I WAS in a lift with Sven last week. Yes, that's right, Sven-Goran Eriksson, former England manager!
It was during an overnight stay at a posh Manchester hotel.
As me and my boyfriend lugged our bags up to the room Sven appeared in the lift behind us.
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He was taller than I imagined and clad in a Man City tracksuit and carrying a leather zip-up document holder.
Of course, as any normal person would, I spent the 12-floor (approx 30 second) journey blushing, suppressing giggles and looking at the floor - stealing the odd sneaky glance at Sven's shiny forehead and trademark rimless specs.
I didn't detect much charisma from him to be honest.
OK, he was quite gentlemanly (he let me go first and pressed the button for our floor), but he was also wearing an anorak that wouldn't look out of place on Roy Cropper.
I don't know what Ulrika saw in him!
As you'd expect, the minute we were out of the lift, both me and my boyfriend whipped out our phones to text everyone we knew, delivering the news of the celebrity spotting.
I don't know why it is that us ordinary folk go so strange when famous people are within touching distance, but it's almost impossible to act normally.
I love sharing stories about which famous people you've seen.
My personal trophies are Jon Snow, Kate Adie, Johnny Knoxville from Jackass, Eric Cantona, Rolf Harris, Chesney Hawkes and Spider Nugent from Coronation Street.
You're not allowed to count ones that you saw from afar or on stage - there has to be some kind of intimate contact for it to count.
I remember the first time I saw a famous person - on a shopping trip to Chester with my best friend and sister.
We spotted Ron Dixon off Brookside walking under the subway with his daughter and tore after him laughing hysterically, in that way teenage girls do.
We then proceeded to follow him for about 15 minutes giggling.
Some minor celebrities love this kind of thing. My friend Reema was once approached by Narinder off Big Brother 2 on a train and asked if she wanted her to autograph her ticket. Reema politely declined.
I don't usually feel sorry for celebrities, especially when they whinge about public intrusion and the paparazzi (drink in your local pub rather than China Whites if you hate it that much!) but having a famous face must warp your whole perception of the world.
Imagine if every person you walked past stared at you, sometimes shouted abuse, and tried to take your picture?
How could you ever be normal? I wouldn't know what to do with my face.
Brad Pitt compared being famous to being a good-looking woman permanently walking past a building site - how horrible must that be?
Being a member of the Royal family must be even weirder.
I'm sure Prince Philip truly believes he is the funniest man in the world: everyone laughs at his jokes no matter how weak they are. And the Queen can surely have no idea what a dirty public toilet looks like.
Andy Warhol said in the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.
I hope not. I had a glimpse of my 15 the other week when a man in a butty shop looked at me oddly, then said, 'Are you that girl who writes for the Telegraph?' and I didn't know what to do with myself.
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