You know, sophomore year of high school, my biology teacher asked us what we did during spring break, and I — completely voluntarily — proclaimed that I spent the entire break watching every Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie MULTIPLE times and now knew all the songs.
It is either a sign of how uncool my school was or how well my classmates knew me that I 1) didn't get my ass kicked, 2) didn't have any shit said to me about this.
Along with my theory of balance, I'm a firm believer in owning up to your dorkier interests. It plays into the theory of balance, because if we all know at least one embarrassing thing about the other person, no one can peer down on someone else from their obnoxiously high horse.
If someone handed me the Fear Street Saga books right now, I would read them. And then I would discuss them with people who had no idea what they were, because apparently I am the ONLY ONE who read the books about Simon Fear and his wife Angelica, which are the greatest because they involve frilly shirt cuffs.
I'm trying to think of other things I could potentially be embarrassed about, but part of the wonderful thing about the theory of balance is that I'm also reading the journals of Frances Willard and a book about the 1886 Haymarket Square riot, so if anyone gives me shit about other things I'm reading, I can just hit 'em with those. They're pretty heavy.
Now some of you are saying, "But Alice, if the theory of balance means you don't judge people, why do you judge people alllllll the time?" Well, first, I can be an asshole. And second, the theory of balance means you can read bad AND good things. If you only read bad things, then Judgment City: population me (you will be sitting outside the gates somewhere. being judged).
BY THE WAY, if you want to see Fred and Ginger kiss, you are best off with The Barkleys of Broadway. Carefree is hilarious, Flying Down to Rio isn't worth it, and the Britney Spears song 'Where Are You Now' played at the end of The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle will make 15-year-old girls cry.
It is either a sign of how uncool my school was or how well my classmates knew me that I 1) didn't get my ass kicked, 2) didn't have any shit said to me about this.
Along with my theory of balance, I'm a firm believer in owning up to your dorkier interests. It plays into the theory of balance, because if we all know at least one embarrassing thing about the other person, no one can peer down on someone else from their obnoxiously high horse.
If someone handed me the Fear Street Saga books right now, I would read them. And then I would discuss them with people who had no idea what they were, because apparently I am the ONLY ONE who read the books about Simon Fear and his wife Angelica, which are the greatest because they involve frilly shirt cuffs.
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| History makes everything better |
I'm trying to think of other things I could potentially be embarrassed about, but part of the wonderful thing about the theory of balance is that I'm also reading the journals of Frances Willard and a book about the 1886 Haymarket Square riot, so if anyone gives me shit about other things I'm reading, I can just hit 'em with those. They're pretty heavy.
Now some of you are saying, "But Alice, if the theory of balance means you don't judge people, why do you judge people alllllll the time?" Well, first, I can be an asshole. And second, the theory of balance means you can read bad AND good things. If you only read bad things, then Judgment City: population me (you will be sitting outside the gates somewhere. being judged).
BY THE WAY, if you want to see Fred and Ginger kiss, you are best off with The Barkleys of Broadway. Carefree is hilarious, Flying Down to Rio isn't worth it, and the Britney Spears song 'Where Are You Now' played at the end of The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle will make 15-year-old girls cry.
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