Yours truly has reverted back to her teenage self and developed a crush. Thankfully the object of my affection is a hunka hunka who lives oop North so I am not faced with the ball aching embarrassment of having to interact with him daily, but he's on my mind ALL. THE. TIME.
If you've had a crush before you'll know that a lot of the time is spent daydreaming about getting lip to lip, tongue to tongue and perhaps nudie bits to nudie bits. I've been spending a lot of time daydreaming but not about kissing him, no, the thought that keeps occupying my head is:
"Man alive I REALLY want to lick his teeth"
WTactualF?! Yes he owns a pair of perfect pearly white gnashers but I'm pretty sure that wanting to lick them makes me totally certifiable. Even more than normal. I hate having a crush because it makes me feel pathetic, I feel like I should be able to control all this shizz because as someone with a startling lack of self esteem, none of the crushes will ever amount to anything more than a crush because I'd manage to sabotage it even IF someone decided they liked me back. Cheery huh?!
I'm at home on the sofa blogging from under a blanket where I'm bogged down with coldy fluey lurg but yes, still thinking about those damned teeth. I've bought two tickets to a posh charity ball in March to keep me in gear on the diet and exercise plan as the fear of fitting in to a ball gown and not finding a man to accompany me will hopefully drive me towards the gym and away from the cake shop. So, the hunt is on – I need a tall (6'2" plus) man who can rock a dinner jacket. Let me know if you uncover any?! Maybe I'll make a business card to pass out…
My article '8 Reasons I miss being fat' that was published in GLAMOUR magazine's September issue, is going international! In January 2011, readers in South Africa will be able to see it in their GLAMOUR issue, how cool?!