The Never-Ending Quest for Right

All day yesterday was spent taking a great, giant journey to a faraway place and back, almost certainly a colossal waste of time. Again. I keep going terribly far out of my way to make a change for the better in my world, and as soon as I embark on the trek back home I feel empty inside, as the feeling of me wasting almost an entire day on travel washes over me like a dark storm cloud, as I realize the whole experience was completely pointless. It was beautiful and sunny, however, and the late winter sunniness was a constant bright spot to illuminate an otherwise self-defeating experience.
Last night we all watched "Confessions of a Shopaholic," which I begrudgingly attended with teenagers and one pre-teen. It made me realize that I might have a slight problem. I do like to shop, but it never becomes too much of a problem because I don't have endless amounts of resources to take advantage of the joy of buying new, shiny, beautiful things. I just do it in moderation, and, most of the time, it works out OK. As bad as the movie might sound, it was funny, the fashion displays were interesting, and the bit of romance it had is always nice in a movie. The romances that work in movies and books help me feel like true love is always possible. The stories always end before the actual tedium, the normalcy, and the annoying and insidious personality quirks corrode the relationship, bit by bit. Ah, but I have digressed. The way that lead guy's blue eyes sparkled ... and of course with a charming European accent ... I so want to believe.