Sunday 22 January 2012: Every woman needs a Brian or two.
I confess. I have a crush on Professor Brian Cox. I cannot resist his soft lips, when he is standing on a rock somewhere, against the sunset, looking into my eyes and whispering sweet nothings about the Doppler shift. Doesn't everyone?
But then I am prone to a bit of a crush.
I spent hours of my youth adoring the local band who practised in the nearby garage.
I fell in love with Robert Redford (yes, I am of the older generation) after seeing Out of Africa. It got a bit ruined when I discovered that he is the same age as my father, nevertheless every time I am rinsing my hair, I am there, I am Meryl Streep with my lock falling down my shoulders and he is pouring the water...
I get misty eyed when Biffy strums his guitar (he has recently replaced David Grohl in the world of my imagination) and would forgive him all the tattoos in the world.
And only on Friday whilst attending a yoga class I instantly fell for the new yoga teacher who sang through the poses and chanted away, lifting my spirits to levels no man has ever lifted me before. But than I not diddy.
I have owned up now. I feel exposed, my soul naked, I have thrown myself on your mercy. Will you join me with your confessions or leave me standing there alone, burning?