My 9 (Not So) Guilty Pleasures

As inspired by Holly and Phoebe Robinson, I have decided to also write a list of my not-so guilty pleasures. Beware: I. Am. Weird. 

1. Cleaning my ears almost every day. Okay, okay, okay, I know that this is unsafe and I’ve read all the horror stories of people further lodging wax in their ears by using q-tips to clean their ears, but GOD DAMN does it feel good. I don’t even care if wax comes out. And honestly, it usually doesn’t because I literally clean my ears almost ever freaking day. To me it’s like scratching that hard-to-reach middle part of your back after wearing a scratchy top. Cleaning my ear makes up for all of the times throughout the day that my ears itch. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll damage my ear drum and no longer be able to live the stressful life of a music major/teacher. Just kidding. I probably shouldn’t even speak that into existence. But here it is on the internet forever. 

2. Cleaning the dirt out from under my nails. Apparently most of my guilty pleasures are just going to expose me for how gross of a person I really am. But there is nothing that grosses me out more than dirty finger nails. I love the look of clean finger nails so to me it only makes sense to clean them incessantly. Unfortunately, this often results in my also pulling off any hang nails I may have. Which then leads to a week of painfully washing my hair due to my sensitive finger tips and occasionally causing my hangnails to bleed because I really just can’t leave anything alone. #perfectionisticanxietytendencies 

3. Picking tape off of walls. Do you ever walk down a residence hall and there’s just residual tape left from some flyers from God only knows when? Yeah. It drives me insane. So what do I do? Shamelessly pull tape off of walls. Even better? Pulling tape off of walls when it’s been painted over. This is best in the on-campus apartment walls or the trad-hall walls. It is so damn satisfying to me to peal up that tape. Ugh. I can’t explain it. All I know is I’m weird and I am okay with that. 

4.  Stabbing cork boards with pushpins that aren’t in use and similarly pulling out old staples. I love the Frank Center because there’s so many cork boards and some of the walls have this nasty, used-to-be soundproofing, carpet-like covering over them and it is freaking GREAT for stabbing. Especially if you’re in a practice room and the music gods are just not on your side and you keep messing things up and life just SUCKS because you’re lesson is tomorrow...ok now I’m basically just talking about myself... Anyways. This stuff is absolutely great to stab with pushpins and thumb tacks and it makes such a satisfying noise and is great for getting your pent up, violent frustrations out. As I mentioned I also love stabbing cork boards with staples. Especially if there’s enough left over pins to make a face out of? Oh yes. You can bet your sweet buns I’m going to make what ever face I am feeling at that time. It is not an uncommon sight to see me standing in the halls for the Frank Center just stabbing cork boards with push pins. I love it. The more I read what I just wrote the more I realize I should probably go to therapy over my clear aggression issues. What did that board or wall ever do to me? Similarly, I love pulling out old stables left in cork boards. It feels like a public service absolutely no one asked for. I feel like I’m doing good while satisfying myself in a very strange way. I can’t explain it beyond that, but all I can say is I love it and derive great pleasure from it. Not in a sexual way. In like that “super satisfying” snapchat story way...you catching my drift?

5. Serial Killer shows/podcasts/books. I love learning about serial killers. I wouldn’t say this is a super weird guilty pleasure? But I just find their killing of people fascinating. They’re so sick and twisted and it is just beyond me that someone can do that. It’s so far out of my realm that it fascinates me, and this is coming from someone who once cried while attempting to eat a ham sandwich because she loves pigs so much. I’ve always loved psychology and analyzing people through their actions, I guess I just fantasize that maybe if I hadn’t stupidly chosen to pursue music (if you haven’t noticed, I slightly regret being a music major) that I could’ve made a career from my ability to read people. But alas. I will continue to play the metal fart machine (aka Tuba) and binge watch/listen/read about serial killers. 

6. Slightly related to the previous guilty pleasure, I love to read people and try to figure out their stories.This comes from eavesdropping on the EPTA or stalking social media pages or just watching their every move. Does this make me a creep? Probably. Will I continue to do it? Probably. I shamelessly get sucked into instagram scrolling back to people’s most cringe inducing posts from 2013  trying to build a mental story of what they may have been through or why they are the way they are. It’s too personal to ask, so why not use the world at my fingertips to figure out people’s stories? I fully acknowledge that this is slightly morally wrong. It’s kind of an invasion of privacy but it’s not like I’m reading people’s mail? They willingly put it on the internet and I just happened to spend half an hour scrolling all the way back to find out if they also had a scene/emo phase hoping maybe I’ll share that unspoken bond with them... 

