8 Guilty Pleasures I'm Willing to Admit

I won't lie; I have a list two thousand miles long of things I take pleasure in that anyone else would probably cringe at, keel over, and die before admitting. But I cannot, in any way, find it inside of me to pretend like these are things that I don't find some kind of joy in. I am 26 after all; practically a full-blown adult. Minus a few minor details. It's about time I own up to the things I am somewhat ashamed of not being ashamed of any longer.

1. My love for bad music.

This is completely open to interpretation. I don't actually think there's such a thing as bad music. (Unless you are Maroon 5 or Katy Perry, because that's just BAD). There's no point in hiding that I love having dance parties while listening to David Guetta and scrubbing my bathtub. I absolutely love blaring Hanson circa 1997 in my car with the windows down even if I am stopped at a light next to someone. I can't help but listen to, as some call it, my "hipster music," as if I'm the only Of Monsters and Men fan ever made. PLEASE, Icelanders everywhere love them. And God forbid, judge me for my undying love of "Call Me Maybe." The catchiness of the chorus, the joy in her voice as she sings which tells you she's smiling through every word, with her bangs and wretched chunky-heeled shoes. Oy vey! What's not to love about that cursed song?! But I love all good music, as well. I am just a lover of music, what can I say?

2. Spending my wad on music.

To coincide with #1. It really is a guilty pleasure, for the one simple reason that it costs me my entire income (aside from my necessities, of course). It's like a giant cycle each morning when I wake up and I have emails from every venue in STL alerting me of concerts that apparently got announced, literally overnight. You only live once, right? Even if it's the once when you are penny-less, single, and never disciplined enough to say no to a legit show. And not to mention, iTunes receives a bonus from me about once a month. It's like I'm opening up a can of Pringles; once I pop, the fun don't stop, damnit! I can't tell you how excited it makes me to know that I can have any music I want at the click of my mouse. THIS excited!

3. Telling my parents things that I want to tell them, for the sole reason they don't want to hear it.

I can't help it. There are some things I really want to talk to my parents about, regardless of the fact that they (on an off-day) don't want to hear about how their daughter is/would love to date another uber-dyke, or how I really want to move and they (on any day, really) would prefer I live 3 minutes away for the rest of my life. Telling my Dad he needs to downsize and buy a new car is like telling my Dad that I  am pregnant by lesbian Jesus and I am carrying the baby by no other means than divine intervention. Seriously. It's that bad to him. And I find pleasure in this. Shocker?

4. Loving people that I shouldn't.

Apparently, there is some kind of pleasure in loving people that I know I shouldn't love. I couldn't tell you what the pleasure in this would be, but it could be a number of things. It could be that they are hot, regardless if they are good for me or not. Or it could be that I totally know they could be good for me, if they so chose. The hopeless romantic in me would like to give the benefit of the doubt wherever and whenever possible. Therefore, I think I've convinced myself that if I find this much pleasure in loving someone I shouldn't love, I can't fucking wait to love someone that I should.

5. Judging people.

It's a tough habit to break. I am by far the last person that should be judging anyone. I mean, I'm a gay chick that basically needs to tattoo "I know I don't look it but I can lick it" on my forehead in order to get a girl to notice me, I have a huge ass that all the black guys cling to like white on rice, and I sleep with a Teddy Bear every single night. These things are who I am and you're welcome to judge me for it, because you better believe I'm judging you for who you are. 

6. Telling my bum family members 'no' to everything they ever ask of me.

If you don't have a job, the answer is no. If you receive food stamps, the answer is no. If you don't have a driver's license but you are of the age to drive, the answer is no. If you have ever been or are currently addicted to drugs or alcohol, the answer is no. If you never vacuum, dust, clean your bathrooms, do laundry, do your dishes, or sweep the floor,  the answer is no. If you smoke cigarettes in the car with your kids while the windows are up, the answer is no. If Rent-A-Center is calling MY cell phone looking for YOU, the answer is no. If you are on the donation list of the church up the street at Christmas, the answer is hell no. Now, what was it you wanted to ask me again?

7. The occasional bitchy Facebook status that you hope isn't about you.

I can recall TWO bitchy Facebook statuses that I've done in my Facebook career that have been directly directed toward one of my FB friends. The part that's so full of pleasure in doing this is that they know exactly who they are. It's like calling you out in front of 600 other people and not actually having to deal with the aftermath. IT'S PURE GENIUS. I recommend this to anyone that has an annoying FB friend. Nine times out of ten, that annoying FB friend of yours will be me. I sincerely apologize for that, by the way.

8. Saying I'm going to run, but going home to nap/eat/clean/shop/do anything else instead.

It's the truth that I have excellent intentions, and I actually do enjoy running (when it's not 102 degrees). Those intentions are actually carried out about 78% of the time. The remaining 22% of the time, I do the exact opposite of my plan. Once I've contemplated for 10 hours at work about running when I get home, the only legit reason I shouldn't go running is to take a nap. Sleep is JUST as important in a health and beauty regimen as exercise; Am I right or am I right!? Or do anything else that I want to do. I can run tomorrow...