I am so glad you are here today because you are in for a major treat. I have the esteemed pleasure of having the very talented and witty Sherry Isaac in the kasbah today. She writes tales of life, love and forgiveness that transcend all things, including the grave and is the author of the short story collection Storyteller, The Forgetting (Alice Munro Short Story Award 2009), and the paranormal romance novel, The Homecoming (HODRW 2011 Unsinkable Molly/GWA MAGGIE 2011 Honourable Mention).
She’s here today to spill the beans on a little secret of hers. And then, as if that weren’t enough awesome goings-on for one day, I have the privilege of hanging out at her blog, the fabulously named Psychological Sizzle, to talk about some of the amazing and inspiring women I’ve met on my recent travels. I hope you’ll come visit me there after reading the somewhat salacious and juicy secret Sherry reveals here.
So, without further ado, I’ll turn the kasbah over to Sherry:
I convey much on my blog, and yet, I have a secret. A little piece of my heart belongs to John Cusack.
Yes, there are the charms of the prime time actors that flicker across my television screen. Shemar Moore and his easy, sexy charm. Simon Baker with his I-know-what-you-look-like-nekked grin.
Enter, my Hollywood Hunk-a-rooski, John Cusack. To me, John Cusack is everything a leading man should be: Tall, dark, mysterious, drop-dead adorable.
Nobody wears a trench coat like John Cusack. No one dips his head as he leans into a contemplative line like John Cusack. No one blinks away stage rain like John Cusack.
But more than that, John Cusack looks amazingly kissable. Those lips, that pout, that pucker. Oh, yeah.
So many of his films are favorites. 1408. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Identity.
That’s right. This man knows how to make my psychology sizzle.
There is a certain deliberation in John’s characterizations that I find so adorable, so seductive, so…
Vulnerability resides in the V of John’s upper lip. Concentration rolls across his brow. Let me tell you something:
Sweet and smart is so damn sexy.
I think I’ve made it pretty clear what I lust over love about John, but have I the attributes that would bring him to his knees as he has done to me film after blockbuster film? Might I possess what could pass for Cusack Quality?
As luck would have it, John has made a list. In anticipation of this post?
Let’s see what John has to say about me his dream woman…
I have a sense of humor, a belly-busting sense of humor, and have been known to laugh unabashedly on many occasion. I’ve spat out tea, I’ve fallen out of chairs, I’ve piddled my pants.
Yes, my laughter has, you guessed it, not only involved many parts of my body, but also bodily functions.
Ah, a snort from the nose, another part of the body. The magic continues.
I think we can safely say the phrases ‘a woman has character’ and ‘a woman is a character’ are interchangeable.
As for loyalty, well, I’ve been using the same brand of toilet paper for I don’t know how many years. I kid you not. I don’t know how many years I’ve been using that brand.
There is that pesky little detail about not taking things out on another when having a bad day, but I’d never take my bad mood out on John. How could I, when those eyes, dark and liquid as melted fudge, make me forget my name?
If I can’t remember my name, how can I remember being cranky? If I can’t remember that I’m cranky, why would I act out?
Let me tell you, if there is one thing I know how to do well, it’s how to smell. No one can smell like I can smell. Especially after a work out.
I also have an abundance of good taste, another desirable trait hinted at in this section of John’s list, and my taste tells me everything’s better with a sploosh of red wine, including mood. (See character, above.)
Digging deeper into this particular item on John’s list, let it hereby and forever be known that I don’t understand chemistry either. Chemistry is a nightmare come to life, a union of math and science. Math and science make my head hurt.
Let’s all pretend for a moment that careless and mindless mean the same thing. Some days, I will do anything to avoid working on my manuscript. Most often, the mysterious ‘anything’ takes shape as careless, mindless walks through my house.
You want careless, John? I’ll give you careless. I wander from room to room and don’t even carry a duster. Not only do I not care what I look like, I don’t care that the house is a mess, the toilets haven’t been scrubbed, the bed is unmade, or that the laundry is stacked higher than my head.
One time, I carelessly walked to the grocery store. Not only was my hair a mess and my shoelace untied, but I’d just come from a workout. (See smell, above.)
This one’s a no-brainer. Who doesn’t love a good foot rub at bed time? I may not be too crazy about math, but I do know how to count. I also know the definition of equal. Do I rub each of my feet an equal number of times?
I’d have to say no, but while not classic OCD as John so clearly desires, I am a little off my rocker.
Sometimes, this imbalance affects my ability to sleep. And then I rub my feet. The circle is complete.
The cosmos have spoken, I’ve got this one in spades. Just ask my husband…
And I was so close!
Raised by Nancy Drew & Miss Marple, Sherry Isaac weaves love, life and forgiveness into tales that transcend all things, including the grave.
You can subscribe to her blog: http://sherryisaac.com
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Thanks, Sherry, for hanging out in the kasbah and sharing your secret. John Cusack is a long-standing favorite of mine, too. Thanks, also, for making my adoration of Benedict seem almost normal. Well, almost.
Don’t forget to visit me over at Sherry’s blog, Psychological Sizzle, and while you’re there check out her other fabulous posts, too. I’m especially
freaked out by fond of her shiver-inducing series on haunted hotels.
So, lovely readers, does anyone else have a secret actor/actress love you have been hiding? What’s your favorite John Cusack movie? Do you meet John’s dream woman criteria? Have some tea and chat. We’d love to hear from you.