SWF ISO John Cusack?

Dating is hard. Not only because of the delicate tango moves that comprise dating in it of itself but also because finding a partner to dance the first dance with is exhausting. Once you have a partner, the rest falls into place. Your place, his place, a public place or no place because you realize that you have nothing in common. But before you get to go to or through all those places you need to find a date. Or in my case a man.
This train of thought began to make a home in my mind about a week ago as I sat in Starbucks drinking my sorrows away in a grande, no vanilla, hot chocolate, extra whip please. As I tried to come to grips with my last single friends looming marriage I turned my warm cup around in my hands to see what words of wisdom Starbucks had printed on it's 10% post recycled consumer waste paper coffee cup this week. I can't quote exactly what was written but the jist of it entailed believing in yourself, despite others telling you that you are not good enough. The part that struck me right in the breast plate was the phrase, "Ask anyone out!". "Right On!" was my initial mental response. Followed shortly by, "Really? Anyone?" I mean this "As I See It" quote was really telling me to believe in myself so much that I dare to have the confidence to ask anyone out and stare down possible rejection in the face. It was telling me to believe that I am good enough for absolutely anyone. And the truth is the wisdom is right. I am good enough for anyone. But is anyone good enough for me?
A few days later I found myself talking to a friend about our "laminated lists". You know those lists of secret crushes that we never admit to having. The list of, in my case, men that I would date in a heartbeat if only they would appear and ask me out. As my friend and I examined our lists she noted that John Cusack had been on my list for about the last 19 years. She laughed and said, "My god, are you still in lust with Cusack?"
"Yes, alright. He's fantastic," and I quickly launched into the many accolades of John Cusack and why he, to this day, remains number one on my list.
As I am recapping my long love affair with John to my friend, the Starbucks message from a few days before begins to play in the background of my mind, like the subtle, eerie music of a dramatic film. And it is then, in that moment, that I decide to end my 19 year love affair with John.
"What if I ask John Cusack out?", I ask my friend.
After her laughter abates enough for her to breathe and talk at the same time she says, "You're nuts. I mean you're really nuts. For starters, John doesn't know you exist and two, how would you go about finding him?"
"I don't know", I say, "Maybe I can call him? Do you think I can dial 411 and ask for John Cusack?"
My friend just gives me a sad look.
"Kidding, I was just kidding. Seriously though, why not? My Starbucks coffee cup said I should ask anyone out and that is precisely what I aim to do. John Cusack is just a man. So he happens to make films for a living. I happen to be a park ranger and it is only society that seems to deem one more glamorous, more untouchable than the other. John has dated many beautiful women, but they all have one thing in common. They were all famous and actresses/models. And since he is still single, I wager to say that dating that type of woman hasn't worked out so well for John. Maybe what he really needs is a beautiful, intelligent, ordinary park ranger that likes to get dirty in the outdoors. Maybe what John needs is ME?"
My friend just sighs, but she knows that I mean business.
"OK", she says, "How are we going to do this? It's not like you can just call him up?"
"I know. And the truth is I don't know how to ask John Cusack out. I can't call him as I'm sure he has a posse of people that screen for psychos and stalkers and I'm sure they will think I am one of them. I can't exactly write him a letter as I'm sure his "fan mail" is read and screened too. I doubt he has a public email address and I don't think I can poke him on Facebook."
"Well, my friend says, I'm sure you can poke him but I'm not sure you want Facebook to know about it."
I laugh at that as we continue to brainstorm.
What we came up with is this. A "Desperately Seeking Susan" type personal slash I SAW YOU ad for John Cusack to be posted on my blog site, my face book account and ultimately circulating around the world wide web until somehow, someone who works for or knows John will have him read this ad and my blogsite. So here goes and please feel free to cut and paste and send to friends to forward until John sees it:

SWF ISO John Cusack
Attractive, funny, articulate and witty female wants to take you, John Cusack, out on the funniest date of your life. We'll feed animals at the zoo, jump in the aquarium tank, play bocci ball with old men and ride the ferris wheel till we die of laughter. Anything is up for grabs. Is this crazy? Yes but every remarkable event begins with a crazy idea and ends with a courageous lunatic! And I'm just daring enough to stare down my inner critic and societial rationality and ask you John Cusack if you'd like to go out on a date with an extra-ordinary park ranger type girl that usually has dirt under her nails, travels the world, writes and tell amazing stories and is just funny as heck. If this finds its way to you John, you'll know how to find me. I'm the third house from the end in case your GPS unit quits out on the way to Rainier. Hope to see you. Annie

Have You Seen My Teeth?

It's not hard to know when you've been on a bad date. And most people that I have spoken too can pinpoint the exact moment in a date when things went very awry. Having recently reexamined my dating history I found that for me, the worst date I've ever been on actually began the morning after the date.

My date was Sky. The tall, handsome, JCREW model type, who spoke two languages and was entering the foreign service. We went out for drinks and ended up closing the bar. Since we were both too drunk to drive and since he lived well out of town, I had no choice but to take him back to my place. We made out. It was nice. It was very nice in fact. I remember Sky saying he was hungry at some point and he got up to make some food in my kitchen. I wasn't hungry at all and told him that I was going to sleep and that he had sofa duty. He laughed and said he understood and that he would be very quite while making some food. I kissed him good night not knowing that would be the last time I would ever kiss Sky.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of rummaging. I dragged my alcohol leadened limbs out of bed and into the living room where I found Sky frantically searching the living room.

