The Cupcake

Cupcake, you are my new imaginary boyfriend.

I have a lot of love to give you, my friends. I love everything. I love finding out how to do better just slightly more than I hate finding out how I have gone wrong, and that, my friends, is my secret. If the gap between my self-love and my self-loathing were just a little farther apart I probably would have been sharing this stuff starting long, long ago. Because I totally know it all! ha ha ha

And one of the things I know "all the way down," as they say, is how great cupcakes are.

Me and a friend of mine love going to movies together, because we like a lot of the same movies, but often pick different imaginary boyfriends from the actors. Which is way better than picking the same guy because a) you don't have to share. (Another benefit of my new imaginary boyfriend, the cupcake.) And b) you get to argue about it, and spirited debate may be another of our favorite things to do together.

Spirited debate is an extremely fragile and rare phenomenon, my friends. Because it is extremely hard to hold on to your knowledge with a firm and forthright joy, and, at the same time let other knowledge slip in the gaps between the fingers of your totally not-cold, not-dead hands. And for other reasons, of course. But I love it, because I "know it all".

I do not want to offer unsolicited advice to any specific persons, ever again in my life. (Except my family, because I have to live with you people. And because I can't handle your pain.)

I can not tell who can handle free advice, and would be grateful for the chance to cut corners or skip steps. Or who, at least, is not offended by my desire to help. Which unfortunately and frequently includes, as gift with purchase, the mistaken assumption that they do not already know whatever it is I'm offering.

And I totally want to help. But I am totally going to try and stop myself, because when I give it to someone who can't take it, they get irritated with me. And when I give the best advice ever, it is apparently unanswerable, and I don't get any spirited debate out of anybody. And it would totally kill me if you all shut up because I was so awesome. How do you think I learned this stuff anyway? I am totally a wonder-killer.

But I never stop wondering if I or you or we could do better, and if you shut up when I try to help, I totally won't have any material for this, my blog, which I love. So to bring a middle to this huge digression, I'm going to offer you that advice, if you ask for it. And are willing to pay for it.

Stashed somewhere on the home page of this, my blog, is a partially-obscured version of an email address, my first one ever. Drop me a line, and if your question seems personal, I will write up an answer and sell it to you on Amazon.com. It will be cheap. I am totally out to make a buck, as you may already know from my last post.

But I have faith that I can afford to give my best work (this blog and some other stuff I've been giving away for years) away for free. And offer other work for a low low price to find out if that will be enough to carry me over this cash-poor bump in the road, or finance my wildest dreams, or what. I'd prefer about two or three cents a page, because I am totally willing to pay about that much for a paperback book, the kind of book I buy most frequently when I actually have money to spare. But there may be a minimum price of 25 cents or something.

Who knows. I haven't worked out all the kinks. Hardly anybody has ever had a chance to ask me for advice before, because I can not shut up. ahem.

And I'm totally willing to work for more pay, if you've got some other great work to offer me in addition. I have a lot of trouble doing any other kind of work, which sucks for me because few of us have invested in a self-cleaning toilet. But you can totally pay me more for my advice which is not personal in nature. And I digress. And that is a shame.

Because, cupcake, you are the dream of perfection made real. You are beautiful, you are art. You are Fun! You are joy. You are tasty, and best thing of all, I don't have to share.

But I will. Because, cupcake, you are love. Love is the last cupcake, from you to me. And love is my cupcake. That I share or give away, because someone is totally cupcake-worthy.

But I totally want to pick my own. Because, cupcake, people are doing you wrong. There is so much good in you that you can not be ruined by mediocre cake batter, or destroyed by slapdash, worthless frosting. Cupcake, your value can totally shine through all that and more.

Though maybe not through too many cupcakes. Because a girl could totally get jaded. And fat. ahem.

Cupcake, I know you're an imaginary ideal and all. But cupcake, will you be mine?