Subtitle: ‘Perfect’ waste
I should have gone to see “Betwitched.” But, alas, riding high on my reaffirmation of my “I’m the best date I’ve ever had” theory, I opted to let myself choose the movie, and the choice was “The Perfect Man.” It was perfect, all right. Perfect shit.
Going into it, I expected it to be formulaic. So with that out of the way, I could try to get past the fact that the best cinema I saw was in the “coming attractions.” Like, try to hold me back when “Pride and Prejudice” comes out! I’ll tell you what — MY perfect man would take me to see that one (potential suitors, take note!).
Anywho, I was kind of inspired that Hilary Duff’s character was a blogger with a beloved little iBook. And I was sort of chagrined that I identified more with her character than Heather Locklear’s (given my awe of Heather and general disdain of Hilary) — the movie ended up reminding me of my mom and me. The mom dates losers, as does mine (Exhibit A: Scumby) — not to mention that these otherwise fabulous women hang on to these obliviots until there’s nothing left of themselves.
And Hilary’s character chose to not get attached to anything or ANYONE because it’s so much easier to walk away when there’s no reason to look back over your shoulder. They moved around a lot — and I did too, growing up (and still do).
Don’t worrry — I’m not giving spoilers. The movie will spoil your will to live, though, so be warned. 
But back to the moving-around-a-lot scenario. I was at a fabulous party last night, surrounded by fabulous people that I thank my stars every day for giving me the good fortune to meet and to know. And I had half a bottle of tequila lodged in my brain (generally a good thing), but I was trying to keep quiet and not embarrass myself much because I am a fun drunk and I don’t know if people really need to see my version of fun, which often includes mounting things and people — and not everybody would think it was as cute as did the men I met in bars in my 20s, I presume. I would like to, after all, CONTINUE to know these people!!!
But during one of my lucid moments, I remember thinking how I’ve often wished I had a home to go back to — that my family would have owned a house and we would have had a home base — a touchstone — a place to go to remember one’s roots or even from which to go back to start over again. Hell, something to pass down through the generations to either keep or sell.
And maybe that’s why I waste so much money on so much shit — I don’t stay anywhere very long (two years max — I’m coming up on two years in my current place and am starting to crave a new setup — it’s in my bones, I suppose) but I cram my places full of crap to make it feel like I’ve been in them forever.
Yesterday, I looked around at this wonderful family home with this wonderful family and wondered what it would be like to have roots — to, instead of wasting money on moving every couple of years (and fixing/replacing all the shit that the fucknut movers manage to break — fuck, I’m still working on that one), reinvest that money in adding something fantastic to the house (like a hot tub. Oooh, they had a hot tub. *drool*).
But back to the movie: While it was cutsey-wootsie and all that fun stuff, it wasn’t a terrible way to spend an hour-plus (although, with previews, that made it a solid two hours). My mind was wandering most of the time anyway, so I enjoyed the air-conditioning on this 94-degree day, in any event. After being spotted by Old Spice at my beloved park and running like HELL to my car before he could get to me (fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK — now where am I going to go to write?!?!) and avoiding his follow-up call, I was looking to hide from the world for awhile. And to indulge myself, just for a spell, to think about what I was trying NOT to think about when I accepted the initial offer.
So, all in all, yes I believe the “perfect man” exists and that’s why I spent the money on the movie. And the fundamental lesson I learned is that you just “know.” And maybe I’ve never had a true *home* up until now, but maybe that’s something I’m going to find — and help to make — when the time is right.
On iTunes: Gina Rene, “U Must Be”
I might just toil around town and make fun of the tourons — I’ve been wanting to hit the 