what I had to do. I ripped up the notice and tossed in the recycling bin. At the demise of my RS subscription this year, I’ll be reading up on simple solutions either online or at la bibliothèque. That leaves me with a single pub sub: domino.
And then there was one.
Special thanks to Mr. Living Small for his brimstone and his bodaciousness.