HELP! I'm going out of my mind. If people don't stop talking about Pop Idol I'll flip.

I never saw it, nor did I want to. But I feel, overwhelmingly, that by not watching this programme I'm not entirely human and that I should have watched it simply so I can join in people's conversations once again.

Do you ever feel like you're the only person in the world who hasn't seen or done a certain thing? When everyone else talks incessantly about something that you know nothing about?

This phenomena first affected me in childhood and has never left me. I've tried to recall all the things that I've felt compelled to see or do because everyone else has done or seen it.

Shopping in Asda: This might seem an odd habit to crave, but when I was growing up in the north-east every family in the village - except us - used to shop at Asda in Stockton, 15 miles away.

Friends used to talk about "going to Asda" and I would nag my parents: "Dad, mum, can we please, please go to Asda?"

But they wouldn't hear of it, preferring to shop in the local - yet 50 times more expensive - high street.

So, for years, Asda was to me a place of mystery and adventure. When I actually went for the first time, aged 18, I stared in awe at the line of 20 tills and flashed my carrier bags to absolutely everyone when I got home.

Funny, when I take my own children to Asda I occasionally think "I hope they appreciate this".

Absolutely Fabulous: This TV programme should have been called Absolutely Everyone because that's what the audience appeared to be made up of.

"Oooh, did you see it last night? Patsy and Edina this, Patsy and Edina that".

From what I'd heard I didn't think I'd like it, but I got so sick of hearing about it that I tuned in. And couldn't for the life of me understand what the fuss was about.

Neighbours: For ages I ignored this soap, but then, with the Kylie-Jason thing going on and every tabloid and TV show swamped with references, I felt I had to watch it.

I put it on one afternoon and the yellowy-greenish hue of the boring sets made me feel quite queasy.

Harry Potter: I don't like fantastical things, never have, never will.

But when half the population is reading a book, you'd have to be dead not to be mildly curious.

I read a little in a newspaper serialisation and, to be honest, found it confusing and drudgerous. Still, at least I can make an informed comment on it now.

Ikea: When Ikea was in its infancy in this country, people would rave about it.

It became my ambition to become one of the many people I'd spotted walking around clutching a large brown paper bag with a lamp or rug sticking out of it.

Years later, when I finally did go, all I bought was a box of light bulbs, but I did get a bag to walk proudly around with.

Starbucks: People are always nattering about this place.

I'm more partial to greasy spoons with ripped linoleum floors and tatty plastic seats, but recently felt myself buckling under pressure to at least sample a take-away in one of those large paper cup with a funny feeder nozzle.

However, I now have the willpower to stay away after learning that my colleague, Sally, who I sit next to at work, has not been to a Starbucks either.

Oh, by the way, I don't always follow the crowd. I saw the film Shrek - now, apparently, the country's best-selling video - absolutely ages ago, before anyone else (thanks to my children. Incidentally, I didn't like it).