Battling my inner tree hugger

I have an addiction. Yep. I admit it. I am totally and completely addicted to magazines. Cooking ones, fashion ones, health, womens views, quilting, you name it I probably have a subscription to it.


But this addiction, like most, has it's pros and cons. The pros? My mailbox is usually filled with at least one, if not more, wonderful colorfilled issue of something that will capture my short attention span for at least an hour or two. Possibly sharing new recipes, craft ideas, or general knowledge that this over active mind just has to have.


The cons? There is absolutely nothing, and I do mean nothing, that I cannot gleam from these glossy pages that I cannot find on the internet. Heck, probably half of the 25 subcriptions that I have actually have an ONLINE magazine. Now where is the logic in that? They even put more stuff on their websites just to get you to log on to them.

So why do suckers like me continue to fill our landfills with these periodicals of useless knowledge? Because we are suckers. Old fashioned like to curl up on the couch with a glass of chocolate milk grew up with Bop and Teen Beat magazine suckers. We like the feel of the pages in our hands, the scents of the sample perfumes and whatever chemicals that might be affecting our brains. We like the mobility of a magazine. Curl it up, and it'll go with you anywhere.

Alot of my magazine subcriptions, probably half, are cooking magazines. Like I really need one more recipe for fried chicken, or that perfect pumpkin pie. But I have to admit that I have stolen, er, borrowed, well copied some of the recipes i've found in magazine and had great success. I do believe that's what they're there for afterall. To help us enrich our lives. And to make the perfect german chocolate pecan pie (Thank you Rachel Ray magazine.)

So next time you're inline in the grocery store and you're absently mindedly reading the front covers that are oh so conviently placed next to you, grab one. Take it home. Curl up on the couch and savor the smell, the small tidbits of advice, the glossy pictures of models in clothes that you would never wear. Become on with your inner teen again.

At least if some of ya'll do this I won't be alone in my obsession. Misery loves company afterall.

And you never know what knowledge will fall out of the pages and into your hot little hands. Could be just the thing you were looking for to show up that soccer mom down the street, you know miss perfect who knows everything about everything and everybody. Bet she didn't know that if you fed a dog slices of pineapple it would make his poop taste so bad he wouldn't eat it anymore.

Oh and just for the record, I do recycle all of my magazines. After cutting out all of the recipes and tips. And coupons. And cool decorating photos.