Hi. My name is Julie and I'm addicted to magazines. Always have been. Perhaps always will be. I cannot walk into a house - even that of a stranger - and resist the temptation to flip through their magazines. I know! Your thinking that's a violation of someone's privacy. So incredibly rude. But I can't help it. Thus, the addiction confession.
We are staying at my sister's house while on vacation - which to date has mostly been a string of doctor and dentist appointments. Just to put things into perspective, this morning I sat in the doctor's office waiting for my annual physical, (very) contentedly reading Fitness magazine with a cup of real coffee, when I heard my named called. Ten minutes early. Geez, couldn't they see how happy I was? Alone. Magazine. Coffee. I was tempted to avert the eyes of the receptionist and pretend I was Jezebel Hamel.
So, you can imagine how my heart sang when I saw this in my sister's house. My palms started to get sweaty. I resisted the urge to grab a stack of magazines and hide in a corner. I eagerly peered into each cubby imagining how I'd curl up on a couch and spend a lazy afternoon peering through each magazine, back to front as I always do.
It may just be an old gym locker stuffed with magazines to some, but to me it's heaven. Honestly. Periodical bliss. Particularly considering that about 2.3 magazines have touched my fingers in the last 11 months.
Here's an old favorite. I love Saveur. It was a huge splurge subscription for me when I was right out of grad school.
And there's this one.
And this one.
And this. Although I've never lived in the South. Well, the south of the U.S. that is. I've lived in South East Asia before. And south central Turkmenistan. But this is an altogether different kind of south. Love this one, too.
As for this one, it brings back memories of the bit of renovation we did to our old house a few years back. Love that house.
There are forty cubbies that used to house stinky old sneakers. Eight across and five down. Forty cubbies providing company during the sleepless hours of early morning jet lag. Forty cubbies full of recipes and design ideas.
Despite my efforts, I haven't found a detox program for my affliction. And until I do, I'll happily continue my one-month long magazine binge.