Why hello there, you sexy reader, you. First off, it’s Thursday, not Sunday. It has literally taken me four days to write this blog, so many apologies muggles. Second, this weeks blog topic happens to NOT be in rant form! YAY for positivity and the non-criticism of our civilization. So hopefully this post won’t make you feel so bad about our society. Okay, now who’s ready to hear some deep, dark, dirty secrets of mine? Otherwise known as my guilty pleasures.
Over the years I’ve had quite a few guilty pleasures, however, in all fairness, at the time I didn’t feel so guilty about them. Looking back, I can’t believe I have friends who knew me during those dark days. I’m not sure what’s more pathetic, the fact that I liked some of the stuff that I did or the fact that my friends were friends with someone who liked the stuff that I did. After four days of careful consideration while writing this post, I have confirmed that my friends are definitely more pathetic than I. They should have dumped my ass a long time ago. On the bright side, if they had dumped my ass, they wouldn’t know how lovely I am now; stalker qualities, sarcasm, cats and all.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #1: I LOVED the Jonas Brothers. And this was ongoing until 2010. It wasn’t so much their music, as the cute curly haired Nick, but nevertheless I loved them. In fact in 2009 I waited outside Rogers Arena (formerly known as GM Place) to meet them. At which point I did unfortunately realize that Nick was too short for me – Damn my height! I’m only 5’8, but it’s been a terrible curse of mine to only be attracted to short men – and that men in Hollywood wear makeup. Also, once upon a time I posted a video of myself singing “I want Nick Jonas for my birthday…”, looking back I’m just glad I wasn’t charged with a restraining order. Also, is it too late to request Ryan Gosling instead? I’d post the link of the video here, but I’m going to opt out of further embarrassment. Last Jonas Brothers confession, I named my cat Jonas. Poor boy, is stuck with the name of my previous fantasy husband. Talk about awkward…
Guilty Pleasure Confession #2: Chick flicks. I unfortunately still love a sappy, cheese filled romcom. If I’m around artsy film folk, I probably won’t mention it; “What do you mean Jennifer Aniston has a new movie out? Yeah, I definitely didn’t see it.”. Truth is, as much as I love real film, I will most likely always choose a romcom when watching a movie by my lonesome. This takes the cake as far as confessions go, but I even like those made for TV Disney movies. You know, A Cinderella Story: Once Upon A Song? Watched it. Starstruck? Watched it. Camp Rock? Definitely watched it (refer to confession #1). All the Highschool Musicals? Check. Check. And Check. This really is a straight up guilty pleasure, because in no way am I proud admitting it. Want to know what the last movie I saw in the theater was? The Lucky One. And guess what! I LIKE the Zefron. AND I call him the Zefron. Okay, maybe I’m going a bit too far here…But here it is all out in the open. I feel so much better, nothing is holding me back now.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #3: While on the topic, I love me some chick lit as much as I love chick flicks. I love to read but chances are the latest book I’m reading is some romantic no surprises plot following some girl meets boy, girl hates boy, boy and girl are faced with challenge, boy and girl fall in love, boy hurts girl, girl cries, boy chases girl, girl and boy make up, the end plot line. These books are terrible. I KNOW they’re terrible. And yet, these novels consume my life and are directly responsible for my average amount of time spent crying each week.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #4: Cats. I am a crazy cat lady. I have four cats (which is my mother’s fault) and I still want more. I’ve convinced myself if a cat follows me home, then he/she is fair game and my mom has to let me keep him/her. It’s my lifelong dream to have one of those cat houses, where cats have literally taken over the backyard. I don’t get why people call cat people crazy, I’m perfectly sane.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #5: I LOVE crocs.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #6: Trashy celebrity magazines. No, I will not buy that useless garbage, but hell yes, I’ll hold up the line at the supermarket while I decide who wore it best. Honestly, I’m not even interested in the stories, I can get the gist from the headline and I’m all good. But I love looking at the photos, and I have no idea why!! It’s painful.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #7: I’m not sure if this counts as a guilty pleasure, but I gain extreme satisfaction from it and the lengths I go can definitely qualify as over indulgent. So I’ll let you be the judge. I’m obsessive about all things movies. I need to know what movies are in pre-production and who they’re casting, I need to watch trailers ASAP, I need to know the ratings and anyone involved. For Pete’s sake I write down movie release dates on my calendar! And I have anxiety if I don’t see a movie as soon as it comes out. Example, if I know people have watched it before me (which of course they have), I start to panic. I’m not sure if this is my movie obsession or need to know everything. All I know is movies are my one true love and IMDB is what holds our relationship together.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #8: I kept my barbies until I was 14, and I now spend nights wishing I had them back. This doesn’t really need to be further explained. Loved my barbies, thought I was too grown up for them at 14 and gave them away. But sometimes when the internet is boring me, I wish I could build my old barbie houses and pretend that Barbie and Ken are having marital problems because their children came out half black.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #9: Okay, this only happens once in awhile but I tend to go through a phase where I latch on quite aggressively to a terrible song. If it’s catchy, I’m a goner. Currently, that song happens to be “Call Me Maybe”. The last song I seriously latched onto was Selena Gomez’s “Who Says”. Unfortunately one night I fell asleep to my ipod playing that song on repeat and without the sleep button on, so I woke up the next morning to that being the #1 most played song on my ipod. Could never live that down any time someone would play with my ipod. Luckily, I gave that ipod to my mom, and now the problem is hers. Damn songs are catchier than gonorrhea — honestly, I just wanted to see if I could spell gonorrhea. Turns out I can’t, but spell check can.
Guilty Pleasure Confession #10: Lists. I obsessively need to write out lists of every single thing that comes to mind. There’s the typical stuff like to-do, grocery, and potential sperm donor lists. Oh wait, what was that last one? You DON’T have a potential sperm donor list?! Well you better get on it! I’m convinced in the near future it will be socially acceptable to specifically request who’s your baby daddy. So when that time comes, I intend to be prepared to request the best of the best. Which is why I’ve already hired private investigators to look into the medical history and background of Jake Gyllenhaal, Chris Evans, the Zefron and of course Ryan Gosling. Sorry, did I get a little distracted talking about my potential baby daddies? Anyway, currently on my phone there is a list of tattoos I would like, recipes I should try, books I should read, words I need to google, and of course the full names of my future children courtesy of one of my healthy, sexy sperm donors. I also enjoy reading other people’s lists. I am all about those Top 10 whatever lists that no one really gives a flying F about. Top 10 Movies of the Summer? Hello. Top 10 Celebrity Abs? OH YES. Top 10 Reasons Why We Love Cheese. I love cheese too! Top 10 Celebrities We Think Are Potential Murder Suspects. Philip Seymour Hoffman.
I’m sure I have many more guilty pleasures, such as, wearing leggings as pants (what can I say? I live in Vancouver!), using hand motions to explain actions as if you were too dumb to understand (“I’m driving. See! Driving a car, like this. In case you didn’t know what driving was..”), cheese, Teddy grahams and chocolate pretzels. These may also include, but are not limited to, stealing small increments of junk food and blaming it on the cats, as well as pretending the vacuum is a microphone and putting on mini choreographed concerts in my underwear while ‘cleaning’ (I use cleaning loosely because most of the time is spent learning the choreography to “Single Ladies”).
Sorry for the late blog post this week, hope you enjoyed. If you have any guilty pleasures you want to open up about, leave a message! This is really the first step in coming to terms with your reality TV show addiction/love for scrunchies/being a Twihard/whatever pleasures you feel guilty about. Now if you excuse me, I have a cheesy novel to read.
Hope you had/have a wonderful day.