Hey child, take a walk on the wildside

It finally happened. I have popped my cherry, you might say.

I had my first celebrity sighting in LA

I have lived in Hollywood for seven months and not one celebrity. It was starting to feel as if Us Weekly was mocking me with all the pictures of celebrities prancing about town. And nothing. My friends would tell their stories of seeing Elijah Woods and how short he really was (he really is a hobbit) or how Christopher Guest really is as funny in person. I would just shrug and say I think I saw Fred Durst driving down the street.
Tonight I went Christmas shopping at the Beverly Center and Borders across the street and was planning on going home when I decided to stop at Old Navy for some pants. I almost didn’t go in but I needed some new pants to cover up my newly ample ass. I finished my shopping and was standing in the long line when I saw a six foot tall black woman with the largest blue knit hat that I have ever seen. She turned around and I saw her face. I thought to myself, She looks like Macy Gray, I bet she gets that all the time.
So the line moved and I kept an eye on this very tall woman who looked like Macy Gray. She made her way up to the counter and some man walked up to her and said, I love your music. And in a baby squeaky voice she said, Thank you baby. Oh fuck, it is Macy Gray!
Now you all might be thinking to yourself, what would Macy Gray be doing in Old Navy? Shopping for trendy yet affordable clothes, of course. Why else would anyone come to Old Navy? I haven’t listened to Macy Gray’s music since my first real heartbreak a few years ago and I loved that song about the world crumbling without her dysfunctional man hanging around. I related a lot. So why am I so impressed with seeing her?
Because she’s a fucking celebrity! She’s been to the MTV music awards, she’s played the Conan O’Brian show, she’s been on the radio. And I saw her shopping for reasonably priced clothes. That’s one of the reasons I came to LA, to see movie stars and the like just living their lives. But now I’m hungry for more! I want to see Lionel Richie at the Save-On. I want to see Pamela Anderson pumping gas and yelling at her kids. I want to see Ben Affleck give his baby her first frappacino.

I guess that’s what happens when you leave your apartment once and a while.