High Fructose Corn Syrup For My Brain

I'll admit it.  When it comes to music and books, I can be an insufferable snob.

However, deep down inside I have many guilty pleasures.  Especially when it comes to music.  In fact, I would say that I'm much more comfortable with my musical guilty pleasures than literary guilty pleasures.  I've got some Katy Perry, Ke$ha, P!nk, Taylor Swift, Maroon 5, and Carly Rae Jepson all loaded onto my iPod, but for exercise purposes only, or so I tell myself.  If I'm listening to cheesy pop music, I'm going to run faster to get the workout over with sooner right?  (This is what I tell myself.)  Pop music's got its place. You can't work out to Feist (except for electronic remixes).

But when it comes to books, that's where I usually draw the line.  I totally pass judgement on what people are reading on the subway, or what's in bookstores. 

Last week I saw someone reading the Nicholas Sparks book Safe Haven on the subway.  Sparks writes cheesy fare that gets turned into Hollywood schlock: The Notebook being the most famous example.  I, of course, judged.  I read The Notebook when I was eighteen, and thought it was amazing.  Which means that at my age, I would find it insufferable.  (I also found the movie insufferable when I saw it in my early twenties; I think Sparks' shelf life with my was very short.)

As I was judging the woman, suddenly a voice in my head said "wouldn't it be great to read something cheesy, mindless, and uncool for once?  It wouldn't take much effort at all!"  For some reason this question stuck in my head, and guess what paperback I picked up at Shopper's the other day?

Today on my subway ride home I was listening to the Fun. album Some Nights and reading my Sparks novel, and I actually realized that it brought me a degree of relaxation that I haven't felt in awhile.  Man, it felt good to let my snobbery go and indulge in high fructose corn syrup of the musical and literary variety (and at the same time).

Maybe this all comes from the fact that I don't eat sugar any more (except once a week) and my sweet tooth has been telling my brain that we need some sort of sweets.  Or maybe since I've been pushing my muscles with weightlifting, there's not as much energy left for my brain.  Who knows?  But seriously - I can't believe I'm reading Nicholas Sparks and enjoying it the way you would a pack of Skittles.  I'll feel bad later, I know.

I'll read something more nutritious next, I promise.