An Open Letter to George Clooney

I like cyclical events.  Routine is good.  Cycles help me to look forward, keep focused.  I like the Olympics, and now they come every two years, which is even better.  Cicadas, Nordstrom sales, and best of all, George Clooney break-ups.

George Clooney and his girlfriend,

No, wait, his girlfriend is THIS Keibler:

...have broken up.

George Clooney (sigh, doesn't he look fantastic in this photo?!?) and this gorgeous, tall drink of water are no longer an item.  I am taking this opportunity to let George know that I am (mostly) available.  

Missed Connection:  You:  were hosting a fundraising party for POTUS.  I:  failed to win the drawing for free invitation to the fundraising party you hosted for POTUS.  We were so close, and yet, too far.

So sorry to hear about your recent break up.  I am sure it is difficult to let some one special walk out of your life. 

I realize I have no information other than scuttlebutt and rumor, but I heard that you and Stacy had divergent viewpoints on having children.  I understand that you are not interested in having any.  I have two kids, but let me tell you, I absolutely promise you that I will not pester you for children.  (Peri-menopause makes that difficult anyway)  If you were interested in hanging out with me, I can assure you completely, that children would never be a part of our future.

As part of your emotional healing process, I'd like to point out to you the many advantages of seeing me.  First of all, let's be honest.  You're not getting any younger.  And while you are still looking all kinds of hot, that handsomeness is ephemeral.  Soon, you'll be looking like your friend, Brad, in that Benjamin Button fiasco.  And then what 24 year old super model is going to want to date you?  That's right.  Deep pockets only outweigh deep crow's feet to a certain point.  And then, what?  I will be there.  My appreciation for you is beyond skin deep, it's forever deep.  (Actually, not true.  My adoration of you is exactly as deep as your epidermis.)  But then again, I have far fewer prospects than your ex.
Another point in my favor is the wisdom of my years.  I'm not a young tart boasting perky breasts and peppy attitude.  I'm a seasoned woman.  I'm the real deal.  I can be your muse as you study for some unnamed role for the as yet unmade Roman Holiday remake.  Only you'd be the prince and I'd be the random tourist who finds your stunning self and woos you. 
Also, I probably clean up okay and would look good in a very sensible Judi Dench-sleeved ensemble on the red carpet.  People would admire you for dating some one who is "unconventionally beautiful"  (read:  not supermodel young, beautiful, or thin.)  Think of the positive publicity for you.  People would call you deep, and applaud your effort to find a "real" relationship with "meaning."  Only you and I would need to know that it was all about the hot sex.
Conveniently, my dog is already named after you.  He and I would seamlessly transition into your life.  Italy is lovely this time of year and I pack very light.  I would be happy to help you air out the villa and welcome in the gorgeous summer breeze in Lake Como.  I have no desire to live in the hubbub in LA, either.  We could retreat to the beauty of the Italian countryside and read literature (I know this guy with a great new novel.  He's a TOTAL stranger, by the way.)

I will be happy to buy a Rosetta Stone Italian Edition so I can help you buy wine and prosciutto and crusty bread for our romantic picnics on the lake.  See?  I want to be your help mate. No pressure, though.
I hear from reliable sources that you are a merry prankster.  I LOVE merry prankstering.  We could have Angie and Brad over and then hire 25 child actors to mix up with their kids.  We could make the loving parents find their own kids in the sea of children a la Pin the Tail on the Donkey.  We could write on Brad's forehead in glow in the dark pen.  Or put his hair in a ponytail when Angie isn't looking.  I'm game for all kinds of fun!
Anyway, George, just think of the possibilities.  There are a couple of glitches standing between you and me (namely my husband and children) but those obstacles, and the distance between my humble life in Alabama (yes, that part is true, but I promise it's not what you think: I'm not from here--ask anyone) and your Hollywood life is smaller than you think.
So, consider it.  I can be the shoulder you cry on.  I'm even willing to be your transition woman.  Just remember, I will not be the woman who wants to trap you, marry you, beg for kids.  I will be the fun-loving partner you desire.  Really.
By the way, I asked my husband if you were too old for me and he assured me that you aren't.  He suggested that I may be too old for YOU, but I assured him I'm not.
Well, I hope you are doing well.  Looking forward to that Astronaut movie with Sandra Bullock (I hope it's better than that fiasco with the overrated Melissa McCarthy.) 
Thanks for your time,
Sincerely
JP