I really like wine. The dryer the better. The more chilled the better. The larger amounts, …you get the gist. Do you know what wine really helps with? All the whining. True story. I like to wine so I don’t whine.
I think I end up whining frequently anyway – which is exactly what I try to avoid on my blog – none of us are here for a bitch fest. So in the interest of ending the whining and increasing the wining, I’m thinking of starting a weekly WINE post, in which I drink wine and talk about GOOD things that are good and wonderful and happy. And I’m starting today.
I’m sitting here with my indecently filled glass of wine and musing. I just had a conversation with a man-friend of mine. A bunch of us were sitting around the room chatting and some of us were drinking and just generally having a good time. Someone made a butt joke and amid the laughter, we broke off into our own conversation. He half jokingly commented that he’s definitely a “butt guy” and from there we started talking about those striking things we notice about people that sends our brain from the initial “ho hum they’re not bad looking” to all-thoughts-have-temporarily-stopped-because-I’m-noticing-something-I’m-attracted-to mode.
He mentioned butts. And legs. And smiles. I mentioned hands and shoulder blades and smiles. He latched onto the hands thing. He thought that was weird. Now, it’s not like I have a hand fetish or something, I just notice hands. What do I like about men’s hands? When they’re strong. When they give good handshakes. When they’ve gone a bit calloused and tough. When they’re large. I like clean hands of course, but men’s manicured hands… nah.
My friend still thought this a bit weird. He showed me his hands and asked me what I thought. He really wanted to know my full assessment. I only glanced (because I already knew) and I told him his hands were nice. He wasn’t satisfied though – he took my hand and put his hand in it and says “come on. Feel my hand. Really. I want to know what you think!” I’m not in the habit of holding hands with people who I don’t have more going on with, but I went with it. He has good hands. I broke it down for him: strong, firm, rough enough, neat enough, twice the size of mine. Good.
He seemed pleased. Funny how such a small thing can make someone so happy – something I normally wouldn’t think twice about.
Attraction is a funny thing. Some people would be obsessed with things I wouldn’t notice, even as I’m drawn to things others mightn’t notice. I don’t care about how buff a guy is. I don’t care about someone’s weight or sense of style. I guess these things are fairly normal. I’m that person who notices hands. I don’t know why.
And shoulder blades. That’s not all about muscularity, I just like the way people’s shoulders move. I mean, whether they’ve got a shirt on or not. (It’s hard not to stare sometimes! I mean a guy lifting something heavy…)
And smiles – there’s something about a nice set of teeth and friendly lips. That’s pretty unromanticized, I know, but’s about how it shakes down. Throw in some joy and that’s what makes for a memorable smile.
Okay, upon reflection any of my men-readers might not see this post as being about “things that are good and wonderful and happy” as I initially promised, but perhaps some of my lady-readers know what I mean. This is today’s dose of good and wonderful and happy. These are joyful things, yes? Being attracted to something means it has beauty, or at least it used to. So my joyfulness is here, growing in proportion to wine consumed.
Alright, I’m done with my silly musings for now. Although, not so finished with my wine…
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