I always feel somewhat torn at this time of year. On the one hand, I want to take the piss out of Big Brother, saying that the contestants are pathetic wannabes and that it's only people without real friends who watch it.
On the other hand, Big Brother is the Best Thing Ever.
I find myself getting so involved in it. The format is so simple. Put people in a house and watch them like they're animals. Fantastic.
My favourite programme is the one they usually show on a Sunday night where psychologists analyse the contestants' body language, telling us interesting little titbits like how to see in someone's eyes if their smile is fake, and how men compete to be the alpha male.
Every time I see the adverts for auditions for Big Brother, there's always a tiny part of me that desperately wants to take part. Of course, in reality, the thought of rationed food, no sex for weeks (unless it's under a table as in the last series) and a million strangers watching me in the shower, really isn't that appealing. I would also hate being famous. I had enough trouble when I lived in China, where being white automatically made you a local celebrity. People would approach me in the street wanting a photo of me holding their baby or a lock of my hair. If I had that level of attention back in Britain I would almost certainly leave and go and live in an igloo or something.
I suppose what it comes down to is that we all have a desperate urge to be liked, and to know what people think of us. I heard about a website where you post a photo of yourself and complete strangers give you marks out of ten. In a drunken haze, my friends and I vowed to post our photos there, and I'm thoroughly relieved to say that once we sobered up we realised what a truly awful idea that is. Some things you're better off not knowing...
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