I used to find myself in situations—dates, parties, lunches with coworkers—when the question was, "What's your favorite movie?" Since I didn't keep a mental ranking of every film I ever saw, I usually answered, "Oh, I don't know. There are so many, each with things I really like." That would throw a wet blanket on the conversation. Social interaction was never one of my strong points.
Finally, I decided I'd just pick a movie from my cluster of favorites to use as my standard answer. But it had to be one that others were unlikely to name, because I needed to be different, quirky. I had a personal image to maintain. So I picked Brazil. Problem solved. I had a ready reply. Conversation could continue, because I had to explain/defend why I liked a weird Orwellian dystopian tragic romance so much. (Because, duh, it's a weird Orwellian dystopian tragic romance.)
These days people ask me, "Of all the places you've been in your van dwelling wanderings, which did you like best?" Urgh, here we go again.
As with movies, I've decided to just pick one. It still needed to fit with my imagined self-image, though. It needed to be different and unexpected.
"I'd have to say Slab City."
And then I explain/defend why, continuing the conversation, enhancing my oddball image.
I know, people ask that question hoping I've found some secret Shangri-La they can go to. Sorry, not yet. I've had some sublime moments now and then. Some bits of excitement and fun. But no mind-blowingly awesome paradise of endless bliss overload. But I'll let you know if I ever find it.