Marrying George Clooney

i couldn’t help but notice.

we were at a dinner party last night, and i couldn’t help but notice how stunning the women looked. i often check out all the women at parties, full disclosure, i often check out women in grocery stores, at the bus stop. i happen to love women. i am a woman’s woman. i admire all these amazingly perfectly exquisite creatures, these gorgeous humans that walk this earth, as vibrant powerful beings that oh yes make a difference – A MAJOR FUCKING HUGE DIFFERENCE every single day that we breathe. i love women. no doubt. last night as i stood & stared in awe at the beauty in this one room this is what i saw:
i saw women wearing not a stitch of make-up looking ravishing, i saw women dressed to the nines wearing one piece of jewelry that took your breath away, i saw women wearing high heels that made their legs look long & lean and muscular, i saw women wearing white on white and looking angelic, i saw women wearing black with opera length pearls looking like goddesses, i saw women wearing tailored slacks and tailored shirts looking sexy & content.
but the thing i noticed last night, which i hadn’t noticed at first blush, aside from the fashionista moments, i noticed that most of all these women we wearing gorgeous smiles.

and tucked in a corner, his eyes dancing with delight, his white shirt crisp, his hair short & sexy, his eyes bluer than blue… a glass of red firmly planted in his hand, stood my guy. my ken.
he was watching me watching them.
i walked up to him and he said, and i quote:

nothing like a room filled with joy.

and then i stood with ken, sipping my white wine, twirling my pearls, and for the first time all evening… i noticed all men in the room who were either husbands, or partners, or friends.

but no george.

this was after all a grown up party.
no one was carded.