Thursday, October 11, 2007
May the shame monkey visit your home often.
Tripping + falling + uttering inappropriate expletives + talking to myself + thinking the car is in reverse when it's really in drive + food in my teeth + reading trashy pulp like Us and People + not washing my hair for loooong periods of time + getting accidentally drunk + wearing inappropriate clothing + eating Ruffles and Top the Tater in vast amounts and often + wine-stained teeth and + occasionally, forgetting my lines
Things I should probably get embarrassed about, but don't.
I do not embarrass easily. Not these days anyway. As an adult I have learned to embrace that which makes me- well...me.
As an adult.
I think this complete and utter lack of shame stems from my childhood- a time filled with so much shame and humiliation that I don't think it would even fit in even the most spacious of psyches.
As I've mentioned before, we weren't exactly "affluent" when I was growing up. I almost never had any of the cool clothes or stuff that the other kids had. You had Kangaroo tennies? I had Roopocket tennies from Kmart. You had Guess jeans? I had Whatthefuckarethose jeans. You had a satellite dish and a remote-controlled t.v? We had four channels and a "remote" that consisted of me getting up off the couch to change the damn channel.
Rusty, broken-assed cars, junk in the yard, hand-me-down clothes, a bad perm, growing freakishly tall by the sixth grade, having boobs by the fifth, hee-haw relatives, bologna sandwiches, grocery store-brand pop, no-name kool-aid, clearance underwear and drunk family gatherings that always ended with inanimate objects getting shot really, really, REALLY didn't help the situation.
I lived in constant fear that my classmates would notice these things- that my jeans, shoes and well, everything wasn't the same as theirs. Sometimes they didn't, but mostly they did.
Some of you may remember the first time legwarmers were in style? I was in the sixth grade, and it was winter. All the girls had cute ones they had bought at Maurice's or Deb, or Stuart's. I begged and begged, and eventually all of my wishes came true- sort of.
Instead of being pink and purple and blue like everyone else's, and obviously store-bought, mine were beige, blue and mustard gold. And hand made- the horror! They were hideous.
But, my grandma had felt bad for me, so she knit me a pair in what she approximated were our school colors. I knew it was a nice, sweet, loving gesture, but I also knew that the minute I wore them I would be socially crucified.
So I did, and I was. It was mortifying in a way that only a gangly, dorky 12 year-old can be mortified.
Multiply this scenario by like, 10,573, and you get a sense of my early adolescence.
I'm no Psychaiatristdoctorperson, but I'm pretty sure I used up most of my shame reserves during those years, leaving the coffers nearly empty.
And for this, I am glad.
Shame and humiliation wastes so much energy and time. I need all the time I can get to do things like write blog posts about my ovaries. I need all of the energy I have to "re-enact" what I imagined happed this week on "Dancing with the stars", as I have never actually seen the show. My version involves sort of a hybrid breakdance/rhumba/Flashdance montage- am I close?
So...the point I have yet to come to here is this:
It's REALLY hard to embarrass me. Really.
And I was tagged by the lovely, smart and accordion-playing Ms. Feisty to pick five songs that I'm kind of embarrassed that I like.
So sit back, pour yourself a nice cognac, put your feet up and prepare to be dazzled...
The top 5 songs I love (way) more than I should (with video links, in case you don't know- as the case often is- what the hell I'm talking about):
#1) "All out of love" by Air Supply. I know all of the words to this song. All of them. I sing it so loud in my car when it's on that dogs a mile away start barking. For this, I should be a little bit embarrassed.
#2) "Xanadu" by Olivia Newton-John. It's totally one thing to love the ELO songs from this wonderful roller-disco epic, as I do (shout out to Mr. Lynne, alive and well). But to love this song as much as I do, well...not so much.
#3) "Bust a Move" by Young MC. I don't know if they still do it, but Grandma's Sports Garden in Duluth used to have an 18-and-up dance night that we went to ALL. THE. TIME. This song was on mine & my roommates regular rotation for our pre-game party at our apartment.
#4) "Kids in America" by Kim Wilde. I used to play this really loud in my bedroom and dance like Molly Ringwald did in the Breakfast Club.
And finally, one that I really, really, really, AM embarrassed about. Seriously. You can think less of me for this one- I'd understand. I can't explain it either. I'm as horrified as you are. Feel free to delete me from your computer.
Here it is...
I need to go and wash it off now. Sorry.
Try and remember that true love is unconditional. UNCONDITIONAL!