I am of the firm belief that "guilty pleasures" show who we really are. We file these secret addictions under the name "guilty" because they are, at their core, incredibly nerdy by normal social standards. They are dorky by definition; we confess guilty pleasures to friends with a laugh because on the surface, we're embarrassed to enjoy them, but deep down, we cannot exist on a daily basis without them.
As a confirmed geek, I have a plethora of guilty pleasures. I am hopelessly addicted to Grey's Anatomy. I regularly read The Princess Diaries and watch Gossip Girl. When I lived in a country that more easily offered such snackage, I used to watch Golden Girls while eating string cheese and Cheerios (simultaneously). I was once part of a fantasy baseball team. I have researched how much it would cost to be part of Virgin Airlines' trip to outer space (shocker: it's out of my budget). I subscribe to X Games highlights videos. I do crossword puzzles; when I knew absolutely no Danish, I used to make up clues and fill in English words based on the people-watching in which I would partake. I have a very big thing for Dr. Who (as played by David Tennant), and--in similarly British news--cannot wait for the day when Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's novel Good Omens is perfectly captured on film. I wear knee socks; I enjoy liking famous, incredibly-out-of-reach guys from afar (I'm looking at you, Gaels Monfils); I cry watching Pixar movies and Kleenex commercials; I like that I snort uncontrollably when I am really amused--thanks, Mom. But perhaps my biggest guilty pleasure lies hidden in my iPod.
When I was nine years old, I had a plan for my life: I would become a professional ballerina child; when I retired from said ballerina child career, I would become a sports medicine doctor; and I would, somewhere in the middle years of this process, marry one of the members of Hanson. I did become a ballerina child; my post-ballet dreams of multiple years of school/healing athletes has morphed into a curious shade of grey; and I am (incurably) single...BUT. While this last dream faded as I grew up and was drawn towards weirder, more wonderful music this does not mean that I do not forever and always hold a place in my heart for the magic that is Hanson's hit single, MmmBop. This song never, ever fails to bring me joy, of the nine-year-old, nostalgic sort. So please: enjoy. Particularly the moment of "disc scratching" around 3:06...not that I know every word and every second of this bit of magic.
2 comments:
I love this. You are too much!
If I may ask, I'm curious about why you describe yourself as incurably single? Is it the dedication to dance or to your guilty pleasures? Does that take up too much time? You seem like a fascinating person and you give a lot of yourself in your blog posts. Perhaps I am just a hopeless romantic but I never like to hear of anyone being "incurably" single.
I just discovered your blog today. I started following Rebecca King last week. I am taking a ballet class with my 16 year old niece so I figure if I am going to do that I should also learn more about ballerinas and ballet. We do a pas class and I must admit that while it is very challenging for me I find it highly rewarding. I'm an old and chronically injured soccer player so the ballet world is very alien to me. We actually learned parts of the black swan and white swan pas de deux so I was pleased that I knew what your photos represented in your other post.
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