Another day another obsession.

Okay, maybe not really.

Well, I'm lying.

Really.

I don't want it. I'd like to say I tried to fight it but I didn't. Like, even a little I didn't.

But as embarassing as my little obsessions usually are this one is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY up high on the list. This one might be most embarassing.

As in, I'd rather talk about how I stayed up until 4Am because David Spade was on some talk show. (I honesly have no idea who the host was so focused was I on Spade's hotness couched in sarcasm.)

This's pretty high on the embarassment richter scale is all I'm trying to say.

They say knowing you have a problem is the first step to solving it but I've just not yet found that to be true.

I understand that this knew soon to be obsession (oh it's not there yet but I can always feel them when they're coming on like pimples or a cold, you're helpless against it and the best you can hope for is a few days off in bed).

I guess I could stop watching the types of shows that bring this out in me but honestly then I'd be forced to go out and run the streets at night.

Like last night.

Oh but we're SO not ready to talk about what I did last night yet. I'll just say this, I wasn't alone and who I was with would probably surprise you greatly if you've been paying any sort of attention at all.

Still my vcr works and having been out running around even briefly didn't stop me from catching the show that each season feeds me a less and less appropraite crush.

That's right, Dancing with the Stars is back and the crush of the season is...

Who knew?

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