A mother. A daughter. A topic.
First of all…I really had no idea what the term “guilty pleasure” was until Ally mentioned it awhile ago in a totally different context. I didn’t want her to think that I was out of touch or uncool…or… (God Forbid) OLD, so I didn’t ask and just nodded my head as if I was following everything she was saying.
And then it came up as a topic for She Thinks.
Rather than take a chance on writing an entire post based on my ASSUMPTION of what it meant… I called her to see if I was correct.
“It sounds dirty” I said. “You know…like porn.”
“No Mom, it’s not porn.” (You know the tone)
“Oh good, I thought that would be really embarrassing.”
And then…a pause.
“Well…it still might be.”
OY.
“A guilty pleasure” she went on to explain, “is something that you really like to do, but under normal circumstances (i.e. NOT writing about it in a blog for everyone to see) you would be kind of embarrassed and ashamed to tell anyone else about it.”
Another pause.
“And mom…that doesn’t mean it’s about sex!”
(we told everyone in last week’s post that we don’t talk to each other about sex)
”So for Gods’ sake…keep it clean!”
Great. My kid feels she has to tell me to keep it clean.
So I racked my brain trying to think of something that I really like to do but kind of feel ashamed for doing and have never shared with anyone else (and isn’t about sex).
Baking? No. That’s just something I suck at doing, even though I torture myself by trying to do it every once in awhile.
Cleaning my closets? No…that would fall under the category of Obsessive Compulsive Behavior…certainly not a guilty pleasure.
Oh wait…I think I have it.
I’m actually quite embarrassed to admit it, and it’s harder to admit than you might think…but…
I LOVE to watch “Gene Simmons and the Family Jewels.”
In the middle of the night when I can’t sleep.
OK…it’s not just in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep.
I DVR it. So I can watch it whenever I want.
Don’t ask me what I like about it. I never liked the band KISS or followed Gene Simmons before. But there’s something about the relationship of the family that makes me smile. And they make me laugh.
But now I’m really embarrassed and totally ashamed to have told anyone about it.
So I guess it is a true guilty pleasure. (And it wasn’t about sex…YES!)
I define “guilty pleasures” as those things that you don’t want to admit that you love. I think it should also be something that you’re not necessarily supposed to enjoy.
(And no, Mom, it’s not about sex.)
Like trashy TV. You’re not supposed to like it. You feel dirty just watching it. But ohmygod you can’t stop watching.
I have a few guilty pleasures.
The first is something that I’ve written about before: young adult fiction.
I love books that were written for girls a decade (or more) younger than me. I love vampires and wizards and demigods and crazy awesome books beyond description.
Some of the books I read are silly. Or just plain stupid. But I just can’t quit them.
I read other stuff, too, but the vast majority of my library is pretty humiliating.
(And may I just offer some advice to anyone else who reads embarrassing titles, whether it’s YA or trashy romance or what have you? Get an e-reader. That way, nobody can tell that you’re obsessively reading a book with a cover like this:)
(Seriously, it looks like a soft core porno with a dude who looks like Justin Bieber.)
Another guilty pleasure I have is for a certain ridiculous TV show that defies all logic.
Oh, what to say about Jersey Shore?
Oh. My. God. These people are like really, really disturbing cartoon characters. I don’t know why I like watching them make fools of themselves or why I love when they fight (actually, I’m pretty sure I love the fights because their accents get super thick when they start screaming at each other and it’s awesome).
I don’t know why I find them hilarious and even (dare I say?) endearing. It makes no sense – and it’s embarrassing – but what can I do?
The heart is a mysterious thing, and loves what it loves.
My last guilty pleasure (well, that I’m sharing right now), is Lady Gaga.
I think she’s amazing. I think she’s brilliant. I think she’s crazy and bizarre and a genius.
Actually, she’s so great, I don’t even count her as a “guilty pleasure”. A guilty pleasure should be something that you feel guilty about – not because it’s bad for you – but because you feel like you shouldn’t actually like it.
And I think everyone should like Gaga.
(Actually, everyone should like YA, too.)
(But I’ll admit that Jersey Shore isn’t for everyone.)
If my life was a movie, I would like to think that it would be a musical. A light, airy, funny, neat but quirky little story laced with wonderful singing and dancing. The kind that plasters a big smile on your face when you get up to leave the theater and has you humming at least one of the tunes all the way to your car.
