I'm waiting to fall in love- Not desperately and not anxiously, not even patiently. Just simply waiting. I'm not one of those girls that is constantly whining about, whats wrong with guys in San Francisco, blah blah blah. I just join the dating frenzy and I have fun. I go out with guys, I make out, I have fun times in the park, fancy dinners out, trips to the museums, day trips to the country and it's all ridiculously cute and fun.
But of course the goal is to find a bestfriend, at the risk of sounding like hippie, a soul mate. Someone to hang with in pj's on Sundays, someone to run through fields with, someone to drive me home if I get to tipsy, someone to travel the world with, someone who is an adventure junkie like me. A guy who is fearless and ferociously smart. Someone who I will wake up next to and feel at home.
He will be tall and lovely, altruistic but motivated. He will think I'm at my most beautiful when I'm simple. He will see through all my silly girlie glamour and know that I'm just a small town country girl. He will take me on picnics and tickle me till I scream.
I have always imagined I would settle down with a European. I mean what girl doesn't have a crush on a cute Brit with a crooked smile or a dashing dark skinned Italian with thick hair and a smooth line? Who doesn't like to be called bella or bird?
So off to Europe I go at the end of the month first time in almost forever. In my dreams my nights will be filled with long walks down windy cobblestone alleys in ridiculously high heels, late night dinners fueled by too much red wine, even later night dance parties wearing only underwear (this may have happened in Italy already), and some serious flirting with cuties from oversea. Who knows, maybe I will never come home.