Stop apologizing for the things you like, even if it happens to be British boy-bands

So, here's the thing: I am completely over the concept of "guilty pleasures". Here is a list of things that I believe you should feel guilty about: kicking puppies, kicking my best friend who does a great impression of a puppy, chewing gum loudly in public, shoplifting, thinking about how easy it would be to shoplift (because I mean come on, it is a tiny nail polish that I could just slip into my purse, and I'm not saying I would do it but I totally could if I really wanted to but just thinking about it makes me feel like a criminal), etc.

Pictured: my roommate being really disappointed in how often I imagine being a kleptomaniac

Here is a list of things that I am sick of feeling guilty about: liking certain movies/music/TV/food/anything that makes you happy and doesn't hurt anyone else.

Now I'll make a confession (but not an apology): this post is a little bit about One Direction. If you don't know who One Direction are, they are a British boy-band who rose to fame on the X-Factor and sing some of the most aggressively teenage pop music since Tiffany left the mall circuit. And I love it. Their music is fun, it is energetic, and I think that they are genuinely good singers. And when I first heard a song of theirs and started singing along, I was embarrassed and annoyed at myself.

Because come on, I am way too cool to have such bad taste in music. I told my sister that I liked them, and she replied "you are so gross". And oddly enough, that was the reaction I was looking for. I specifically told her to get it validated that yes, this is something that it is not okay to like. And then I listened to the song again and danced around my apartment.

I know all the words to this and I am starting to know which member of the band sings which part. No shame. 

But then, sometime around the fifth replay of this song, I reached a moment of clarity: I used so much energy enjoying myself, I didn't have any left to be ashamed for the way I was enjoying myself. Something that some of you know is that I have had struggled with depression in the past. Because of this, I try to take every good mood, every smile and every little thing that makes my day brighter as a blessing. And it hit me that it was extremely counterproductive to feel guilty about the things that I enjoy. 

Sometimes my roommates and I have 'wolf pack' nights where we cuddle on the couch and then go outside on our deck and howl like lunatics. I am currently watching the most melodramatically staged "reality" show I've ever seen, in which a monkey wearing plaid just brandished a gun at a man who legitimately calls himself Urban Tarzan. I often reread a children's book series called Unicorns of Balinor, and last week I ate two donuts, a muffin and two cookies over the course of one day. And there are a thousand other things that fill me with joy but that I normally would never admit to, or would temper with one of those self-deprecating "I know it's awful and I'm so silly for liking it but I was probably hypnotized anyway" expressions.  

Oh, I mean, yeah, those are my Avril Lavigne CDs but I only like her um...ironically?

Really, if you think about it, it is all pointless. What are we really afraid of, someone judging us? I can almost guarantee that every super-cool movie snob who you think will despise you for liking Crank: High Voltage goes home, locks their door and reads the Twilight books for the fifth time with the same sense of skin-crawling shame. Or something. The point is, we all have our things, and I think it is about time we embraced them. 

So here's my challenge: like the things you like. Try to have the most fun you can in this life. Find the things that make you smile, make you laugh, make you dance around the room like an idiot, and embrace them. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go watch this One Direction fan-made cartoon for the third time. And I'm not even sorry. 

I was mauled by a squad of angry pygmy goats (and other valid reasons for my lack of blogging)

Hello there, blog-land! It appears I was gone long enough for them to completely change the layout of this website...good for me. The following are things that would have been valid reasons for my absence:

• I was possessed by the spirit of a Chinese Water Dragon who made me spend all my time watching Mulan and eating tuna. Also it didn't know how to type. 
• I was mauled by a squad of angry pygmy goats. A cheerleading squad obviously, who got extremely testy after I insulted pygmy goat soccer (the soccer is regular sized, only the goats are pygmy). 
• My butler Bumbley referred to me by my first name and I spent the last few months in a dark torture chamber re-teaching him proper employer-employee etiquette. 
• I was on an extended reverse-Rumspringa to decide if I wanted to stay with this life or embrace the tantalizing glitz and glam of the Amish ways. In the end, I masterfully resisted temptation, but it was touch and go for awhile.
• I was building a really big Lego tower. 

Sadly, none of these are what caused me to slack on my blogging duties. In short, I got depressed for awhile and wasn't feeling very funny. Then I got un-depressed but remained easily distracted. Then I really did start to build a Lego tower, but I ran out of those rectangle six-y blocks, which were necessary to form a solid foundation (it is basic architecture). 

Oh my God, they aren't six-y at all, they have EIGHT! My life is a lie. 

But I have returned! Summer awaits and I am finally feeling more like my carefree, borderline inappropriate, strange little self. So if anyone is still out there, brace yourselves for the incoming madness.

Edit: Also I made a Twitter today. So if you want to hear more things I say, go for it. There is a button and everything. 

Just one of those days

You know the kind of day when you read blogs for hours and then finally decide you have to do dishes because you thought it would be fun to drink pop out of your water bottle, which it was but now your water bottle is all sticky on the inside and besides that cereal bowl has been on your desk for two days which is probably not sanitary?

So you walk to the lounge and the creepy guy who lives two doors away from you is in there and even though he doesn't talk to you or anything you hate that he is even around and then you feel bad because he really isn't doing anything, and it makes you contemplate your overly-judgemental nature for a second.

 But anyway it feels awkward somehow so you try to wash your dishes quickly but while you are standing there a muscle in your thigh starts twitching annoyingly and all you can focus on besides that is the inane conversation the girls behind you are having about cheerleading while for some reason standing on chairs.

And you finally finish washing everything and then you become strangely aware that the back of your shirt says "tackle the virgins" and you start thinking about how to explain that to someone else, except you can't remember what book you were studying when your teacher said that and by the time you sort of decide it was probably Farewell to Arms (even though that still doesn't seem quite right) you realize that no one around here cares or is likely to inquire about the back of your shirt.

So you walk back to your room and of course the really short girl in your hall who wears way too much eye liner who you see EVERYWHERE (like seriously a freakish amount) is there and smiles and says hi to you, which is off-putting only because you literally see her up to ten times a day and she has NEVER acknowledged you before.

So you say "hey" back, although it comes out weird and croaky because you have been silently reading blogs all day and not using your voice, and besides your throat is dry because earlier you drank all your water and then drank sprite, which made your water bottle all sticky and prevented you from getting any more water until you washed your dishes. But it makes it seem like you are really shy or didn't want to say hi to super-short-stalker-racoon girl so then you just feel like an idiot.  

And when you finally get back to your room you remember that both of your roommates are at study sessions because they, unlike you, are actually being productive today. So there is no one to tell your (actually rather uninteresting) story to and you can't watch Doctor Who to pass the time because your sister hasn't paid the Netflix bill, which you really shouldn't complain about because you've been using it extensively for free for months but you will complain about anyway because you feel like it.

Yeah, I'm having one of those days.