Not that I actually ever sing (or hum). Because I was told at the age of 10 that I couldn’t sing by my 5th grade choir teacher, and I never really tried again.
But I do dance. And I think that should qualify me for musical status.
But musicals are oh so much more than just singing and dancing. They present a view of the world that gives us hope and joy and there’s always some sort of lesson to be learned through the story….like…
Lesson #1: A boy and girl can find each other and be happy happy happy.
Lesson #2: You can get the bad guys and they will get what they deserve.
Lesson #3: The world is a better place when we hold hands and,
Lesson #4: If we pull together, we CAN put on a show!
I love the idea of defining my life with that kind of optimistic outlook on the world, where seemingly insurmountable problems get resolved and all of the characters end up better off than they were before.
I mean, WHY NOT?
Why not sing and dance through life? Why not have happy endings (and beginnings and middles)? Why not belt out a show stopping tune that tells everyone to Stop Raining on Your Parade?
I know musicals tend not to be taken seriously, but in terms of how to live a life…it sure is a lot better than being a suspense thriller, or an intense drama. I mean how scary and exhausting would that be!?!
The thing that trips me up on this one though is that we all tend to think of musicals as being rooted in fantasy (Brigadoon anyone!?). And I don’t actually consider my life to be fantasy based at all. Rather, I believe I’m a realist. I just like a little light-heartedness with my reality. And a lot of music, and dance, and humor and passion and goodness. All ingredients for a well rounded musical.
This isn’t a new thing for me. I was raised watching musicals. And I raised my children to watch and appreciate them as well. We used to go to see every Broadway musical we could, some on Broadway…some at our local dinner theater. But we saw them all.
So imagine my delight when a real life (in a matter of speaking) musical came to TV.
I’m talking about GLEE.
Unlike the old fashioned musicals, where everyone breaks into song mid-sentence for no apparent reason…there really is a reason for these kids to be singing and dancing.
They’re in the Glee Club.
And they make it cool.
And OMG the talent! Invariably one of the characters will sing some amazing song at some point in the show that ALWAYS makes me smile (or cry). And when the show is over, it makes me feel like the world is a better place.
Sometimes I think how cool it would be to ACTUALLY have my life BECOME a musical. I think it would be amazing to be able to break out in song when something disappoints me, or when something great happens, and have it be acceptable behavior.
But then I remember…I really can’t sing.
Oh well. I can still dream and I still have Glee.
I think that some people want their lives to be like a really serious movie. Like the kind where there’s no soundtrack and it’s super tense and uncomfortable and it’s only available in limited release in New York City.
Am I one of these people? Not so much.
Like most people’s lives, mine is mostly mundane. Also like most people, if my life were a movie, it would be lots of different genres.
All of us have a little bit of everything in our lives. For the most part, we live a life that nobody would want to watch a movie about. It’s boring and repetitive and there’s nothing really compelling about it, at least to anyone else.
But we all have those moments that are insanely comedic, or incredibly dramatic, or straight out of a love story (or a love tragedy).
Some of us have horrible things happen. Things that should stay firmly in the realm of disturbing entertainment.
But the theme throughout my life – thankfully – has been comedy. I can look back on almost everything, and see the funny in it.
I’ve been really lucky because my life has been incredibly easy going with little reason to complain. But even those few dramatic and crappy moments have taught me that seeing the comedy in every situation is the key to survival.
To be honest, and accurate, my life is probably best classified as a “dark comedy”: full of humor that makes others slightly uncomfortable and things that very few people find funny except for me.
But that’s my favorite kind of funny.
The only thing I truly wish for is that my life life in general was like a musical. Or at least like an episode of “Glee”. Then, when the bad shit happens, at least I could go into a well-choreographed routine while singing some amazing song from my favorite band or musical.
(Who wants to sing a song from Wicked with me?)
I mean, how many times have you wished you could belt out “Don’t Rain on My Parade” and have everyone look at you and think, “Man, that girl can sing… and I’m totally not going to mess with her anymore.”’
(Just me?)
(Liars.)
But other than the lack of singing and dancing, I’m pretty happy to accept that my life is totally and completely hilarious.
(PS: WAIT. I lied. If I could, I would live on Pandora.)
(PPS: As long as there’s singing.)