Dear John Cusack, I love you. Love, me.

My Etsy store will be in vacation mode for the next few days (beginning tomorrow - Wednesday) while I transfer merchandise to a couple of local stores and put new inventory up. I have a lottalottalotta jewelry to make this evening and my head is not at all in blog mode so instead of fresh, new Lola...I give you vintage Lola. The top 20 list reminded me of this moment... from the days when I knew for sure that every woman should wear false eyelashes and that love was stupid (and I might have been just a teensy weensy bit bitter):

Diary excerpt, February 14, 2004 (3 months before I met James) - "I've finally figured it out... the reason my romantic life sucks is not my fault at all. It's my friends fault and the reason it's their fault is because none of them can dance. Everyone knows that all of the great love stories, at some point or another, have synchronized dance scenes. Love songs? Videos with synchronized dancing. Synchronized dancing is almost always the prelude to great declarations of love, everybody knows this. But, none of my friends have any real sense of rhythm so I can't see them getting it together enough to do a dance routine. Which means, I'm screwed. And it's all their fault because they're selfish and won't take dance lessons.

Oh yeah, and one other thing about why my romantic life sucks : because none of the guys that I date have figured out the monologue part. You know, the part where your heart gets broken and you tell them to stay out of your life forever...but they don't listen. Instead they track you down at the airport or your graduation or when you're getting married to somebody else...and they give that impassioned speech about what asses they were and how you, and only you, showed them what it was truly like to love. And how they're going to love you forever and ever if only you'd give them just one more chance...and they're all crying and stuff and you start crying and then you make out and everyone around you starts clapping and cheering and then you get BACKGROUND MUSIC! !!(the lack of background music in my life is another sore issue with me but I'm not in the mood right now) OR, if forgiveness just isn't possible, when he gives his speech and his eyes well up you can kick him in the nuts 'cause he won't be able to see you coming through his tears. Then you can go home where, if life actually worked the way it was SUPPOSED to, Lloyd Dobbler would be holding the boombox above his head and Jake Ryan would be there with your panties."


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Everything in this blog is copyright Jessica Benassi AKA Hey Lola except where I give credit to other people because obviously, that's their stuff. Don't steal my stuff. I mean, I'm not sure why you would want to, anyway, but if you're thinking about it...don't. Also, all of this nonsense is my opininion and is not supported or endorsed by Blogger or anyone ese. I mean, maybe it is, but if something I say just infuriates you, I take sole responsibility.

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