C: Guilty Pleasures

At the end of a pressure-cooker day, I come home sometimes and “veg-out.”  It is as if my brain has to go from the very serious, almost acrobatic performance, to complete rest.  Usually this is in the form of television. 

Sometimes I rest my brain with the news just whirrrrring in the background as white noise.  I just kind of check in and out mentally to see the headlines.  At other times I turn the tube to “brain candy,” which would be embarrassing for anyone to catch me watching. 

Thinking about all this started me thinking about my “guilty pleasures” of all kinds;  you know, the kind of things that you’re not especially proud of—the kind of things that just don’t measure up to your fantastic intellect or your careful diet or whatever other benchmarks you set for yourself.

So, I thought I’d share a few of mine in hopes that you would, also, spill beans on yourself.

First, there’s “Real Housewives of New Jersey.”  Yes, I’m blushing as I write this…I need to admit something right now: I am afraid—very afraid—of these women.  They could kick my you-know-what.  In  a heartbeat.  I just know it.

They all wear high heels and short, tight dresses.  They stand weird when they’re being photographed (see above).  There is nothing “real” about them in my book. But I can’t turn my eyes away from this show; some sort of macabre fascination I have, here. 

They live in giant houses.  They really do nothing all day except dress up; get their nails done while they talk about each other, go to lunch and get into fights.  There have been tables turned over at restaurants and hair pulled out of heads.  They always have someone who is “friends” with both sides of the quarrel—convenient for keeping the enemy pot stirred.  Positively decadent and without socially-redeeming value.  Yep, I watch it about once a week…guiltily.

Number Two:  Something I am not is a country music fan, but I have grown to love the series, “Reba” with Reba McEntire, now in re-runs on the cable channel “Life.”  Could it be I identify with the premise?  It is about a mother of three whose dentist husband knocks up his dental hygienist and the family is splintered apart.  At the same time her seventeen-year-old daughter gets pregnant and marries a high-school jock and they move in with Reba.  Husband and lover move just up the street, and the series is built around those strained dynamics.  The writing is witty, and when I watch it, I can just chill out and root for Reba.  But I feel sheepish when I get caught watching it—it is, after all, merely brain candy.

In the food vein, the first thing that pops into my mind is something on the olive bar at our local Kroger Store.  I never met an olive I did not love, but they have an offering the blows the socks off anything else—a marinated feta cheese and Greek olive mix.  When I’m feeling really down, a little carton of this in front of the television watching a scuffle on Real Housewives will make it all better. 

I won’t mention chocolate here, because I believe it is an essential nutrient; ice cream is a source of calcium.

When I am feeling really decadent, I waste time.  Time is my most valuable commodity and when I waste it, it is a luxury—like that fictional billionaire who throws one-hundred-dollar bills in the air.  One of my all-time biggest time wastes is playing word games on the computer.  I particularly love Scramble and Text Twist.  Why?  It gains me nothing—but wasted time.

And, the last guilty pleasure I’ll list today: Second sleep.  You know how the Hobbits loved “Second Breakfast?”  I have my own version of “second” indulgence.  On Saturdays, when nothing is on the calendar, my aging body and mind still think they ought to get up at, like, a quarter to 5 a.m.  So, we do.  And we have coffee and putz around, maybe post on the blog.  Then about 6:30, we (my mind and body) slink back into bed and fall into deep delicious sleep for an hour or so until we’re good and ready to get up.  Ummmmmm—love it!

C’mon.  You’ve got guilty pleasures, too.  Fess up! - C