It Was A Tuesday.
I think I have this syndrome. The one where you think you keep spotting celebrities? Yeah, I have that. Is there a name for it? I swear, I keep thinking that I'm seeing everyone fromAllison Janney to Jay-Z. I'm out in the grocery store, and I swear that I see, like, Michael Jackson (not possible.) Why have I fallen prey to the excitement that buzzes around celebrity culture? I should be thrilled to spot someone like Christiane Amanpour or Thomas Friedman or some other great influential thought leader. But no. I keep wanting to see Blake Lively, in mad hopes that they're secretly filming a Gossip Girl reunion. (I mean, I would be amped to see Thomas Friedman. Because I've got questions for him.)
Aaaaaaaaanyways, I was leaving an acting seminar the other day in Times Square, and I'm just walking along (half-lost), looking for the subway, and then I see him. It's only a glimpse, and it's only for a mere second, but Woody Harrelson is walking toward me in a loose crowd of people. I did a double take, and we locked eyes for a moment's fraction. And I'm thinking, "I know your face!" And then he was gone.
IT WAS SO COOL.
He looked like any other normal business person on the street. He was wearing a suit-type jacket and carrying a black leather computer bag. Oh Woody, did you really have a computer in that bag?
Apparently he's producing a play here in the fall. Oh Woody.
I just had to share. When I was in town visiting last fall, I saw Snoop Dog with his posse. That was cool, but this was almost cooler. Because, you know, this is now.