Old Hollywood Delusional Wednesday

For the purpose of making my personal world a better place, I've decided that Beloved Spouse and I are Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell.


I'm on the right.

I know they weren't ever a couple off-screen, but we all know what being a couple can do for romance, am I right? Romance leads to marriage and bills and arguments over candy bars. Not that I don't love and adore BelSpouse with all my heart, but how much easier life would be some days if there were a director to yell "Cut!" when a scene wasn't working.

But first I'd look up at him and murmur,
"You have such handsome nose hair."

I'll be the first to admit that in real life we're not much like Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell.


BelSpouse doesn't drink coffee, and I would never
leave an iron laying flat on the board like that.

But since this is my fantasy, it doesn't matter that the real Bob Mitchum had great hair and sexy bedroom eyes, whereas BelSpouse has little hair and his eyes are simply cute. Just as it's irrelevant that Ms. Russell was sultry and statuesque instead of a squat little hamster like yours truly. Not that hamsters aren't adorable.


But have you ever heard one sing "One for My Baby"?

Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell made two movies together - His Kind of Woman and Macao - where they had all kinds of killer chemistry and looked fabulous. Who could ask for anything more in a relationship based on make-believe? And since I don't think either of us would kick the other's avatar out of bed for eating crackers, we make a perfect imaginary couple.


Besides, we would totally look like this
if it weren't for those meddling genetics.

Let's face it, we all have days when we wish the camera crew would come out already and tell us we're being pranked. So when I'm experiencing a series of WTF moments masquerading as my actual life, I just think it would be nice to close my eyes and imagine being a sex symbol and coming home to Robert Mitchum. 


"Champagne and caviar for dinner again? Why not?"

And we could smoke really good weed and have amazing sex and always be perfectly lit and never get our hair mussed up or be interrupted by the cats puking or the Jehovah's Witnesses ringing the doorbell. Sweet. All it takes is imagination and a little dissociative identity disorder. And I know BelSpouse has plenty of imagination.

So if you'll excuse me, I - the lovely and glamorous Jane Russell - will leave you here. I have a date with Robert Mitchum. And I need to hurry - I think my 18-Hour Bra is about to expire.