LOLLOL. Yes, I meant John Cusack and you’ll understand more when you read on.

So, R and I went to see the Ice Harvest with my exemption in our relationship, John Cusack in a starring role See me smile because I just love John. I always have and if I ever cheat on R, it will be with him and ONLY him. With R’s permission, of course. I have a 24 hour, get laid by John pass, courtesy of R.

R has one too. He used to want Shania, but since has changed his mind in favor of Jenny Mcarthy. She got herself a divorce and I think R has dreams of hitting Hollywood Blvd with her on his arm.

However, as of late, the tides have turned and I can’t quite say when that happened for sure, but I find they’re turning in R’s favor.

Huh.

Like I said, we saw Ice Harvest and we both were disappointed. R is soooo good about indulging my JC fantasies–he takes me to the movie I offer to go alone to.

The movie was a black comedy indeed and not much white to be had. It was not John’s best choice IMHO, though his performance was first rate. He just isn’t getting the kind of vehicles he needs to drive a baby home. I have NO clue who’s writing his dialogue, but it could use some snarking up. He’s the perfect bumbling, insecure, but genuinely deep, fall in love for life kind of guy. So why the hell doesn’t he pick a movie that does that for him?

He’s a great lead in any romantic comedy. So why doesn’t his dialogue reflect that? I can’t answer. I CAN tell you, I have my own JC fantasy.

But as of late, I’m finding it’s not as important, or nearly as much fun as it used to be. Ya know, in the days of wine and roses and BEFORE I met R. We’ll call the time period with which I was able to breathe without the support of him BR. Before R. ROFLMAO

Anyway, I’m finding as of late, as much as I love to oogle John, R’s image interfere’s? How can this be? JC sustained me through 19 years of marriage without a hitch. Hell, it was a good thing the ex and I didn’t call each other by our given names or I might have called out the wrong one…No, I’m kidding. I didn’t go quite that far. But JC was my MAN. DA MAN, in my mind.

So what the HELL?

Even the fantasy I have of JC and I, pressed together in a clinch against a wall, his big, tall body centered on my smaller one (I said it was a fantasy…) our breath mingling and his brown eyes capturing mine, has a glitch.

Fricken’ R.

This is what I mean–This is my fantasy about when JC and I meet for the first time. We’ve hung out and had a blast (cuz I’m fun that way) and now, we’re saying goodnight at the door of Castle Cassidy…

“I hear you have a thing for me.”

Dakota looks at John and blinks innocently while toying with his tie. “Define thing.”

“Ya know, like a thing-thing.”

“The only thing I can think of is the one that Mrs. Jones had with the guy she was cheating on her husband with. Ya know, in the song? Now, that, was a thing goin’ on.”

John looks at Dakota with quirky brown eyes and smirks. “So, what you’re saying is, no thing?”

“Okay, so like what kind of thing? There are lot’s of things to have for a person.”

“Well, you know. That kind of thing.”

“If you mean the kind of thing where I’d sell my children on E-bay for plane fare to move to fricken’ plastic hooter -ville where the sun always shines and ‘gag me with a spoon’ was once considered witty dinner conversation, happily give my soul freely to the guy who runs hell for just one night with you, thing? Then, okay. I might–might have a thing for you.” See Dakota smile coyly and bat Maybelline-double- coated eyelashes. Or, in essence, play dumb.

“Wow, that’s a thing-thing if I’ve ever heard of one. You’d give your soul for me?”

“Er, hmmm, okay, maybe soul giving was a bit hasty. But I’d definitely sell my kids.”

“But isn’t there some guy named R in all of this?”

That was the sound of John’s pin craftily inserted in my BIG FREAKIN’ BUBBLE. See Dakota’s eyes glaze over as she gnaws her bottom lip and even more furiously bats her eyelashes to hide her growing concern that R has become a PROBLEM. LOL. It’s sooo obvious John reads my blog. “Um, R? Oh, yeah, R. He’s going to fuck up my fantasy, isn’t he?”

“Well, all you do is talk about him…”

And poof, there goes my fantasy. Because well, it’s TRUE. I do talk about him a lot. LOLLOL I reference everything to him. “Oh, yeah, R and I were talking about that the other day. Oh, yeah, R said the funniest thing…” For crap’s sake already. I had a LIFE. I did. So did he.

There is no BR anymore. There’s just AR–After R.

I really noticed it at the movies the other night. When I should be slurping up drool with my popcorn over JC, I’m instead thinking about what a good kisser R is in a dark theater.

When you’re giving up your laid by the guy of your wildest fantasies for your boyfriend, I do believe it means trouble lurks in the hearts of womankind.

Does this go away?

Will I want JC again soon? Like want him more than R?

Is there a shot for this troubling addiction?

I think I need to watch tons of JC movies to cleanse my fantasy palette and then, we can resume life as I knew it.

BR.

BEFORE FREAKIN’ R!

LOLLOL

Dakota

That’s how Thanksgiving dinner went.

I’m proud to say my turkey was moist–my sons ate like humans, versus animals at a trough. R shared disgusting man/boy jokes with them and cracked on my gravy.

When I cook my gravy (for which I’m an EXPERT, dammit), I leave all of the goopy stuff in there, so it blends and seasons, then I thicken, chop up a wee bit of turkey and then, before adding, I strain the goopy stuff. R was very concerned it was goopy innards. So he cracked on it.

Sigh. There’s nothing like dealing with THREE children, ya know? LMAO

However, it was fab. See me stick my tongue out at him. LOL

Anyway, I actually had time to curl my hair all cute like in favor of rolling dough and churning homemade butter. It was WONDERFUL.

I’d highly recommend a turkey in a bag. I cooked mine in one of those Reynold’s bags and it was awesome.

Everything went off without a hitch. No one has botchelism (sp?) and for the most part, we hung out and just enjoyed each other’s company.

Next up is Xmas. My sons will be in Jersey this year, which kills me, but to soften the blow, R invited me to spend it with him and his family in MI.

7 days of nothing but R and I. I’m hoping we don’t have our first fight. LOLLOL. I vote we sleep all day and night while we’re there. I could use some rest.

I don’t have to cook Xmas dinner this year either. I feel a smidge lost. I need to peel a bazillion pounds of potatoes or I just don’t feel whole, ya know? LOL

Anyway, R says it usually snows in MI. Nearly every year, in fact. I’m SO happy I could weep.

I say–Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Dakota