I never got into the boy-band-crush thing that generally greets the dawn of puberty in most preteen girls. I never had the giant poster Donny, Jordan or Justin on my wall that I kissed each night, nor did I doodle my first name with said boy's last name. I was in the pre-boy crazy stage when New Kids on the Block were all the rage and after that there was kind of a vacant spot until Backstreet Boys hit the scene. By then I was in high school and too cool to be a screaming swooning girl. But last night I felt it in its full glory at the So You Think You Can Dance concert. Despite the fact that Amelia (who was a contraction away from giving birth - don't worry folks, she brought a towel with her in case her water broke) and I were sandwiched between an elderly couple and a pair of middle aged moms, I felt like I was 12 years old. Of course all the performances were great but when Josh came on stage I screamed like a school girl. Even so, it didn't even rival the middle-aged moms next to us. Every look, wink, smile or laugh he made just made me swoon more and I was bugged that I didn't get to meet him. Here's the thing. From his very first audition he was my fave and to watch him go through all the tears, the victories, getting his braces off, etc, just made me love him all the more. I wanted to hug him, shake his hand and then never wash my own, and tell him how I adored him. I even cursed myself for not bringing a sign that spelled out my admiration. So now I get it. I get why when I was 9 years-old my 12-year old neighbor would walk around with a pillow in her shirt, call herself "Angela Knight" and said she planned on naming the baby "Jordan Jr." And for all you haters out there, just look at my obsession as finally reclaiming something that I was deprived in childhood. Joshua Allen, I LOVE YOU! WOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!