"You don't want to be seen as trying too hard or being vain or being someone who cares about what they look like," a magazine editor says. "Because of the exertion and effort, it implies caring too much in a way that isn't cool." The editor is so ashamed of his uncool hotness that he refused to be named.

The article gives everyone — flabby nerds, dumb meatheads and bright athletes alike — reason to feel insecure about their fitness levels, intelligence and lack of ironic distance, respectively. But it's a boon for ladies who wish to pretend that their good-looking boyfriend is smart because he wears glasses. This city does great things for people. [NYO]

Until this weekend, I didn't know that thin girls with a thing for booze were actually drunkorexics. Get it? The word combines drunk with anorexic, to imply that these people are in effect, drunk-anorexics, or drunkorexics if you will.

And I like all kinds of music, but I couldn't have known that the rap I enjoy is actually "hipster-hop," music that's "mainstream enough for urban America, weird enough for these young hipsters." The added "ster" to hip-hop explains how a whitey like me could ever listen to Kanye West.

Following the rules of journalism, with those three examples, I've just proved a trend. And to make sure this trend sticks, I've made up a new word: Trendmology. Get it? Trend plus etymology equals trendmology equals reaching for a trend story.

The Japanese had already figured this out in the 80s, with their coffin-style nap-pods, stacked two high, designed for businessmen. Slightly larger and less dehumanizing capsule hotels have sprung up in Europe and on the Upper East Side.

And then when Metronaps opened in the Empire State Building in 2004, the press went wild—micronapping for New Yorkers! And the trend story just wouldn't die. Last year, Business 2.0: "It remains to be seen whether napping ends up being 2006's version of the oxygen bar." It has not.

So, they got me. I was tired. Whatever! I went to sleep in the pods of Yelo.

Inside, a young girl was being attended to by a gentleman explaining the special sleep beds to her. She basically wanted a guarantee that she would fall asleep during her scheduled naptime.

"Nine outta ten," the man said, "although if you really want to make sure, you might want to schedule for thirty minutes, you know."

A nice woman had me fill out some forms, which is always relaxing, then gave me cinnamon tea and took me to my pod—which, to be fair, is larger than typical pod-size and octagonal. It had a futuristic feel: the lighting was pink and white noise played, creating a sleeping-on-an-airplane vibe.

She put me in the chair and hit "recline" so that I was lying down but with my feet elevated in a sitting position. This was supposed to slow my heartbeat. She put a soft blanket on me and left. I sort of slept. The strange sleeping position created a sensation of floating in space. When the time was up, the pink lights slowly flicked back on.

It was totally relaxing! And as soon as I stepped outside, I started checking my text messages.

"Vacations Get Shorter, But Turn Up More Often," we learned from Metro on Saturday. The reporter talks to one lady who's taken a series of shorter jaunts with her family this year, and opines that "While such minibreaks used to supplement traditional vacations when work was slow, a growing number of Americans are now stacking up a series of shorter getaways and shunning longer stretches." In Sunday Styles, unspeakably tall Allen Salkin worked a political angle (Sam Brownback is the only candidate taking a vacation this year!), but still couldn't resist throwing in this depressing statistic: "A 2007 survey by the travel Web service Expedia found that 23 percent of employed adults check work e-mail or voice mail on vacation, compared with 16 percent in 2005."

But when you think about it, this is a story that could be adapted easily to several other sections of the Times. In Thursday Styles, Michelle Slatalla could write about how her husband, Business 2.0 editor Josh Quittner, insists on taking along a Blackberry and computer when they go away. (She's pretty much exploited every other way of writing about her vacations already. Is there no aspect of their lives that this family will not write off on their taxes?) In Dining, Frank Bruni could write about his idyllic meal of local cuisine on the Istrian coast was disrupted by the food bloggers at the table next to him who insisted on taking photos of every piece of food; Verlyn Klinkenborg could write about how, since his entire life seems to be a vacation, he can never really get away. And so on! Try it yourself!

Vacations Get Shorter, But Turn Up More Often [NYT]
How I Didn't Spend My Summer Vacation [NYT]