The man in my life is a girl. I mean, he’s a man, but he possesses so many girlfriend qualities that I sometimes can’t believe it. When I told him I bought a cute shirt recently in Ann Taylor Loft, he squealed: “I LOVE that store!”

Tonight was yet another example of his girliness. We have a game where we send each other the lyrics, out of the blue and often in mid-conversation, of some obscure ’80s songs. I have yet to stump him. Last night it was: “Call me good, call me bad.” He immediately knew it was I’m Your Man by Wham, although we were soon quarreling bitterly because I think that song is a pop masterpiece and he think it’s total shite.

Tonight I thought I had him, and texted him the following in the middle of a discussion about Caroline Kennedy: “We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder.” I thought this was such a girl song that he’d never get it. His prompt reply: “Weeeeeeee belong, we belong, we belong together!”

In honour of him and you Benatar-loving bitches — you know who you are — a little early New Year’s confection:

And just because I love George Michael and think no man has ever sung a pop song with more exuberance, there’s this (there is a needlessly long intro to this video; the music starts at 1:20):