Too Virtuous for My Own Good?

by Gigi Pandian

Much to my dismay, I'm awful at having vices.

How cool would it be to sit in a candle-lit study with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey while typing away at a novel? Yes, very cool.

Alas, I tried smoking in college and hated it. More recently, I gave up alcohol during chemotherapy treatments, and found I didn't miss it one bit. What kind of tortured artist am I?

Gigi with a cup of strong coffee. Bliss.

Sure, I've got my coffee. But does that even count as a vice? Lots of studies show coffee is good for you.

One of my biggest fears about being a writer has always been that I don't possess enough angst to write meaningful stories. At first I thought cancer would solve this problem. Instead, it turned out that even in a supposed crisis, I don't freak out.

But I realized something else while going through cancer treatments. The books I was devouring weren't deep explorations of disease or crime or the human condition. I didn't want an excuse to cry. I wanted to be carried away on adventures that would inspire me to take my own. I was picking up lighthearted mysteries with a heavy dose of adventure -- the stuff I like to write.

So perhaps it's not so bad that I wrote some kick-ass pages last weekend while eating a kale salad instead of with a cigarette dangling from my lip.

Martha's Defense of Vice

I'm not the type to deny myself.

Good food? I eat it.
Nice things? I buy them.
Social life? I haz it.

Why would I say no to myself? I LOVE myself. I give myself anything and everything.

In fact, I am PRO vice.

Let's break the big ones down, shall we?

Vice #1: Vanity aka Self-Love (no, not *that* self-love you dirty gutter-minded folks)

I never understood why Dante was so down on self-love. Even bringing in the religious mentality - if God made me in his image, and I love God, why wouldn't I also love myself? And who wants to hang out with a wallowing mess of self-pity anyway?

Vice #2: Greed

Our entire economy and society is built on the premise that I want things I don't have. Wanting leads to motivation and innovation. Wanting keeps things interesting.

Vice #3 Lust
Are we or are we not supposed to procreate as a species?

Vice #4: Anger
You know what creeps me out? Indifference. If things like child abuse, sexual abuse and human slavery don't make you angry, there is something wrong with you. For realz.

Vice #5: Gluttony
See Greed

Vice #6: Envy
See Greed

Vice #7: Sloth
Okay, I'll admit. I'm not a fan of sloth. I don't even like to sleep because it feels lazy.

I know, I know, your body is replenishing and your brain is doing something (useless) and it's good for you and studies show this but these studies don't compare what I can get done while I'm awake to whatever happens when I'm asleep.

On the other hand, I just got back from the Carribbean and everything else seemed to be a way to kill time until my next nap.

Breakfast then nap.
Lunch then siesta.
Pool time then doze.
Dinner then nod off.
Entertainment then sleep.

I also discovered the Snuggie for the first time, which is a genius napstastic accoutrement that makes you feel like you're being cradled by angels. I don't know what you got from me last Christmas, but this Christmas, it's probably gonna be a Snuggie.

(You're welcome.)

I digress - bottom line, if you've made it this far in life without giving into one of the big seven, you're probably not reading this blog as blog-reading is firmly covered under Vice #7: Sloth.

Ergo, I can say terrible things like those other people. Like they aren't very interesting. Not YOU, however. If you're reading this blog, you're fantastic.

Shared Vice

Shared Vice
by Lisa Hughey


Vice. It connotes bad things. Depravity, sin, things to be avoided, things, potentially, to be ashamed of.

And now I confess that I have shared my vice with my children. Not just shared but encouraged.  

Bet you're wondering...what could it be?

We've covered television, smoking, drinking, naughty magazines, fried eggs. And even with all those topics, no one mentioned my vice. But I guarantee that every single Pens has the same addictive vice that I do.

I love Books. Paranormal romance, mystery, historical romance, time-travel romance, thrillers, non-fiction, science fiction, fantasy, erotica, romantic suspense. 

Reading books is a huge time suck. And in this age of uber-productivity and twenty-four hour connectivity, people are expected to be on task and on target every single waking minute.

So how do I unplug? I can lose hours to a good book. Sometimes, I will spend an entire day gorging myself on more than one. More like two, three, four, even five books. Usually I hunker down in my bed, comforter fluffed around me and a stack of books by my side. I only emerge from my little cave for tea and the occasional sustenance. And by the end of the day, my bed is littered with the leftovers from my voracious reading habit.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Share my vice with me and cuddle up with a good book. 

Lisa

ps. I'll leave you with this darling video.

I Just Can't Help Myself

--Adrienne Miller

I know it's wrong. I know I'm not supposed to like it. Everyone tells me to stay away. But do I listen? Oh hells no. 

It's just too good. I'll take it just about anywhere. Even in places nature didn't intend for it to go. So hot. So sticky. Heaven help me, I even love it when the gooey stuff goes everywhere.

