megfowler.com

As the daughter of a father who loves jazz, bespoke clothing and the New York Times Sunday Edition, and a mother who has beautiful taste in interior design, possesses a thorough knowledge of art history, and tends to wear black about 70% of the time, I have no idea how I ended up choosing flip flops as a wardrobe staple, loving the trashiest music of the mid-90’s, and knowing the names of every member of Dog the Bounty Hunter’s family.

Sigh.

Sure, I have many tastes in common with these lovely, cultured people who tried to provide me with classy genes, but I also, well… I read US.

I’ve done posts here inviting people to share their most shameful loves, but every single time I whip people into a confessional frenzy, someone pops up and says, “Why are you ashamed? I really like that stuff, and I don’t see anything wrong with it!”

Which is true, really — the idea of some things as “shameful culture” is highly variable. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and so on.

But we’re not talking about snobbery here. We’re not talking about stuff you proudly love and shout from the rooftops and are a fan of on the Facebook. I ain’t judgin’. Dig what you dig. Be proud. I could give a rat’s ass if EVERY SNAZZY LADY ON THE STREETS OF BOSTON STARED AT MY FLIPPITY FLOPPITY FEET IN DISDAIN.

No, what we’re talking about is the stuff you DO hide because it makes your friends and family groan, the stuff you don’t talk about at the office because your boss would demote you, the stuff you KNOW would make your spouse question your sanity, the stuff you see the WORLD mocking relentlessly… but you?

YOU CANNOT GET ENOUGH.

I want you to out yourself right here.

And I shall do the same.

SHAMEFUL JOYS

(I can hear my dad weeping already)

Million Dollar Listing
New York Fries at the mall with the “Cajun” salty stuff
Cosmopolitan
Singing along with Celine Dion (ONLY CERTAIN SONGS, I SWEAR)
Awards shows (and crying at speeches)
Extreme Home Makeover
I really love the little Polo horse and the little Lacoste alligator on my clothes
The entire Real Housewives franchise
Online personality quizzes
Compulsive lip gloss purchasing
Large, fake, cheap jewelry from Forever 21
Cherry Kool-Aid powder, consumed DRY
Uggs. Really. I want more pairs
Lik-M-Aid
Fake tanning
Boy bands
Anything “Salt N’ Vinegar”
Dance floor hits that rock dentist office Christmas parties: Disco Inferno, ABC, Mambo No. 5, and pretty much anything by C + C Music Factory

… and you?

(from 2006)

It’s time to admit…

that I don’t understand how the stock market works.
that I nearly blinded a man with a jujube.
that I used to have dreams that people turned into wolves when I turned my back on them.
that I have never been to see Disneyland or Disneyworld or a chiropractor.
that I add too much salt and lemon to almost everything.
that I have hugged many a tree.
that I felt a strong maternal affinity towards a small raccoon kit wearing a styrofoam cup on his head.
that I didn’t know baby raccoons were called “kits” until this evening.
that I suck at putting Ikea furniture together.
that I know how to hotwire a car and how to pick a lock.
that I sometimes laugh when I am supposed to cry in movies and cry when I am supposed to laugh.
that I love, love, love going to the symphony.
that I will play a fun little game online and think I’ve gotten a super-high score, but when I check the actual high scores, I am always about a million points short of making the leaderboard.
that I read the ends of books before I am even halfway through the rest.
that I should learn when to shut up.
that I should learn when to speak up.
that I can’t remember my Latin declensions to any significant degree.
that I hate disappointing my parents, but I fear it less each year.
that I believe most women could really use a better bra.
that I am too all-or-nothing.
that I sat in box seats at a Britney Spears concert.
that I am stricken by blueberry muffin lust.
that I am hard to surprise, but easy to startle.
that I have indeed shaken it like a Polaroid picture.
that I know you shouldn’t shake Polaroid pictures.
that I don’t always have the most outstanding instincts.
that I know the words to every last one of the American patriotic anthems, but have no memory of learning them.
that I like french fries more than carrot sticks.
that I would rather be yelled at than ignored.
that I enjoy the word boondoggle.
that I know I can sing better and louder than I let on.
that I write screenplays in my head.
that I am not sure whether it was the stream of curse words or the spritz of Windex that killed the spider tonight.
that I really do need to buy some shoes.
that I agitate more than I meditate.
that I don’t know if I’ll ever be a triathlete.
that I am resistant to editing on occasion.
that I turn up the music on my iPod and twirl on darkened streets with groceries flying and hair streaming and heart on fire.
that I am too sensitive to words and too insensitive with how I use them.
that I envy the fish in the sea.
that sometimes my body aches and then I have to deal with knowing why.
that I never want to get out of the sun.
that I sometimes get bored and turn off the hockey game.
that I overuse the term gong show, as well as fiasco.
that I wish people played Trivial Pursuit more often.
that I like dancing more than walking.
that I sometimes contemplate never writing again when I read something beautiful someone else has written.
that I sometimes feel a strange burning in my heart that reminds me to be thankful.
that I hate having things in my MacBook trash.
that I don’t understand what’s so ultimate about Ultimate Fighting.
that I have an overdeveloped conscience.
that I dropped a bag of coffee on the floor tonight by accident and apologized to the bag of coffee before I knew what I was doing.
that I think Gwyneth Paltrow is vastly overrated.
that I am far, far too in love with making lists.
that I have no intention of giving that up.
that I think — if you made it this far — you might think I’m nuts.
that I know for a fact you are at least 50% correct.

Hey, everyone.

I’m working on a bunch of posts right now on a variety of subjects, but it seems more important right now to send you a link to a way to help the people of Haiti.

My Uncle Dave has been working in Haiti for years with his organization, Hope International — primarily with hospitals and orphanages — and they’re currently reaching out to help the people in crisis there now, after the earthquake a week and a half or so ago. My dad and my Uncle Dale are on the board of this organization, too (which tells you that people I love and trust are behind this effort.)

I would ask you to give to Hope, because I have confidence that they are sending money directly to the people of Haiti, rather than tying it up in dubious “administrative” deductions.

You might have some discomfort with the faith-based nature of this organization. But I don’t at all, since I share this same faith.

My dad spoke with my Uncle Dave tonight, and he has confirmed that 100% of what you donate will go straight to the people in Haiti. That’s what puts my heart behind their efforts.

Please give, if you can.

And thank you.