At last night's book club dinner, the subject turned to celebrity crushes. Or to be more specific, "Who would you dump your husband for?" I'm not sure what this says about me, but I answered first: "Hugh Jackman. Hands down." (Honey, if you're reading this, it was the cocktails talking! Ha ha ha ha ha ha.)
My husband has a good sense of humor, and we got this issue out of the way fairly early in our relationship. Our current agreement that if Thandie Newton comes looking for him, well, no hard feelings. We had a good run. Drop a postcard every now and then.
Hugh is my Thandie Newton, and I don't care that he starred in "Van Helsing" and "Swordfish." A straight male friend of mine even once admitted, "That's a good-looking dude." He sings. He dances. He is Australian. He is almost always described as a genuinely nice person, and he has love for the geeks (See: Wolverine).
So when the epic "Australia" opens, I will be front and center like a 9-year-old at a Miley Cyrus autograph signing. I cannot believe Nicole Kidman got paid for this.
