Today was one of those late-sleeping, 4-PM-beer-drinking, lazy days in which I'm still wound for sound at 2 AM, and the only thing left to do for fun and excitement is wash the dishes, pants-less, while listening to Blondie and The Raconteurs, singing along while sudsing. Though we've come a long way from the homemakers of the '50s, I'm hoping that one day, I'll find a member of the opposite sex who appreciates this method of housekeeping more than the former.
Speaking of the '50s, Alli and I started compiling a list of the old movies we have to watch: Breakfast at Tiffany's, The Glass-Bottom Boat, The Maltese Falcon, and Creature From The Black Lagoon.
"I still haven't seen it," I told her. "It's my dad's favorite classic monster movie." Before she could say anything, I cut her off. "And you can lay off the Freud."
"I wasn't going to even touch that one," she told me.
Conversation, as it is apt to, turned then to our hot neighbor, who I'd run into earlier in the afternoon. "You know, he's supposedly really, really smart," Alli told me. "He was working on some genetics thing in Jamaica when he was there. That, and goat farming."
I ask you-- isn't that some sort of excellent? It brought up the question to me-- What sort of man do you want to end up with? If Freud is right and all young women are really just looking for another father figure, I'm going to need to find a jack of all trades, and master of most with a fantastic taste in cinema. If Alli and my not-so-innocent Mr. Roger's Neighborhood crush is any indication of the sort of person who stops us in our tracks, it's going to have to be someone with beautiful eyes. Someone real intelligent. With quirks.
And what about me? Is this smart, savvy, debonair jester
going to want me, singing Blondie at 2
AM as she finally,
finally, FINALLY does the dishes? A girl who names her cat after her favorite Italian waiter and can't say no to a dress in a particular shade of pink? Who stutters "rural" and sasses police officers when drunk? Who will never NOT be able to have an opinion on anything, but hopes her charm and colloquial vocabulary makes up for it? As Holly Golightly said in Capote's novel the movie was based on, "Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell...You can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky."
This is all I can say definitively on the subject: It ain't gonna work unless he's nocturnal, too.
P.S-- If you already haven't, pick up a copy of "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Holly is a true original.