bess.bigwhoop.org

I think I'm becoming slightly normal -- through no intended fault of my own -- and it's freaking me out. That is, I've been exhibiting some pretty straightforward signs of outright normalcy, and I'm not sure what to make of it. Television could be the culprit, what with my recent Veronica Mars obsession (after borrowing the first season on dvd, downloading torrents of the second, and buying individual iTunes episodes of the third thus far, I'm currently up-to-date and am, no lie, whiling away my time until tonight's show is over & done with & available for download online, since I don't actually own a television set -- yes, "set" -- and thus can't watch it live.)

Television-watching is in & of itself "normal", but does it lead to other forms of normalcy? Is it a gateway medium? Because I recently found myself -- wait for it, here it comes -- getting a credit card. Yes, I -- Bess Jankowski, age 30, same person who just opened a bank account like a year ago for the first time -- am now a member of the thoroughly normal, Big Brother-monitored populace rewarded more for borrowing money and paying it back at a later date than just paying up-front with the money you already have and calling it a day. I am now part of the very branch of society I've always vehemently loathed, and you know what scares me the most? I'm not that fazed.

So there's the tv-watching (the boy hooked me up with the first few seasons of The Wire, which I started in on yesterday -- and let me also take this opportunity to announce that the boy also turned me on to Veronica Mars, a fact which I was told needed to be given air time equal to my props to one "Canadian chump's" mixed cd), the credit card, and then yesterday I found myself dancing around the room to... (Marie, cover your ears)... a song by...

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...Regina Spektor!

Shh, don't tell anyone! I'm not supposed to like Regina Spektor, am I? I mean, her lyrics are cheesy and she's way too pop for my tastes, right? She's signed on with a major label, feeds the patriarchy to the max, etc., etc. -- am I wrong here? But I really love that one cheesy-pop song of hers -- I can't help it! You know the one I mean. Yes, that one. I'm sure I'm about a year behind schedule with its coolness timeframe, but I don't care.

And then I come into work this morning to learn that my role model got engaged over the weekend. My role model! Engaged! And of course I'm happy for her and we all saw it coming, etc., but I've always really admired her from afar -- we all sit at our desks, eavesdropping on her righteous tell-off sessions and words of wisdom, seriously writing them down for potential future use of our own, had we ever the balls -- and I guess that somewhere deep-down-inside I always sort of hoped that she'd never play in to the absolute farce that is the institution of marriage.

You see, Bess Jankowski doesn't watch tv, have a credit card, or listen -- no, dance around the room -- to Regina Spektor. And Bess Jankowski's role model? Doesn't get married.

What's more? And this is the scariest part, so you may want to cover your eyes...

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...Bess Jankowski does not refer to herself in the third-person.