What In The Hell Is Going On With Me?

I am pretty permissive with myself when it comes to Fun. Guilty pleasures aren't something that really exist in my world; my stance is that if something is pleasurable and doesn't hurt anyone, there shouldn't be any guilt, right? So I've allowed myself the occasional *NSync binge. If I wanna read a little Jackie Collins, no big d. But recently, I seem to be chewing a lot more Bubblegum than usual, if you catch my drift. What was formerly a sporadic indulgence has become my usual fare.

See how bad it's gotten? I can't even express my emotions without using a Lolcat!

I knew things were getting a little excessive when I caught myself reading a chick-lit mystery while listening to Britney Spears on my headphones. I was on the bus, and I realized that I was not stoked on the idea of being caught by someone I knew. Then yesterday. Yesterday things got serious.

Yesterday I put "Fergalicious" on my mp3 player. and "Girlfriend", by Avril Lavigne.



I now know the true meaning of Guilty Pleasure. I'm not guilty about liking crap, mind you. My guilt stems from a lack of balance. It used to be that I'd read a crap book as a break from all the Serious Literature I was really interested in. But, dudes. In the last two weeks, I read three Sheryl J. Anderson novels in a row. Here's the thing: an action is only out of character so many times. Do it enough and it is your character.

And you know what? That's fine. I am learning to accept me this way. I can love Hello Kitty and still be smart. I can listen to Fergie and still be a feminist. And you know what else? Sheryl J. Anderson is a really good writer! And so is Jennifer Weiner, goddamnit!

This might be a phase. Maybe I'll grow out of it, and I'll go back to reading Gogol and listening to abrasive music. But for the time being, this is how I roll. Fuck it. I love pop culture!