At the risk of sounding conceited – because I’m really, really not – I swear, but I just gotta say…

If Renee Zellweger could tap Bradley Cooper, then most certainly I have a pretty good chance. I mean okay, so she’s a glamorous academy award winning actress with a wildly interesting life and I’m a boring soccer mom with two kids, a husband, and a mortgage on a perfectly average tract home…but, but Renee Zellweger?  I mean she’s cute, but so am I. And okay, she’s like a size 0 and I’m a size 8 but I’m also at least four inches taller than her. (The way I choose to look at it is I’m an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10 and she’s a 0! What? Different kind of scale? Damn!)

And she might be teeny-tiny skinny, but I saw a picture of her with my future boyfriend Bradley in Spain eating breakfast and she was eating a big bowl of watermelon. For breakfast. Now I’ve certainly eaten watermelon with breakfast, but never for breakfast. I’ll tell you what if I was vacationing in Spain and was having breakfast at a cute little outdoor cafe I’d be one cranky bitch all day if I only had watermelon for breakfast! (It’s my personal theory that all extremely skinny women are cranky. It may not be true, but it’s how I rationalize things and make myself feel better about my thighs. But I am willing to bet that Renee was much happier in general when she was filming the Bridget Jones movies.)

And another thing - my husband says that he wouldn’t have sex with her and he has sex with me all the time. (Well, not exactly all the time I mean we have been together for 20 years and do have those kids and that mortgage that for whatever reason –oh yeah, stress coupled with exhaustion- seems to put a damper on both of our sex drives, but you know what I mean! We could have sex all the time. If we wanted to.)

All I’m saying is if Bradley can hang out with a 40-year-old cute actress for a couple of months, why not a 44-year-old cute mom? Look, I don’t even require a couple of months. I actually like my husband and kids. (You know, most days!) I’m just looking for a long weekend. (The kind that starts on Wednesday and ends the following Monday or Tuesday.) He doesn’t even have to be seen in public with me. I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin his rep as a Hot Hollywood Stud. I’d sacrifice the lack of paparazzi attention. We can just stay in a 5-star hotel with 1,000 thread count sheets the whole time. I wouldn’t even require maid service. Room service however, would be a must. (Hold the watermelon!)