Once a gossip girl...?

I love my boss. He had to take the exam for UK Citizenship today, so that he can extend his visa. I don't know if you've tried to take the test but it is actually quite tricky in places. A lot of it is basic stuff that you would pick up through living here, but there are some historical dates/questions about Hansard that are harder. My boss was taking a practice test the other day, invited me in to his office to see how I did, and was gobsmacked when I got 22 out of 24 questions right. As was I. Anyway, then yesterday, this other guy asked Percy if the test was hard, and Percy said, "It is hard if you haven't revised - lots of history and strange facts."
"So I wouldn't pass if I tried?" he asked.
"No, you wouldn't pass. Jane did, but she is the exception."
Brilliant. Making me feel good while the other guy feels sick that he's been beaten by a PA. Mwah ha ha.

In other business... Somehow I doubt I will ever be naturally highbrow. I logged on to the Guardian's website this morning to check the news, and dutifully scrolled through stories about the economy and conflicts abroad. Then my eye was lassoed by an article called 'The Wisdom of Boybands'. My mouse shot over and opened the page and I devoured its contents like an emaciated hyena let loose in a butcher's. In shameful contrast to the articles about serious news, in this piece, the names were all familiar to me - Nicky from Westlife? Yep, interviewed him several times. Tony Mortimer? Lit his cigarette at the Ivor Novello awards when I was given special permission to come up to London for them while I was at boarding school. Simon Webbe from Blue? Yup. He used to know me as 'the posh bird'. Richie from Let Loose? I bought Crazy for You on CD single from Kiosks in Calne when I was 15, and we made a mix tape for Nessa when we paused the CD in the break between the first chorus and the second verse, and left the tape running, and then tried to get her to sing the beginning of the second verse really loudly and embarrass her. The only one I wasn't so familiar with was one of the Jonas Brothers, but even then, I'd recognise them in a line-up no problem.

Even worse, it's not like I now scoff at their opinions. I know there are more important things to be worrying about, but I genuinely never knew that Louis had fired Westlife twice for mucking about before they made the big time. And I really enjoyed reading what Tony Mortimer had to say about the fact that his ex-bandmates are still touring with his songs. I was following these people during my most formative years. Peter Mandleson, Alistair Campbell, IPPR, Afghanistan, immigration, nuclear disarmament, global warming and third world debt were all around in the eighties and nineties too - I just didn't give a monkey's. And now I'm wondering if it's too late. The vocabulary is still a struggle. Reading Prospect magazine takes weeks out of every month because I would rather stare into a stranger's shoulder on the tube than read a fascinating exploration of the use of neuroscience in developing political ideology. And then I notice a gossip piece about Cheryl Cole in someone else's London Lite and I get butterflies because I am so desperate to know what she's alleged to have been doing.

Should I give in? The siren calls emanating from the trashy, dangerously confidence-slashing women's media are powerful but I've fought them for several years, earnestly trying to boost my general knowledge through continued non-fiction book buying and a complete refusal to read Heat except while in hairdressers'. To relent now, to admit defeat by politics, seems like a shame. But we only live once. No one ever lay on their deathbed saying, "I wish I'd spent more time learning about the conflict in Darfur." Actually, maybe they did. But somehow, I don't think those will be my last words. More likely? My predictions are as follows:

1. "Ow."
2. "Morphine."
3. "Promise me you won't remarry."
4. "Can you pass me that bit of garlic bread?"