Yeah, I have sick fantasies about having Jeff Goldblum's love child. Why not? He's weird enough... he's tall enough... he's Jewish enough... if only I were about 10 years younger because apparently he likes the younger ladies. Bastard.
I don't know. He seems to be experiencing a bit of a renaissance lately -- what with starring on Law & Order (one of the L&O franchises). He even had a fake death reported the other week -- on the Day of Celebrity Deaths. That's saying something. My appreciation for things Jeff Goldblum-ey go back years... before The Fly even! Yeah, I've got it bad, and it made me think, of all the irrational celebrity crushes, why him?
Well, I blame my mother. I pretty much blame her for everything anyway, so she can take the rap on this one, too. My mother set me up in life with poor male role models -- starting with my father. It's generally accepted that he's a brand of bastard so unique that he deserves his own blog post, but that being said, I don't want to expend the energy. It was his birthday last week, a day along with Father's Day which tend to send me into an emotional tailspin every year but this year was particularly bad because it had been Frank's birthday the week prior. I was just thinking about the shitty men in my life... a LOT and it culminated with me throwing verbal jabs at a few friends, totally unprovoked and while I didn't cry, I felt pretty crappy after.
So, yeah. My father was a man who was geographically and emotionally unavailable -- and when I was a little girl, he was my hero. Seriously. Even after I realized he wasn't the brightest, the strongest, the most handsome man (hello adolescence) I still really respected my father -- I always went to him for advice before my mother and yeah, maybe I had a bit of a crush on him... no, it wasn't an Electra complex, just something like hero worship. My father was the first man to break my heart and it's been a run of heartbreak/ache since then (the first time was when he slapped me one night when he came home drunk... I was 7. My mom kicked him out of the house for a few days). So why do I gravitate towards these less-than men even when my head knows it's wrong? I don't know, even though it's wrong, maybe it's just comfortable because it's what I know. I thought Frank was different... actually, when I first met him, I thought he was gay -- he seemed sensitive and non-douchey but when it came to breaking up with me, he first told me he loved me and then sent me an email saying he "needed to be alone." Spineless twit.
And in Frank's case, I blame his mother. His mother clearly chose a poor male role model for him in his father -- his father who cheated with the neighbor lady and had a child with her... a child he moved into his wife's house when Frank was 10 and his half-brother was 5. That's got to mess a kid up.
This brings me back -- rather quickly -- to Jeff Goldblum. What do I know about this man? He's a fair bit older than me, but has a history of dating his younger co-workers (Geena Davis -- I loved Geena + Jeff... he dumped Geena for Laura Dern... don't know who he dumped her for, but now he's dating a 20-something Hollywood girl). He's a douchebag! And I love him.