My New Addiction

Just FYI, I'm not your casual mag-flipper. When I read a magazine, I READ a magazine. Every page, every article. I study the advertisements (applying all of my photo/model knowledge picked up from constant America's Next Top Model marathons). I take my magazines very seriously.

But because it takes me so long to go through a magazine, I only have one subscription (to Lucky - love it!), but I'm seriously considering picking up another one to Shape Magazine. I've never been very interested in health or fitness magazines because, well, I'm not very interested in health or fitness. It's so BORING. I get bored doing it; I don't want to be bored reading about it. I don't want to read about body builders and see the latest fashions for their spangley show bathing suits, or see advertisements for protein shakes, or learn that I should be eating more leafy green vegetables. Boooooring.

But I was at Camie's house a couple of weeks ago, and she had a copy of Shape that she'd "borrowed" from Ruth, and I started flipping through it. And then the weirdest thing happened. We went to go get dinner and I said, "Hey, let's not go to Wendy's, let's go to the grocery store instead and get some fresh veggies and steam some shrimp." Excuse me? LET'S NOT GO TO WENDY'S??? Was I stoned? Those words have NEVER come out of my mouth before. Especially not to be replaced with the words "fresh veggies." I can only shake my head at the recollection. I don't know what came over me.

So anyway, I thought I'd buy a copy of the mag for myself, because I sort of liked it (despite the Wendy's incident) and they have this part where they suggest playlists for your workouts ... and I'm a SUCKER for playlists. So I bought one when I was at the grocery store last week. You know, just to check it out.

On Tuesday night I was laying on my couch feeling really unmotivated, and totally wanting to just veg out and watch some telly or lick the inside of a Ben & Jerry's carton or something. I'd already canceled my plans to go to institute and the gym, and I was set for a night of pure lethargy. But there wasn't anything on TV, so I picked up Shape and started reading. Next thing I know I'm downstairs in the gym working my ass off on the elliptical. And then I was doing all kinds of mad sit ups and push ups. And then I came back upstairs and cleaned my house. And then made my lunch for the next day. It was as if Richard Simmons and June Cleaver had simultaneously taken over my body and instilled in me their love for exercise and homemaking. It was spectacularly awesome.

And you know what? Tonight, the SAME THING HAPPENED!

With this kind of consistent reaction, I think it's clear that this magazine is not just glossy paper and ink. Oh no. This shit is legalized good-behavior inducing CRACK. And I'm addicted, and am gonna get me a regular supplier.