By this point (unless your new to my blog or new to my life), everybody is most likely aware that I have some odd idiosyncrasies. One of the craziest things about me is my love of a fresh and never been handled magazine. Oh how I adore them with their new smell, their feel, their glossiness, and the fact that I am the first to touch their clean pages. Why in fact, it is nothing short of utterly exhilarating. It's a love affair I have had for more years than I can count and it probably started when I was a child. You know I use to have two subscriptions, one to the Annie Oakley Fan club and the other to Junior National Geographic (yea yea, I know I look like a dweeb, but please there were no junior/teen fashion magazines back then and probably is the reason behind the way I dress now!) Anyway, I use to wait that long 30 days in between until the next magazine would come in, and when it arrived in that delightful brown paper packaging with my name on it, I would bolt to my bedroom to savour the excitement of opening it all to myself.
Oh the joys of it all as I sat there staring at my newly minted magazine in all it's shiny, new and cleanly glory. Many years later, and I can confirm that I still feel the same way. It probably would come as no surprise to find out that I nearly burst a vein on the side of my forehead if someone else touches my virgin magazine before I do. Those who know me well, know that I must be the first to flip thru it's untouched pages and I must be the first to read it, and if I am not, don't even bother giving it to me!
Of course, it should also be no shock that I absolutely cannot touch a magazine in any office setting. You know what I mean? Those horrid disgusting, finger licked magazines that glaringly stare at you while you are sitting at your doctor's or at your dentist's office. All I can see is a zillion little fingers that have flipped thru those pages. EEEEWWWW! It blows my mind that most doctors offices require you to put a face mask on during flu season so as not to spread germs, but leave out for everyone to touch, sneeze on, cough on, snot on, paper reading products! Like we aren't going to catch anything off those little germ collectors! *shudder*.
Ironically, I have been with my better half for eight and half years and he still does not understand this flaw in my personality. And I nearly get frantic when I come home from a store and he starts to empty out the bags and grabs my magazine and does a quick flip thru those virgin pages. It takes all my strength not too leap across our kitchen island, put him in a choke hold and slap him silly! He regularly looks at me as though I am some sort of maniac, and perhaps I am. But it is only when I have read the magazine thoroughly and I mean every page from top to bottom, from side to side, from article to article that you may pick it up and view it. Yes I know what you are thinking and you wouldn't be the first to call me crazy!
I think I can say with total assurance that at this point in my life, it is highly doubtful that I am ever going to change when it comes to the virgin magazine. And if you are ever in a magazine aisle and you see this girl reaching for the magazine way way waaaaaaaaaaaaaay at the back of the pile, the likelihood is, that is just crazy old me! Harmless of course, unless you touch my virgin magazine and then I take no further responsibility for my future actions.
Until next time.