7. Fantasizing my future life on Pinterest. Pinterest is EASILY my most used social media, if you could call if that. I spend more than 2 hours a day on Pinterest pinning vegan recipes and homemade beauty products for when I live a more sustainable life, planning my wedding to a future spouse I don’t have, dreaming of tattoos I would get if I didn’t work a minimum wage job less than part time, planning a garden I can’t have because I live in a college dorm, finding art inspiration for art I don’t have time to make, the list goes on and on... Growing up I didn’t really use the internet much. My parents really tried to protect me from all the bad stuff the internet could theoretically (and probably would have) introduced me too, so I basically use the internet the same way a middle aged white mom would: the occasional Facebook post about my family or friends, reposting food or activity posts I’ll never make or do, and being a part of random Facebook groups to feel “hip with the times”, pinteresting, and reading sketchy articles about what may be wrong with me because my hip hurts. And if I’m not using the internet like a middle aged white woman, I’m using it the same way I did as a 10 year old. Which leads me to my next guilty pleasure. 

8. Poptropica. Remember this? Yes? No? Anybody? Ok well, not to brag but I’ve had the same Poptropica account I made sitting at the computer during indoor recess with my friends in 3rd grade. I have also completed almost every island and own almost ever costume from the little Poptropica store thing where you buy extra stuff for your “Poptropican”.  If you’re unfamiliar with Poptropica, you may be lost by this point so I’ll give you a quick rundown. It’s an online game where you have this character which was given some random combination of an adjective and a noun for a name, (mine is Scary Skunk) and you go around and complete these islands which are little adventures where you have to make things right again for whatever the characters on the island did to mess everything up. If you complete the island, you get a little medal. It’s clearly geared towards children. How do I know? If I were to create a new character now, the age you select tops off at 16+. I am 20 going on 21. Do I care? Not really and that is why it is my not so guilty pleasure. I am a BOSS at Poptropica and I shamelessly play it on the library computers while avoiding my homework. If you ever see me playing it? Simply laugh to yourself and go on your merry way because I’d clearly be in the middle of a very important mission! 

9. I went back an forth on what to put for this last one. I couldn’t decide what seemed like a true guilty pleasure or just another weird thing about myself but I think this one definitely would be (not so) guilty, because I know it’s wrong but I don’t actually care, and definitely a pleasure because it is what I go to bed looking forward to in the morning: Coffee. But not just coffee, each time I make coffee I dream of being a barista. I treat each cup of coffee as if I were making it for some busy New York Executive fancy person who pays more than $4000 for rent and still somehow has room in their budget for a gourmet cup of coffee each morning. I love my espresso machine I got for Christmas this past year. It has most rounded out my coffee-making-apparatus collection. I have a French press, I have a milk frother, I have a standerd drip pot, I have a Keurig, with reusable K-cups because I’m #sustaibable (see #7), a coffee bean grinder, a collection of coffee syrups, cute jars for all of my coffee needs like sugar, sugar alternatives and coffee beans, and a Moka Pot which is the traditional way to make Italian espresso before all the fancy-shmancy electric espresso machines were invented. I buy my coffee whole bean from small batch roasters (Check our Zeke’s coffee if you’re ever in Baltimore). I grind it before each use.  I am a C O F F E E. S N O B. I’m probably not nearly as bad as some people, but for a college student who works a minimum wage job? I’m definitely a little bit over zealous with my coffee addiction. I invite people over and make them espresso drinks. I ask my roommates if I can make coffee for them not only because I love them, but mostly because I just want to be a barista. I THRIVE off of people telling me I make a mean cup of coffee. If I could somehow make a solid career just around coffee, I’d happily throw my tuba in the Potomac River and just make coffee for the rest of my life. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. Maybe it’s not. That’s up for you to decide. To top it all off?? I only use hand made mugs to drink my coffee out of when I’m at home. Talk about snobby. It jus hits differently. It’s my little piece of heaven every morning. And every afternoon. And ever evening. And even every night. I love coffee.  I can’t say it enough. It’s slightly pathetic but I guess that’s what makes it a not-so guilty pleasure.

Well, there it is. My list of 9 of my guilty pleasures. Was it over sharing? Yep. Do I care? Nope. Because I am shamelessly myself. Will my future boss(es) come across this if they google my name before hiring me? I hope not but if they do, they just get a jump start on getting to know how absolutely strange I am. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, what I shared above. But hey, if you ever want to learn more about me over a cup of coffee, I will willingly invite you to my chaotic college dorm and make you a coffee and over share even more. Maybe I’ll even show you all of my Poptropica metals to show how much of a boss I really am.  

Yep. You see that? 55 Islands Completed. That is 12 years of hard work right there bay-beee! But only one like... I guess the 8 year olds on Poptropica probably don’t want to be friends with a 20 year old who still plays on her original account...