Magazine day.

Yesterday was magazine day. Meaning, the day that all of my family's weekly magazines are delivered. Lined up next to each other, they paint a strange picture. We have only subscribed to the first three. The rest just... arrive. We've never subscribed; never paid a bill; never knowingly provided an address to which they could be sent. I guess I can thank the total LACK of information sharing privacy regulation on the Internet.


1. The Week (have subscription) 

Almost like VH1's show "Best Week Ever" but more highbrow. Excerpts from the week's best national and international editorials, financial news, some entertainment news, book stuff, travel stuff. Good stuff. Kind of like freebasing current events.

2. Time (have subscription)

An old standard in our household. I'm pretty sure I learned at a ludicrously young age about the wonders of sex (and then subsequently shared with seat mates on the school bus) from the science section. Their parents were maaaaaaaaaad...

3. Lacrosse Magazine (have subscription)

My younger sister plays lacrosse in college. Pretty self-explanatory. I read it sometimes (as an ex-laxer) and am consistently amazed by how shamelessly they repackage the same training/stick skills/equipment advice every single issue. It's like Cosmo for laxers I guess.

Now for the freebies that arrive ghost-like every week:

4. National Geographic Traveler

It's addressed to me. And it's very much appreciated, but how does it get here? Where does it come from? What does it all mean? I mean, I love traveling and have booked fair amounts of airline tickets to foreign lands, so is it the airlines giving away my information? Maybe it's Amtrak. In any case, thank you to whoever you are for violating my privacy because this is a fair trade-off in my opinion.

5. Architectural Digest

This glossy gem is also addressed to me and it arrives once a month unlike its other illegitimate brothers and sisters. The arrival of Architectural Vogue is a real puzzler mostly because its cover price isn't cheap. Nice quality paper, lots and lots of pretty pictures. I'm guessing that signing up to be on an art museum's mailing list is the source of this one. I mean I appreciate architecture, but am confident that I haven't been searching for mountain lodge design ideas or sconce to art installation ratios or what-have-you. In any case, again it's appreciated. Always a treat to read about Gerard Butler's rustic bordello design aesthetic or to ogle at the infinity pool at Bora Bora's most exclusive new hotel. Keep it comin.

6. Entertainment Weekly

Addressed to my mother. This one has been coming for THREE YEARS without a single payment from the Gulawger household. How it found its way to us is less of a mystery. Between Fandango, rottentomatoes, imdb, etc. I'm sure our address leaked out somewhere. Reading it is like eating M&M's. You don't even notice you feel a little sick until you've had too much and it's just too late.

7. Maxim

This one is the most unsettling. It's addressed to my mother as well. I couldn't even begin to trace the information trail from our mailbox to Maxim's headquarters. I guess I appreciate the recommendations for "Best Bro Summer Brews" and the "Badass Book Club." Major downside is forgetting it's sitting on the kitchen table and to see house guests try to process it's presence in a household with two 20+ year old girls, one mother, and one straight-laced, boat shoe wearing father whose idea of a pinup girl is Alison Janney as C.J. Craig in the West Wing. The mystery continues unsolved.