What the Death of Radar Means (Print is Dead-ish)

Foremost and most importantly, it means that we are totes not rejected by Radar anymore. In a semi-ironic(?) twist of fate, Radar itself has been rejected—rejected by its own investors. Unfortunately, they didn't pay us so we don't super super care. I mean, we care. It's sad. But hey, now we can hook up with our former superiors (says Meg, not me). My main regret is that I never got a chance to take that book about the history of potato chips. And that I transcribed five hours of interviews with Pete Wentz, Pete Wentz's manager, and the fat lead singer of Fall Out Boy. All for naught. Sigh. Despite my being a fairly unproductive intern (though at an internship like this, watching every episode of The Hills and Gossip Girl at work should be considered at least somewhat relevent), I somehow managed the have the lead "story" on the website on the day of its demise. How does this make me feel? My first thought was, "Sweet, the site will totes get more traffic than usual today." My second thought was, "And hey, no one will be updating for a while, so maybe it'll just stay there." Actually my real first thought was, "Shit, I am so applying to grad school."

So, yeah, grad school it is. The recession should be over by the time I've finished an MFA in poetry. Well, and I already emailed Gawker to see if they want any former Radar interns.