Today's Thursday Styles section has that profile of Ivanka Trump, who apparently likes looking at herself in the mirror. But that's all I know about that, because not only do I refuse to read any of the words in that part of the newspaper, it's like I actually physically cannot! I can't and haven't read any part of the Times except the front page, any other newspaper, or any magazine for more than a week now. I haven't read any blogs, including this one, either! It's a real problem, or it would be, if my last day at this website wasn't Monday. Anyway, instead of writing little jabby synopses of things and trends and people in the news for the next few days, I have no choice but to just tell you about the books I read and thoughts I had while I was on vacation. It'll be like the time I mused about how we should all stop hating and start focusing our energy and we would all own Park Slope brownstones someday—except less delusional.

So our—well, not 'our,' but you know, 'everyone's'—Julia Allison has finally found a name for her Time Out New York dating column! No, it's not "Dumb Slut Adventures" or whatever your suggestion was. It's The Single File. What an ugly word that is, "single." What is it, exactly, that makes the word itself, and its connotations, so inadvertent-shudder-inducing? Maybe it's less about actually being single and more about the telltale signs of being uncoupled, hmm? You know ... singlefiers.

So I'll be in Maine all next week, leaving you in the extremely fun and competent company of Doree, Choire, Josh, Balk, and Balk's cock, which will be picking up even more of my slack than it usually does. I had Gawker pervtographer Nikola Tamindzic snap a special picture of me being all "eff you, I am wearing an American Apparel tank suit" on his roof last night because, let's face it, I have become some delusional cross between Alyssa Shelasky and Julia Allison, blogging about my feelings and disgracing feminism right and left. Yeah, that's it. Also that's why it's time for a full break. Also, as a bit of useful service journalism: After the jump, an object lesson in how not to ask for time off.

According to the New York Observer's Lizzy Ratner, the "New Victorians" are a cozy bunch of luxury-addicted, monogamous, career-focussed twentysomething urbanites whose appetites run more to "home and hearth and eating" than the crazy coke-fueled orgies that 'used to be' the earmarks of NYC early adulthood. "Eminent New Victorian couples can be found all over New York these days, puttering about their brownstones (original detail carefully restored), or pushing babies with names like Beatrice, Charlotte, Theodore and Henry in gigantic prams to the local playground," Lizzy explains. Well. This seemed like one of those classic, ridiculous Observer articles that strains to prematurely name and define a trend based on a few specious examples. And on the other hand....

When we first clapped eyes on Samantha Storey's first-person exploration of what it's like to live in Park Slope, we automatically started sharpening our knives. That stroller shot almost guaranteed that the article would be full of easy-to-mock tropes of the Slope, and of course, it was: "open and comfortable breast-feeding is quintessential daytime Park Slope." And! "When I buy fish from the Ocean Fish Market the man behind the counter always asks after my mother." And! "My baby carrier is a $150 torture device." Yes, writing a mean post about this article would be easy-peasy. Our knives were honed! When, suddenly, we put down the whetstone and looked within. Ask the question in your best Carrie Bradshaw voice along with us: Is it time to get over hating on Park Slope?

"Forget the proverbial seven-year itch. Not to disillusion the half million or so June brides and bridegrooms who were just married, but new research suggests that the spark may fizzle within only three years." And: "It may be that happy coupledom always came with a three-year expiration date." And: "'What's keeping people together is their love and commitment for each other,' Professor Musick said, 'and that's fragile.'"