Guilty pleasures
Ambitious craft projects that never quite work out as planned, trashy bios, reading book reviews instead of the books, baby clothes, food porn, flinging elastics at passing pets & family members, dumb movies from the 30s & 40s (made better by knowing who was gay and who was smashed; cf. trashy bios), cursing French jerks in English, vice-versa, judging a book by its cover, 70s pop music while driving too fast, crying when stopped for speeding, being a girl because I can get away with things like crying when stopped for speeding, awful plastic surgery dot com, Jacques Chirac, giving in to cheap sentimentality (generally accompanied by weeping), Hunter S. Thompson on politics, lasagna for breakfast, hearing that someone who once betrayed you in a very nasty, drawn-out fashion is now hoping for a favour, watching my children’s no way cool grins turn to oh, god, would she? when I threaten to come their school in pyjamas and rain boots, run across the schoolyard, arms outstretched, sing-songing, ‘Oo-oo, bunnykins! Here, snuffy bear! Here I am!’ then smother them with kisses in front of their friends, oh, mwah, mwah, mwah, now who’s mommy’s little sweetiekins? Oh, yes you are. Hey, did you just fart?
Oh, and chocolate.
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- Donuts. Fattening caffeinated beverages that are ordered using French or Italian words and cost three times a medium double cream from Tim Horton’s (see first point). Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. McDonald’s breakfasts on weekends. Early morning children’s programs narrated by Joan Cusack. Vincent Gallo. The odd Russell Smith column. The White Stripes. eBay. Amazon. The trashy jam.canoe.ca, and in keeping with flatus – the occasional dutch oven.
— gord Nov 30, 11:48pm # - Staying up too late doing the crossword puzzle on a school night; eating the all bread in a restaurant breadbasket and then asking for more; re-reading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time when I should be grading papers; saying very silly things in a very silly voice to my dogs; paying $8 for a tube of Eucalyptus-flavored toothpaste because it was in a minimalist zinc tube with a cool font on the label; eating a whole watermelon at one sitting, starting with the middle section that has no seeds; sleeping in my clothes when I feel like it; reading Vanity Fair and basking in the celebrity gossip; buying shelled pistacios; writing scathingly accurate, deliciously biting accounts of people who have wronged me in the past; being passive-aggressively late to meetings I don’t want to attend; ordering what I really want on the menu; having a crush on actor Alan Rickman; buying a red fez on ebay to indulge a whim; listening with adoring bemusement to my puppy snore, knowing she really shouldn’t be on the bed.
— susan bein Dec 1, 6:56am # - Vintage fountain pens. Cricket streamed at 4am. First-flush Darjeeling. Madeira. Djarum Lights. Sarah Polley. Pay-per-view nil-nil draws. Apple products: iBook, apple pie, calvados. Frankincense. Lust.
— nick Dec 1, 4:35pm # - Imported inks for my dip pens; reading all night and calling into work sick the next day to finish the book; ‘Desperate Housewives’; massive crush on Ewan McGregor; Mexican hot chocolate made from scratch and with milk, not soy; stumbling across the odd book sale and using your last $5 on 8 paperbacks; Bollywood soundtracks; yet another pair of birch knitting needles; taking my birthday off from work (or the closest weekday to it) and sitting at the library cafe, sipping hot chocolate outside and reading; watching ‘Amadeus’ and ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ (for the 100th time) in the same day and eating nothing but microwave popcorn and Dove dark chocolate pieces; snuggling & reading in bed with the dog, the cat, the kid (during the wicked part of winter) jazz playing in the background – all due to bad weather canceling school and travel to work that day.
— roggey Dec 1, 5:42pm # - Imported inks for my dip pens
Now there’s a book title if ever I saw one.
(You all are so fine.)
— gail Dec 1, 7:13pm # - Lingering too long – whether it’s lying in bed with my wife’s warm skin next to mine when the kids need to be woken up and packed off to school, stealing an extra minute in a hot shower, or talking too long on the telephone with an old friend who understands where I’m coming from.
Oh, yes, and listening to the rain on the roof at the cottage.
— GMR Dec 1, 9:26pm # - In addition to my list above, this is more in keeping with your idea of mortifying your children, or at least threatening to do so:
In NYC I wouldn’t merit a second glance, but because I have a shiny shaved head, wear thick black ironically nerdy glasses and dark, understated clothing, yet happen to be female, I stand out in the bastion of blah where I live, this provincial backwater where golfer-chic is the order of the day.
Because of this distinct look, I can indulge from time to time in my favorite guilty pleasure: Disguise!
Last Halloween I put on frumpy middle-aged woman clothes, pantyhose, high heels, wig, lipstick, contact lenses and jewelry, and went to the school where I teach, dressed as a generic parent.
Not one person had any idea it was me. I strode up to teacher after teacher and then even the principal, saying, “You know my son told me what happened, and I believe him, because he would NEVER act like that…” watching them squirm as they tried to figure out which student and which incident.
My students thought they had a substitute for the day, and even after I told them it was me, they just couldn’t see it at all and were really creeped out, saying it was the only truly scary costume of the day, hearing my voice emerge from a stranger.
A few months later my boyfriend took me to a doctor’s appointment and sat in the waiting room reading while I went in. After the exam, by prior arrangement I used their restroom to change into a nurse’s uniform, white stockings and shoes, wig, make-up and contacts.
I went out and asked him in a slightly altered voice, if he had an appointment. Zero recognition. He said he was just waiting for a friend, and I gave him a flirtatious llittle push and said, ‘You’re cuuuuute…’ He actually blushed and got all flustered and when I grabbed him and gave him a big kiss, he practically went through the floor with shock. He had NO idea.
