I am outraged.
Kevin Spacey was doing research for his new movie at SP’s work yesterday and he didn’t even call me. Apparently, SP believes that if I’d known about Kevin, I would have run down there and made a fool of myself. I’m not saying he’s wrong. I’m just saying, Hello, you know I love Kevin Spacey and he’s at your work all freaking day and you don’t even let me know? That’s just cold, dude.
But the movie sounds hot. It’s about investment bankers in the 24-hour period following the Wall Street financial crisis. For some reason, movies like this fascinate me. Boiler Room was really good and I cannot wait for the Wall Street sequel to come out. There’s a part in the trailer where Michael Douglas gets out of jail and they’re giving him all his stuff back and there’s this big honking mobile phone from 1987. Love it!
Tragically, Kevin is not the only star I’ve missed this week. John Mayer did a secret show at 3:00 a.m. the other night right down the street from my place. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know how annoyed I am right now. I checked my Twitter the next morning and there was his tweet from an hour before the show and I was like, Come on! So unfair. At least I have sweet memories of my front row center seat at his Madison Square Garden concert…and the best pics ever!
Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think that was the end of the drama? Because I’m just getting started.
We all know that I look like Kiefer Sutherland’s gf (from the side), that we’ve met (he’s my neighbor), and that I’ve been to his house (while it was being renovated). So it makes sense that I’ve been hoping to see him around again. A few nights ago, I was meeting some friends for dinner in the nabe. I was the first one there and waited on the corner for 10 minutes. When one of my friends showed up, we had to go several doors down to wait inside because the bar at the restaurant was full and they had this other random bar over there. So we’re catching up and waiting for everyone else to arrive when my friend Mark comes bursting in all, “Kiefer’s here.” Of course Kiefer was there. Of course we were having dinner at the same restaurant. And of course I was standing right next to him for 10 minutes while he was eating outside and I didn’t even notice. Mark got to pet his gf’s sister’s dog and talk to Kiefer and even SP ran into Kiefer when he got out of a cab, and where was I? Exiled to this random bar halfway down the block so I couldn’t even see what was going on. When I don’t even drink.
Did I get to see Kiefer? Yes. Did I get to talk to him? No. But this is not over. I know his coordinates. I’m securing the perimeter. We’ll meet again one day. Maybe he’ll even remember that part in Take Me There where the boys are recreating a scene from 24 on the roof, just my friend Jim and I enjoy doing. Copy that.
But none of this is why I’m outraged.
Here’s why I’m outraged.
They were filming a big movie last night around the corner. My street was taken over by all of the movie trucks, like food service and actor trailers. Kate Hudson was spotted. I didn’t try to find out who else was in the movie because I’m not a fan. (Note: This post probably sounds like I’m some kind of celeb-crazed stalker, but I really only like a few of them. They’ve just all converged this week, I swear!). I didn’t even go out to watch the filming last night. But just now I was like, Let’s see who else is in the movie with Kate so I can mention it on my blog. And guess who else is in the movie?
Now, if you know me at all you know that I am a seriously huge Office fan. And that John Krasinski is my #1 husband, and has been ranked as such for years. So while I was sitting here last night like, Ho-hum, I’ll just have blueberries and watch Thirtysomething and ignore the big movie filming, JOHN KRASINSKI WAS LITERALLY OUTSIDE MY DOOR.
Are. You. Freaking. Kidding me?!
I mean, that’s the last straw. Nothing can top that one. Unless a package for David Letterman accidentally gets delivered to me and while I’m at his building trying to return it, Dave stops by because FedEx told him it was here. If anything like that happens, I’ll be sure to let you know.
For now, I have to remember how lucky I am that I even get to be close to any of this. I don’t spend an enormous chunk of my income on rent just for one closet, 400 square feet, and the opportunity to live without a freezer. The energy of my neighborhood inspires me every single day. It helps my writing. It helps me feel alive. And there’s always the chance that one day, John Krasinski will be that guy in line behind me at the coffeehouse.