I like what I like.  In fact, I like what I like so much this should be the title of the post.   Now occasionally, I do run across people who don’t like the things I like.  I know.  It’s a little shocking to me, too.  And sometimes those people are actually brazen enough with their dislike to try to convince me that I might be wrong.  I’m not.  Blame their Type A personalities and a dash of rudeness combined with a healthy dose of bad taste for why they had to give it a shot.  They can’t help it.  It’s just bad genes.

Of course, this all leads to a story.

I was recently talking to an acquaintance (not a friend – big distinction) who I occasionally exchange book suggestions.  They dropped by to say, “I didn’t care for your book.  I thought I’d let you know since you didn’t care for my book.”  Then they waited for a reaction.  My inner voice snorted and declared that the stupidest reason I’ve heard for not liking a book.  Are we five and  swapping “Little Golden Book” titles?  I managed to smile – you know the kind where your eyes don’t wrinkle around the edges as this person carried on – delighted with themselves for finally getting this great revenge for my not having liked their  recommendation. I finally retorted with something extremely clever along the lines of, “that’s your reason?  Huh.” (I know, I can’t believe I came up with that right on the spot.  I’m kind of quick-witted when pressed, as you can clearly tell.)  I then felt the need to back up my critique of their recommendation, “Well, I still like my book.  My close friends have all read the series and they liked it.  Your recommended novel became predictable by page 14.” I was clearly on a roll! “Was the author trying to give her super powers so we’d forgive how the main character slipped back in time with all of this incredible knowledge?”  Ok, it may not have gone quite like that, but I have a blog and they don’t.  Who knows, I may have just given them the crazy smile until they stopped talking. Anyway, I was completely indifferent to their statement and they eventually went away likely dissatisfied that I wasn’t shaken by their bad taste.  (Aside: The books in question were Jasper Fforde’s The Eyre Affair vs. Diana Gabaldon’s  Outlander.  And I’m ok if you dislike The Eyre Affair as long as your well thought out reason isn’t “well…. I don’t like it because you didn’t like Outlander!” because then I’ll have to bring up “your face” or “your mom” or “your pants” if we’re going to be completely childish and I have a blog.)

Recently, I made this person a Facebook “friend”, which I’m rethinking the wisdom of at the moment, because this person feels the strong need to greet me daily with comments on my posts.  (Well, you would, too.  I write amazing things like. “Going to work” and “O Hai” – deep, thoughtful stuff).  Another thing I like to do on FB is occasionally change my profile picture.  Everyone I know does this and I’m a bit of a lemming so I’m on the face changing band wagon.  I tend to cycle through a small set, so if you’ve seen the photo once, you’ll probably see it again.  When I change my profile picture I’m not really looking for comments, I’m just  looking for a change.  Enter Mr. I hate your book because you hate mine.  “Beth, I don’t like your FB photo.”  “Hrmm… well, I do.” “It’s unflattering.” “Really?  I still like it.” “It’s not a good photo.” BLAHBLAHBLAH!  I think he expected me to crumble and dash off to change the photo immediately.  Well, I’m here to announce that photo is going to stick around for a good long while now.  I’m kind of amazed I’ve had two people I don’t know well feeling comfortable enough with me to criticize my FB photos and desperately hope I care.  Bless their hearts.  Whereas, my closer friends, you know  – those people I actually care about, claim they like the photo (through heavy coaxing and bullying – you do whatever it takes sometimes).

In short, I like what I like and your bad taste is ok by me.  It makes our world a more interesting place or something like that. So, take that Mr. Book/FB Profile Picture Hater!  I’ve passively/aggressively told you on my blog and 10 whole people are totally on my whiney little side right now.