By jshamsmith on November 30, 2012
I have weird obsessions, or addictions, if you will. I get obsessed and then can’t think of anything but for months on end.
Way back when Titanic came out, I cried for a week over what turns out is a really dumb movie. I saw it three times in the theaters, which at 3 hours, meant some serious dehydration tactics to make it the whole time without peeing. That was when I was 18, now, it’s just impossible – I didn’t even make it halfway through Magic Mike, which was only an hour and a half total. And trust me, I was tempted to just pee in my seat rather than miss a good part (oh Channing, you can dance boy). Anyways, back to sad ships. For the next year or so, I bought every Titanic book I could get my hands on, played Titanic video games, memorized the passenger manifest, drug Mark and various roommates to Titanic exhibits and listened to that stupid Celine Dion song a billion times crying alone in my room. I even convinced myself my strong feelings for this movie were because I had actually died on the Titanic, which is why I felt such a strong spiritual connection to it. Clearly, I am the most rational person you’ll ever meet.
As for recent addictions, Twilight was my first post-kids addiction. I couldn’t put my finger on why it was so freakin good to me. I read Breaking Dawn 4 times. I’ve never read a book more than once ever. But, like I said before, it was pure escapism. How awesome would that life be? Richer than God. Beautiful. Sparkly. No need to poop. A kid that tells you what they want by touching your face thus eliminating the guesswork and who also happens to come out of the womb pretty much a fully functioning human being. A husband who exists solely for you. I could go on, but recently Grace hit her head last week on the curb, which meant crazy amounts of blood EVERYWHERE, and it finally put the nail in the coffin. Blood is disgusting and smells really super gross. I guess, I’ll keep my cake and poop it too. Oh well.
Next obsession. 50 Shades of Grey. Mark is having the best year of his freakin life. Too bad this book didn’t come out when I was in great shape, 10 years younger, 30 pounds lighter, and no kids in the house to quiet it down for. Oh well, he’ll take what he can get, and thank God the kids are really heavy sleepers. This has led to other smutty books, hence a happier Mark, who actually just recently told me I needed to “slow down,” which means the poor man is tired. Ladies, I have tons of recommendations. I go through a book every few days, all while working, raising kids, cooking and keeping a house clean. OK, OK, I was joking about the last two, but the first two, I do everyday. I have some that make you laugh out loud (Alice Clayton, seriously read the Redhead series. Best. Books. Ever.) to books that make Christian Grey look like a pansy (Tiffany Reisz Original Sinners’ series. There are no words).
So that’s where I am stuck right now. Mark is happy and thankfully, fixed, and I am waiting for the next thing to totally obsess about. I am hopeful that one day, it will be a eating healthy and exercising addiction. One where I’m all like, “Oh my God you guys, I just can’t stop eating these brussel sprouts!” Or, “I just did the Insanity workout and can’t wait to do it again tomorrow!” Or maybe just once say, and really mean it, “Ew. All you have are donuts and pastries? Do you have any apples I could eat?” Maybe one day. Not likely, but maybe.
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