3 Articles I Am Sick of Reading
- How mid twenty somethings have a different work ethic
- How Cupcakes are the new Frozen Yogurt
- How you hate New York, but you love it
Let me preface this article by saying that the first time I read an article on any of these topics I was bright eyed and bushy tailed. I can relate to these articles as I am a mid twenty something, living in New York, who imbibes on both cupcakes and frozen yogurt on an infrequent, but necessary basis. Aside from the fact that I dislike baking as much as you might dislike getting a root canal, even cupcakes are important to me. But I digress. There comes a time when an editor needs to take his or her sleeve to the dry erase board and say “This has been done.” Isn’t remaking Charlie and the Chocolate Factory enough imitation for one decade?
1. How mid twenty somethings have a different work ethic
According to an article in USA Today, my fellow Generation Y’ers and I want to wear flip flops to work and “believe in our own self worth.” Article after article on this topic pours over the fact that we were told we could do anything when we grew up. Our after school activities made us a generation of multi-taskers and our early cell phone introductions made our communication easy and freeing. Now, I agree with a lot of the factors that have encouraged my generation to be entrepreneurs and freelancers rather than have their father’s tie wrapped around their neck at an insurance agency in the midwest. But using the events of 9/11 or Enron or OJ Simpson as reasons why I have different views on what my workplace should be like is getting tiresome, if not deflating. Most of these articles are coming across not as a positive or even neutral argument, but have a tinge of regret, anger and fright to them. Bottom line: maybe the Gulf War or Monica Lewinsky did have a hand in the Generation Y’s new work ethic, but sometimes isn’t a cigar just a cigar?
2. Cupcakes are the new Frozen Yogurt (and vice-versa)
Why would any writer or editor think that one of these delicious desserts must be chosen over the other? And why, would this article need to be written more than once? No one says “beef is the new chicken” or “lemonade is the new beer.” Although, if lemonade was the new beer that would make for a pretty weak Saturday night, I’m sure. Over the past few years, I have seen an increase in both cupcake and frozen yogurt stores, but is one vying for a position over the other? My dad used to love to tell me a story about two pizza joints in New Jersey, directly across from each other, each owned by an estranged brother. Now that makes for the kind of competition and resentment I can understand.
3. Why you hate New York (but you loveeee it)
I get it. You’re an aspiring author. You live in New York and you have writers block. You sit by your window that has a view of a fire escape and a dirty sock stuck in a tree, and *LIGHTBULB* you have your next pitch. You hate New York. It’s loud, it’s dirty, and a bum just peed on your leg. You’re from a small town and this is no place like home. You can’t stand the high rent, the emotional women and the rush of people on the morning subway. Inserting some strong metaphor and vivid imagery, you come to the conclusion that New York makes you crazy. However, as you frantically type, like the climax of a romantic comedy, you spiral out of your sardonic and critical feelings toward the ole Apple and wait, yes, it’s true, you love the city in which you dwell! The pizza is crispy, the opportunities are endless and the bum that recently defiled you is now telling you a thought-provoking sob story involving him and a fortune five hundred company back in the 80s. You love to hate New York, you decide, but you hate to love it too.
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I made dating a sort of business. My capital is my looks, and my profit are the free dinner, free rides, free tickets, free whatever.
Yes, it was your birthday when he kissed me for the first time.
Though she says it’s “a lot of emailing,” she chose to live her dream and take the risk of not pursuing a traditional education.
We knew each other better than anyone else.