Yep, I love fried eggs. Lately, they're my main vice.

Yeah, I know they're kind of wimpy as vices go, but you have to cut me some slack. I don't really drink all that often. I haven't smoked in a long, long time. I don't like to gamble, and I've been with the same guy since I was twenty. I'm aware that maybe it puts me a little on the boring side, but I'm a pretty upright citizen.

Which doesn't leave me too many options on the vice front. So fried eggs it will have to be.

But why should I have to make excuses for something that tastes so good? Plop one of those bad boys on just about anything and it goes from ordinary to awesome. Hash browns. Grilled cheese. Fried chicken.

Regular burger becomes awesome burger. 

Oh yes, I made and ate that. Without shame, baby. Without shame.

Vintage Vice

--by Juliet

As an adolescent in suburban Cupertino California in the 1970s, I had to keep on my toes if I wanted any shot at finding vice of any kind. Oh sure, drugs could be had at the high school, but I never liked the folks who used – if I wanted to sit in a corner and babble, I could do it without external influences. The vice I was most interested in was SEX.

But smut was hard to find.

Keep in mind: back then “Adult Content” was available only through “Adult Stores”. And those kinds of places did not exist on Cupertino’s leafy streets.

But then one day I was snooping, and I came across my dad’s stash of Playboy magazines.

It was a revelation. I know, I know, objectification of woman, yada yada yada. I get that. As an adult I can see that the women featured in these magazines were made out to be acted upon, rather than as independent actors in their own sexuality. But at the time all I could think was: these women appeared to be having fun. They seemed to like sex. They were smiling, sunny and happy in their nakedness.

I spent many delectable hours poring over these publications. And I didn’t just check out the magazines for the pictures. Oh no, I was there for the articles. Okay, not all the articles…but some of them were highly informative. For someone with almost no sex education at school, and very little on the homefront --my dear mother tried, but women from her background simply did not talk about such things-- this was all incredible information, ripe to be shared with friends. I especially liked the jokes at the back. They carried with them a wealth of cultural as well as sexual information.

Soon I realized that every home I babysat in was a potential gold mine. I don’t mean to disillusion anyone about a) what a nosy kid I was and b) what babysitters in your house might be up to, but I looked around. Usually you didn't have to go any further than a bedside table. And it wasn't just Playboy or Penthouse. I found The Kama Sutra. The Joy of Sex. Our Bodies, Ourselves. Wow. My young mind was blown.

Granted, now that so much more is available on the internet, I'm sure much of the motivation for snooping has been leached from our young. And it's worthy of note that much of vintage Playboy's "art" would be too tame for the likes of many fashion and gossip magazines, today.

As far as introductions to smut go, this was much gentler than what the average adolescent finds today when she Googles "sex" or anything of the ilk. Some of that stuff shocks the hell out of me, so I can only imagine what an innocent young mind might make of it all.

And no, 1970s "men's magazines" were not the best introduction a young woman could have to the world of sex and sexuality. But as far as smut goes...it was exciting, fun, and so, so naughty.

Oooh, the wonderful vice of it all.

Vice is Fun

A vice is a habit or behavior considered immoral. And therefore, honey, they are FUN.
Running down the list of a few of my favorites:

1. Writing. I tell lies for a living. I make up truth, and then I make it up some more. When the lies are thick as tar, it's time to lay them on thicker, until the subject being written about is squirming and hopelessly stuck. And get this: the better the lie is, the harder it will be to tell that it's untrue.

2. Smoking. It's bad for you, and I don't do it. But the only reason I don't do it is because if I had even half a cigarette, I'd be back to a pack a day in a week. I've been an ex-smoker now for almost ten years, and I still love the smell of it. It's a sexy vice, too. Is there anything as seductive of that play of hands and mouth, the dance of smoke?

3. Sugar. Some people like crunchy snacks? Save 'em. I can leave a bag of potato chips on the counter for a month, but if you put ice cream in front of me and fail to remove your hand, I will bite it right off as I dive headfirst into the pint. I live, breathe, and run on sugar. Once, I cut it out of my life. For six months, I ate nothing sweeter than the occasional depressing drip of agave syrup on my oatmeal. I lost weight! I felt better than I ever had before! I was strong! Lean! Fast! Then I ate a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter minis, and I'm slower, heavier, and yes, happier.

4. Accordion. I don't think I need to say anything more than that.

(Oh. Maybe one more.)

5. Bluegrass. Don't tell me it's wrong because it feels so right.

And at its core, isn't that what vice is about? Be it Scotch or fast women (and with luck, both!), vice is bad. And that's why the thrill is particular, why the rush feels so good. Yes, we may regret it later, but let me play that accordion along with my Doc Watson album while drinking Laphroig and eating M&Ms, and I'm a happy-in-the-moment girl. I might regret the hangover tomorrow, but tonight, it's exactly what the doctor ordered.