Tonight I was at pub quiz with Christchurch-man‘s brother. They are so alike it reminded me of Christchurch-man and what a great guy he is. It made me re-think my whole idea of men. I haven’t met anyone like him. It made me realise how much he really is my “type”. I know we’re not supposed to have “types”! But I’m sorry, I do! He’s the only man I’ve met that I have instantly thought; “wow! he’s perfect!“.
He’s back in Christchurch now and has a girlfriend. Slight technical issues. Apparently I have come up in conversation a few times with his brother; and what would they really have to chat about me? No I’m not going to pine over him. I’m just not going to forget about him. He’s up in September for his brother’s birthday ‘do – which I am now invited to. Two weeks to be looking A-MA-ZING! Don’t you go thinking I’m going to be making any moves! I’m not that kind of girl. But I can look great for the event, can’t I?
He is said to be moving to Auckland next year. If it happens it happens, and if not I’ll – a) meet someone just as fantastic – because there has to be more out there! or b) wind up an old spinster with 12 cats – which would seriously suck because I detest cats.
We’re not supposed to have types? Man, I am in a crap-load of trouble then…I’m a little too committed now to get out of it
I’m just kidding.
Take a leaf out of my book and get 12 guinea pigs instead.
Oh, and as for ‘types’. My type is tall (6ft +), muscly, shaven headed, blue-eyed and tattooed. Kiwi is about 5″9, black curly hair, really dark eyes, no tattoos… so much for ‘types’! But since meeting him I’ve started to appreciate men with a more exotic look
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