In The Which I Reveal A Deep Dark Secret

This week a deep dark secret just waiting all these years to burst its way to the surface has emerged. Something I thought I was far above in my evolution, but nooooooooo....

...

I am a blithering idiot around celebrities, just like everyone else. I like to think I'm above the foibles of the mere masses around me, that my lofty grace and poise knows no bounds.

No.

Nope.

Nada.

Alec Baldwin came to my orchestra concert. When I saw him afterwards, he said, "Nice concert." I stammered out something like, "Thank you Mr. Baldwin." If his elevator door hadn't closed just then I probably would have followed this brilliant statement up with something like, "I love your show! Say hi to Tina for me! Can we be best friends!?!" Guffaw.

Then a few days ago I saw Clinton (as in Stacey and. From "What Not to Wear") at Whole Foods. He was sitting at a table talking to someone (looked like an interview). Well, it took me a minute to place him, I must admit, and I caught myself staring, trying to figure him out. Unfortunately, he also caught me staring, and he looked at me a little peeved. Oops. Poor guy. Can't go to the grocery store without some girl staring thinking, "I wonder if I can get away with saying, "Hi Clinton! I need help! Fashion emergency! Pick me! Pick me! Pick me! I already live in New York! You wouldn't even have to fly me here!" Thankfully, my better judgment kicked in and saved me from THAT humiliation.

Even now there's a part of me that almost wishes I asked him for a makeover. Sad. Day.