Obsession: the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire. It is no secret that I am fully obsessed with all things Australia. I know that conventional wisdom says you should not feed into obsessions. Think Fatal Attraction, OCD, or those poor girls who cry every time they see the Jonas Brothers.
But, I can't help it. And, it's not my fault. I mean, I do all I can. I live 10,000 miles away from it. I try not to email, call or Google Australia more than necessary. I don't cyber-stalk it on Facebook or Myspace. I try and stay aloof so as not to turn myself into a quivering pool of craziness every time Australia comes around.
But, Australia isn't making it easy on me. It keeps beckoning me, teasing me, torturing me with its charms. What is a girl to do? I'm only human. Every time I think I'm safe, they throw me another curve ball. Another wonderfully delicious distraction from Down Under.
Hugh Jackman. Julian McMahon. Ben Lee. Russell Crowe. Those things I could handle. Then, they started to get personal. Shirtless Hotties. AFL games available on satellite television. Tim Tams. Summer Heights High. The Toll Collector. In short, Australia started to mess with my boundaries.
Now, I find out they are taking it one step further. One of my favorite Australian shows, The Chasers War on Everything is coming to American television. Okay, Australia. I give. Haven't I made it clear that I'm yours. Why do you have to keep messing with me?
I surrender. I'm powerless against you. You could do anything, and I'd be into it. Even put out the inevitable concept album that no one else will buy but me. You know I love you, Oz. Don't make me keep proving it.