I am so sick of people who are married or old or whatever and not living in New York telling me that they’re living vicariously through me. What the fuck does that mean? Unless you’ve lost a limb and I’ve called you as I blithely walk across town, or you’ve gone blind and know I’m at the Met, don’t give me that line about living vicariously through me. That’s the thing about being young and hip in New York–I’m well-versed in bullshit. And these days, you can’t really live vicariously for that.