The Man, The Myth, The Legend

I figured it's time. I mean, it's been easy up to this point, keeping everything seperate. A phone call here. A rendevous there. But I'm starting to find my double life taxing. So here he is. My boyfriend. Michael Buble.

I took this picture under the guise of a regular concert goer. I even sat in the third row so as not to be too obvious. I sang along, even mustered a blush or two as we made eye contact, all the while knowing that even though he played up to the leggy blond in the first row, he only has eyes for me.

I know. It doesn't seem fair. I mean, in my regular life, I have a fantastic husband who is a great father to my children. And then I have Michael. Sweet, charming, hilarious Michael. It's almost more than a girl can bear. But I'm willing to go on. To be all that I can to my family here in Pasco, and to Michael. He understands.

Unfortunately, I couldn't get away to see his final concerts in Hawaii. He begged me to come but I was torn between moonlit walks on the beach with you-know-who and the equally romantic option of laundry folding with the other man in my life. I'll try harder next time.

So the next time you come across some tabloid report or see an entertainment news bulletin about my Michael, remind yourself that while he puts up a mysterious and private front, his heart really belongs to a chubby housewife in Pasco, not some sinewy English babe. She's just a front, a prop if you will to keep the paparazzi confused.

I'll continue to post pictures of my amazing boyfriend and even some of my real family, all for fairness sake. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call and ask me to get autographs for you or your friends. He hates it when I ask him for stuff like that although he was all too happy to sign my DVD cover. But I'll put in a good word for you. Maybe I can score you some tickets for his next tour. I know I'll be there.