Obsessed. Strictly Speaking.

I have added yet another addiction to my list.

Joining the ranks of chocolate, Pepsi, Blogging and laminating is my current obsession, Strictly Come Dancing. (That'd be Dancing with the Stars for my US readers. Pretty much the same show even including Len & Bruno but much more traditional in format, you know us Brits we love tradition.)

I got slightly engrossed at the very end of Season 4 back in 2006.

I was an avid viewer of season 5 last year.

This year I admit I am a truly obsessed super fan.

Phew, feels so much better to say that out loud. Well in type anyhow. I watch the show on Saturday, I watch the result show on Sunday and every week day I watch the behind scenes show to see who is dancing what on Saturday and how they're getting along.

See I really wasn't exaggerating when I used the word addicted, was I?

Looking back to how this addiction may have started I can look back no further than my first ever viewing of Dirty Dancing, at the tender age of 11 I got to watch it at the cinema despite being 4 years too young for the age 15 certificate. Lucky for me the light of good fortune favoured me because my mum worked there so I just sneaked in the back and stood completely enthralled watching the whole thing. What girl didn't want to be Baby? And who didn't want to marry Johnny? Patrick Swayze you will always have a special place in my heart (and probably a few billion others).

After the first viewing I was totally hooked. I remember watching it on video over and over and over again. Even attempting to write all the dialogue down in script fashion (though I got bored on about scene 4, I was lazy it would appear even then). I wanted desperately to be a dancer.

But I was missing one particularly vital thing.

Any sense of coordination.

Being somewhat statuesque in build, well maybe that's too generous, a more apt term to describe me would be gangly.

It's true, I admit it. I am gangly. At 5' 10'' I have arms that are longer than most women's legs and hands that truly are bigger than most boys.

I was never gonna be a dancer. Aerobics is too challenging a feat for my level of coordination let alone actual dancing where you're supposed to look refined and elegant while you do it.

But still in my heart I want to wear those divine gowns (even the really immodest ones) and have gorgeous hair and make up and wear those dainty heels.

But in reality even one of those gowns wouldn't distract from my truly hideous varicose vein on my left calf (courtesy of pregnancy number 1), even if I managed to get my pig trotter type feet into dainty heels there is no chance I'd actually manage to walk in them, never mind dance. I don't even remember the last time I wore heels, at least 10 years, I have none in my shoe collection. Victoria Beckham would be utterly appalled.

But that is why Strictly Come Dancing brings me such tremendous joy. Ordinary celebrity people get to fulfil my fantasy. Some are excellent and some are appalling (which entertains me to a completely other degree I have to tell you) but they are dancing and every week I feel a little bit fulfilled just from watching them.

Oh and the eye candy in tight pants and shirts split to the waist really doesn't hurt either.