Unrequited Lust of the Pointless Kind.

I fancy the lovely Daniel from Big Brother. This is seriously depressing.

I hate fancying gay men. It's worse than lusting after film stars. At least when you lust after, say, Johnny Depp, there remains the highly unlikely and very tiny but still real possibility that one day you might bump into him in the street and he'll fall deeply in love with you, take you home and shag you senseless.

Lusting after gay men is completely pointless and deeply unsatisfying. You can't even fantasize about them and they're certainly never going to bump into you on the street, fall deeply in love and take you home and shag you. Or even not fall in love and still shag you anyway.

Why does my limbic brain not know this? Why has it ignored the rational part of my brain which says "He's gay so he likes men, and you're a woman so that means he won't like you."

Surely, if we were better designed, as soon as the rational part of my brain knew he was gay it should have switched off the lusting after bit. You'd think, wouldn't you?

Honestly. Can nobody create anything that works properly these days?

Tut.