— susan bein Dec 1, 11:21pm # - getting up and watching reruns of “dallas” and “the colbys” (until three weeks ago: “dynasty”) on german trash tv, dubbed into german, while sipping at least two large espressi (the latter pleasure being non-guilty, though). oh, and this is a daily ritual, of course.
— katatonik Dec 2, 12:37am # - blowing into my dog’s face (which she hates, which makes her do an adorable dance), dark chocolate, pretending i don’t speak english when confronted by unsavory characters at the bus stop, buying music when i should buy food, cashmere anything, taking drives at night when i should conserve petrol, stealing plant cuttings whenever and wherever i can, reading notes/lists left by others in library books, television, wishlists, mugging at the mirror in public restrooms when nobody’s looking, pointing or staring at something to see how many will follow suit, sleeping in, writing observational notes about passersby, singing along with bjork (terribly and loudly), memorizing entire movies and then quoting them at random much to the dismay of my family and friends, vintage coats, beautiful yarn.
— mary Dec 2, 3:56am # - seriously – is there ANYTHING that even remotely comes close to the guilty pleasure of chocolate? whether you crunch it quickly or let it melt sensuously (sp?) in your mouth, covering every square millimetre with that incredible cloying sweetness, transporting you – and you alone – miles away from any of the stresses that forced you to grab that bar in the first place – mmmmmmm, chocolate – want some, now!
— Jerry Dec 2, 1:55pm # - Chocolate… the common thread.
I bet you’ve never encountered a chocolate you didn’t like.
— Raf Dec 2, 4:47pm # - I speculate that there is (or should be) an inverse relation between the pleasure and the guilt: the more pleasure, the less guilt (unless you were raised Catholic that is, in which case all bets are off…)
And so my vote for guilt-free chocolate includes the Caracas (Ganache “brut de noir”) from Jeff de Bruges : a ballotin of those will tide you through almost any crisis…
A virtual clone of the above is available from Neuhaus – only they call it the Criollo (“chocolat amer au beurre frais”)
I suppose I should include my mailing address, in case someone reading this is feeling in a Christmas mood… :-)
— Michael Dec 2, 11:21pm # - If we’re talking chocolate …
For my mother’s 80th birthday we had a grand international family reunion in Toronto. Some wiseacre suggested that we have a chocolate competition. All visitors were instructed to bring samples of chocolate from as many different countries as possible. There was Belgium, France, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Israel, UK, USA, Canada and I can’t remember what else. Then came the blindfold test, where we had to comment on the taste and guess which sample was from where. The result?
1) There’s a helluva lot you can say about chocolate
2) Guessing the country of origin (at least for the non-connoisseur) is a matter of luck
3) Chocolate taste and quality vary enormously, and I mean like big time
4) I bet I have encountered a chocolate I didn’t like
— Nick S. Dec 3, 11:22am # - Someone else likes Djarum Lights!? That’s my secret summer cigarette. Secret because ‘I don’t smoke’.
and Gail, you are a bad influence on me… Awful Plastic Surgery dot com.
— debra Dec 5, 12:43pm # - Watching women. Blogdex and Yahoo! News Most Popular Stories. Singing in the shower, and all the songs I sing in the shower (today it was the 5th Dimension “Up, up, and away…” and “Bill, won’t you marry me, Bill…,” but usually it’s something folkier, like I’m some damned 1960s/1970s folk-rock nut), and thinking I actually sound good singing in the shower. Cigarettes and coffee at the coffee shop, tea and sandwiches at home, checking the hockey scores (!), grumbling about the cost of things, because I am my father. Glancing at women. Reading P.G. Wodehouse, Somerset Maugham, Philip Larkin, and various other unapproved and mostly British writers. Being glad when everyone else is sleeping or out, because I am my mother. Saying things like “oogly boogly boogly” to whatever cat I’m petting. Singing different lyrics to the cats. Ogling women.
— eeksypeeksy Dec 5, 10:08pm # - Being a genetic engineer or a stage magician or a store detective. School bullies who didn’t do so well in life. Watching your kid cope; watching someone else’s having to appeal for adult assistance. Cold pizza the day after, straight from the box. Saying yes please to the host who was only offering yet another serving or glass for form’s sake. Being behind glass in a darker area so people checking out their reflections don’t know you’re watching. Pot Noodles. Sending an e-card instead of a paper one (but why?)
Then there are the Chef’s Privileges:
1. Sampling the food
2. Adding spices to your own preferred heat
3. Swigging the last of the unused wine
4. The petty revenge of subtle serving size adjustments
And the Parents’s Privileges:
1. Having the last remaining treat because it wouldn’t be fair to give it to one child and not the other
2. Grazing off their leftovers
3. Playing with toys and reading books you could never have justified buying for yourself
— Zac Dec 6, 5:00am # - Eeksypeeksy? Hey, you’re one of my guilty pleasures. Reading Tram Spark and composing hot, sweaty, haikus in my head while I pretend to be engrossed in the proposal I’m supposed to be drafting is almost as good as chocolate. Nougat, even.
(Apologies for that shameless bit of obeisance. I’m a little drunk.)
— mish Dec 14, 6:20pm # - Nick (comment #3 above): Why do you feel guilty about finding Sarah Polley pleasurable?
i don’t mean to be snide – i’m really curious.
Mine are:
1. all sorts of laziness
2. eating unhealthy food like biscuits & gravy – or poutine! if only we had it in the US – after a long run or workout, thereby cancelling the health benefits
3. taking the slower bus to work so i have more time to read or listen to public radio
3. the television show “Reno 911”
— Amy H. Dec 15, 4:04am # - That was a quality piece. You’ve given me ammunition for when…. *coughs if I have children.
Cheers,
1beb
— Brandon Erik Bertelsen Dec 17, 4:24am #
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