My friend sent me this CNN article this evening about guilty pleasures. Or rather, why men don't have guilty pleasures. It's not manly to talk about having guilty pleasures. Most guys learn early on that we are not allowed to talk about how fattening that desert we just ate is. You do that kind of thing, and you get called names that I prefer not to put into writing.
That's the thing that happened to me in middle school. I learned what I was allowed to say, and what I wasn't. If I said something that was a little too girly, or made a joke that was a little too goofy, or talked too much about my feelings, my friends mercilessly made fun of me.
It wasn't all bad. It toughened me up, and my jokes are funnier because of it. Still, I haven't quite learned my lesson. I'll tell anyone that I agree with this guy: Quiche is delicious. I kind of like chick flicks starring Matthew Perry. And I like to talk about my feelings; put all that embarrassing and painful stuff out there. I think this blog is pretty clear evidence of that.
Is this a good thing? I don't know. I have a bad habit of getting onto Facebook when I'm upset and lonely and writing status like "I can't wait until this horrible month is over" and "sad." These, apparently, just make me sound pathetic. And a little like a teenager: ridiculous and emotional and completely lacking perspective.
I'm not really embarrassed by my feelings, but it's easy to forget that while I have a personal blog and a personal Facebook page, the internet is a public space. And just like I had to manage my image in in middle school to avoid being called names or kicked in the shins, it might be wise to manage my internet image as well.
But not too much. I'm going to go to bed now, and wait for this horrible month to be over.