As much as I love George Clooney (which, as you know, is a lot), I have quite a soft spot for Anderson Cooper. He is just so handsome and adorable and awkward and intelligent. Part of why I love him is because he is such an honest writer. I have been reading his memoir off and on over the last year and it gets me every time. He is so outwardly strong. He travels to war-torn areas, risks his life for stories, and illuminates the plight of the oppressed. But what really gets me is a vulnerability just under the surface. He is deeply wounded (due mostly to his rough family past). I guess it is the “fixer” in me; I want to make his life better. Weird and girly, I know. Chalk this post up to girlhood fantasies and a large dose of TMI.