Okay, they say that the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem.
(deep breath)So here I go-
My name is Michelle. And I'm addicted to young British boys. There, I said it. Now you know. It's not that I've ever met a British boy in person, ( Phoenix, Arizona apparently is not on the top of the list of vacationing spots for British families).
No, my fascination is enjoyed from afar.
It all started when Price William grew out of his teenage awkward stage. He stopped looking like a little kid from "Oliver Twist" and started looking like, well, a prince! I was able to suppress my addition for a while and even felt for a moment that I was on the road to recovery. And then they cast the lead part of the first Harry Potter movie to Daniel Radcliffe and I became a full fledged addict!
Something in that accent that just drives me nuts. My hubby refuses to take me to Europe for fear I might confess my undying love to every British male on the plane.
Jamie Oliver, Jamie Cullum. Oh, to be young with enough money to catch a plane to Europe.
Well, compared to most vises, mine is pretty tame. No one is being hurt by my obsession (except for the few occasions when I pounce on my husband after hearing him speak in a British accent), and my bank account is in no way affected by my daily needed fixes. (Twilight wallpaper anyone?)
Harmless, yet incredibly satisfying, this is an addiction I don't mind not recovering from.
0 comments:
Post a Comment