Thursday, October 29, 2009
Since I was little, I've loved to read magazines. Aside from Highlights (loved in doctor's offices the world over), the first magazine I remember loving was Mad Magazine. Of course, now that I'm older I have absolutely no idea what I found entertaining about that magazine, but I certainly got a kick out of it back then.After Mad Magazine came the influx of every teeny-bop magazine on earth. Special bonus was given if it contained pictures of my beloved Ricky Schroder or Duran Duran (some things never change). My walls were adorned with pictures lovingly torn out of these magazines and I read them all from cover to cover.One day, I remember being in the grocery store and my mom suggesting that instead of my teeny-bop magazines, perhaps I should try reading Seventeen magazine. Oh, the horror! Didn't that mean I was growing up? At the time I couldn't even fathom the idea of ending my love affair with the teeny-bop mags and did NOT get the Seventeen magazine (how could she even suggest such a thing??). Of course, eventually, I did enjoy Seventeen and lost my love for the teeny-bop mags (just not my love for the people featured inside of them).From college onward, other than the juicy celebrity rags (People, US Weekly, etc.), my favorite magazines have been Cosmopolitan and Glamour. In fact, I have a subscription to Glamour right now, which apparently comes along with other magazines...Namely, Redbook. Last night I looked down and realized I was reading Redbook magazine. Really? Redbook? When did I become 100? Doesn't it seem like such a grown-up magazine? Pretty soon I'll be subscribing to AARP Today or something equally painful. What is happening to me? Not only reading Redbook, but enjoying it? Egads!