"What's going on?", I asked.

"I'm just looking for my things", he said, the sound of underlying fear sneaking through his otherwise calm voice.

"Need some help?", I offered.

"Ugh, no, it's OK. I'll find them."

"No seriously, what are you looking for? Maybe I know where we set them last night?"

"No really I'll find them."

"OK, I said," as I stumbled into the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth and let the hot water of the shower slowly wake me up. I hadn't drank that much in a long time and I was feeling the first hint of a hang over. Which for me translates into still being drunk. I state this fact, that of still being drunk, in order to honor the fact that many who read what is to follow will think that I am lying. The truth is that drunk or sober, I could never make THIS up.

I emerge from the bathroom, turban wrapped around my head, warm towel wrapped around me only to find Sky still searching the apartment with an increasing sense of urgency and panic. I approach him cautiously, as at this point I'm sure things are not going as well as I had thought they were. My gut told me that something bad was about to happen.

"Sky?", I ask hesitantly.

No response.

"Sky?", I ask again, louder this time.

No response.

"Sky?" I yell this time while grabbing his arm. "What is wrong?"

And without hesitation, my JCREW man looks me in the eye and says, "Babe, I can't seem to find my teeth."

"Come again?", I stammer.

"Ugh, have you seen my teeth?" he asks sheepishly.

"What do you mean your teeth?"

"Well, I mean teeth, you know those things in your mouth used to chew food. Things that you brush twice a day. You know TEETH!", he says, panic practically shaking the words out of him.

I didn't know what to say. I just stood there in disbelief.

"Well, what exactly am I looking for? I mean I didn't know your teeth weren't real."

With a sigh and a bit of calming he said, "I have a partial plate and I am missing my front four teeth."

He then opens his mouth in a weak smile and shows me the place where his top four front teeth should be. Here is my date, my model good looks man smiling at me with no front teeth. And I lose it. I just started to laugh really, really loud. I doubled over with laughter and tears began to rush down my face. Sky just stood there looking at me while I laughed. I tried to tell him that I was sorry and didn't mean to laugh and that I would gladly help him locate his mystery teeth but he wasn't amused. He just looked at me and firmly stated,

"I need my teeth and I'm not leaving without them."

I laugh even harder at the idea of him walking the three miles home toothless.

"OK, so when did you last have your teeth? Do you remember where you last saw them? Can you describe them?" I ask these in mock police investigative tone.

"Forget you," he states and walks away.

"Sky," I plead. "Come on, this is funny. I mean this is seriously funny."

He doesn't answer, just continues to search. After two hours of looking we still have no teeth. All I have to go on is that the night before, after I went to bed, he made a burrito and had his teeth then. He hadn't recalled seeing them sense. He thought he had taken them out before bed, like he usually does, but he was really drunk and couldn't remember. I wanted to ask if he swallowed them, but I thought that would really push him over the edge.

"Well, we can't seem to find them", I say as I usher him towards the door. "I'll call you if they turn up." And with that I slam the door and double over with laughter. Long, hard, seemingly endless laughter. Sky knocks on the door, pleading with me to let him in to continue the search but all I do is laugh. I manage to yell that I'll have a good look around and I will call him. I hear his feet on the tile floor as he walks away.

Once I regained composure I did what any young, single woman would do after realizing her dates teeth are MIA in her home. I called all my friends and told them every single toothless detail.

A few hours later I find the teeth sitting in a glass of water on top of my refrigerator. They were hidden within the leaves of the large philodendren plant that sat atop my refrigerator. I pulled the teeth and began to take a careful look. As I looked on I became angry. Angry at the teeth that brought a quick end to a possible blooming relationship. "Damn teeth," I whispered as I set them down on the coffee table and picked up the phone.

The call was quick. I figured the realtionship was over so why bother holding back on the humor of the moment. I mean it's not everyday I had the opportunity to call someone to tell them that I found their teeth in my house so I planned to make the most of it. When Sky picked up the phone I simply yelled, "I found your teeth!"
He did not find that funny although relief did flood his voice. In a quick, diplomatic manner we set a time for the exchange. He acted as though I was holding them for ransom. I didn't want his teeth. I didn't want him either. I wanted the guy I went out the night before. The one that was fun up until the moment the teeth came out.

About an hour later I found myself standing on Sky's doorstep holding a clear, crystal, juice glass full of teeth and water. As I handed him the glass of teeth I couldn't help but laugh. Just thinking of me carrying a juice glass of teeth out of my apartment building and placing it in the cup holder in my car and then walking the block to Sky's place was just too much to bare. As I laughed Sky just stood there. "It's not funny", he demanded.

"Yeah it is", I chuckled.

And with that I walked away.

I can't say that Dear Abbey or Miss Manners would be proud of how I handled the situation, but then again I doubt those two classy ladies ever had to deal with such a situation. So all in all, I think I did a pretty good job. Besides what do you say to the man who lost his teeth in your house?

"Keep It Real?"