I'm getting excited about the upcoming Robbie Williams' concert.

Until recently I didn't think I'd be going because of a boring story involving how much Ticketek SUCK. But then my friend F came up with a single ticket and it was a question of not see Robbie at all or see Robbie sitting by myself. Gee whiz! Which one should I choose?

So on 9 December I'll be going berko at Aussie Stadium with 50,000 other RW fans. The last concert was so amazing I just can't wait to re-live that feeling.

Listening to the Intensive Care CD as I drove to WBJ on Saturday I wondered why I love him so much. About why he seems to epitomise a certain type of sexiness which rationally I despise but hormonally I covet. I mean the 38-year-old-mother-of-two side of me knows he'd be worse than Henry VIII to be in a relationship with but the deeply buried teenage part of me is terrifyingly attracted to that bad boy persona.

What is it about the words "...didn't quite catch your name..." in Sin Sin Sin which makes me go a bit light headed? Possibly the fact I've never actually had a one night stand and the idea of such an experience is both revolting and intoxicating.

Everything about him takes me back to early high school. I was rebelling, I was discovering the world of punk and I was madly in lust with Dean (aka Fang). He was a friend of a friend, freshly released from a stint in Minda (a notorious Sydney juvenille detention centre) where he had been placed by his mother for being "uncontrollable" (they didn't have ADHD medication in the early 80s). It was a brief but passionate affair, a centre-of-the-universe type of affair as only 14 year olds can participate in. He was a very bad boy, he was very bad for me but I wouldn't give up those bittersweet memories for anything... well, possibly a night with Robbie (as long as it was OK with my husband and I could get a babysitter for the kids).