Or, more correctly, the tartan. I want to move to Scotland. I found this BBCAmerica show on PBS on Sunday nights called Monarch of the Glen and now I'm in love with the idea of moving to Scotland. The show involves a dishy young man being called home from London to Glenbogle to run the family estate. It involves a lot of lovely scenery and wonderful Scottish and British accents. Also, like I said, the main character is quite attractive. Imagine a Scottish John Cusack. If that is your cup of tea. It is most definitely mine.
So now my wildest fantasies involve being located by some sort of official and inheriting, through one of the Scottish lines on either side of my genealogy, some sort of lovely estate. Of course there would at first be a lot of issues with the locals, because I would be seen as an interloper, from America no less. But I would of course win them over with my lovely personality and willingness to adapt to local customs and what not. And of course at some point there would be a dashing dark-haired Scot to sweep me off my feet. Also, don't you think the Scottish countryside would be an excellent place to write novels? Think of the inspiration. Or, homesickness could inspire me to write a brilliant ode to my homeland. See, I think this could be the answer to all my problems.
And when Miss Parker read this, I will be forever banned from watching BBCAmerica or PBS ever again.