No. I don't have a type.

In the space of a year I have been attracted to an large number of men.  There's nobody in particular that has the focus of my attention at this point in time, however it needs to be said that I probably find myself attracted to new men every day.

When I say attracted, I am not signing my life away or anything.  I mean, there may not even be any actual interaction with that individual.

What is interesting is the variety.

Sometimes even I am flabbergasted by what catches my eye.  Whilst my friends will tell you I'm a sucker for a hot nerd, I submit that I do not, and will never have, a type.

As proof I offer the following list of people to whom I have found myself (strangely at times) attracted.  It is quite possible that my gentlemen readers might indeed find themselves on this list.  If you do recognise yourself, please don't be scared.  The attraction may very well have been fleeting.  I may never have intended to act on it.  I am fully aware of your unavailability and make no attempt at securing your affection.  I ask that you merely accept it for what it is:  A nod of appreciation.

So here goes.  In no particular order, over the past year I have found myself attracted to:

* A director of a play I was in.  I liked that he taught me something new.  I was also a little scared of him and that is a rare thing for me.  He was probably one of the more charismatic people I've met lately.

* A guy who plays guitar and several other instruments and is one of the most quirky, odd guys I've met.  He gives off this vibe of intense nonchalance which I find engaging if at times bizarre and hard to read.  He falls into the Talent Hot category which my friend and I have discussed at length.

* A tradesman.  Actually, several tradesmen.  There is something undeniably sexy about men who are useful with tools.  They are generally good with their hands and extremely masculine.  A special nod of thanks to whomever invented the Bonds wife-beater.

* A DILF from school.  Actually, several DILFs from school.  See previous post for further explanation.

* The guy who is renovating the flat next door to mine.  He isn't Swedish but I pretend he is.  He wears overalls and cleans his paintbrushes outside my bedroom window.  He has one of the best asses I've seen in a long time.  He also has about five degrees.  Handy and clever.

* Craig Silvey.  The guy who wrote Jasper Jones.  I don't even know what he looks like but this was my favourite book of the year and whoever was genius enough to pen this book already has my heart.

* A Kiwi lawyer/surfer who I went out with on what I thought was a great date. He was irreverent and took the piss out of me on one or two occasions.  I like a bit of that.  He never called and therefore was "Not that into me".

* A small Scottish lad with a broken heart.  A very complicated situation.  Heh heh.

* A smart guy living in a shitty part of Sydney, who is clever but pretends not to be.  He lifts weights and has a lot of silver chains happening.  A total shocker.

* A friend's boyfriend's wayward but very funny brother.  Possibly the biggest smart arse I've met.  Smart and a car crash at the same time.  A wasted mind.

* A guy who I met a few years ago and haven't seen since.  He moved to Melbourne and his wife is having their first baby.  He is just lovely in every way.  He's attractive because he never pretends to be anything but exactly who he is.  His Lego obsession is slightly odd though.  I follow him on Facebook and Twitter and he always makes me laugh.  When I understand what he is saying, that is.

* Christina Hendricks.  Ok, so she's not a bloke.  But she is just so beautiful.

So You tell me. Is there a pattern?  I can't see one.