Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I have a favorite coffee shop. It's pretty standard, as far as coffee shops go. The owner/barista has a tattoo of a fox curling around his ear, with the tail tracing underneath his jaw and I am in love with him. He eyes me with pleasured surprise, tickles my palm with the tips of his fingers when he hands me my change, brushes eyes with me at the exact moment of contact and grins wickedly. I hold my breath, blushing like a proper whore. He is the most charming man I've ever met. No force can shatter our lusty, caffeinated kinship. That shit is spiritual. I turn shyly to catch the next customer getting the same treasured gaze, and it smells like cinnamon and desire and I'm sure he douses his carrot cake with aphrodisiacs and I'm proud to be a part of his business, because that dude is sexy as hell.
Caryn also has a favorite coffee shop, but I don't really understand why. It just sounds like another coffee shop. She's a Jewish ESFJ who likes a tidy little Sunday, having a boyfriend, and reading her Kindle and eating giant tins of popcorn, but who doesn't like Holiday popcorn? Fucking everybody likes Holiday popcorn. Except for the haters, who can suck it.
But you see, Balance Overload is not really so much about the story of Caryn as it is about stuff, and stuff that is very safe, and her advice about stuff that is safe. Since she's a college career counselor, this is unsurprising. But as we all know: the information a blogger chooses to omit says just as much about them as what they include. Her mom reads her blog, poor thing. Caryn, honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?
Yeah, I know, your mom is your best friend and you tell her like everything, you fucking liar. You write with bland assurance and mechanical perfection, you give us at least one adorable aside per post and you end with questions intended to illicit small discussion. Clockwork. It's the sort of masked dynamic that makes me angry and then very, very sad, as if you want to articulate something important about yourself, but you don't want to reveal too much so you say it about the fucking Bachelor instead.
It's shit like that that brings me to my next point, which is integral: it is more important to me to defend the honor of Cottonelle over Charmin than it is to hear about your "religious odyssey", and my reasons are twofold:
1. Cottonelle is like wiping my ass with rainbows after shitting gold.
2. You give me no explanation as to why you and JB were conflicted in your interfaith relationship. I sense no tension in your words, I can find no reason for wasting your time on counseling. You are speaking in generalities. If I want to read generalities on interfaith relationships I will buy a book written by a fucking expert. But I want to hear about YOU, nancy-girl.
Your most telling entry, and your best, is this, and I like it so much I will link it twice. This is who you are. You are energized by simple pleasures and conclusions, and I dig that because it's personal and it fits you. It also tells me you're concerned with the destination rather than the journey. Yes, you are. YES YOU ARE. Don't argue with me, I'm right. Your blog is about general conclusions you make about stuff, with nothing detailing how you got there.
Unfortunately, that's not at all what I care about.