Celebrity

As a new New Yorker, I frequently spot celebrities and almost celebrities all the time. Just the other day, I was in a very humble yet delicious Chinese restaurant in Midtown where I saw two reality TV non-stars. Since I've already become a somewhat jaded New Yorker, and have ceased to go up to celebrities and let them know that "I" have spotted them, I squealed in excitement to my lackluster boyfriend.

Often friends and relatives ask me if I've gotten a chance to spot a celebrity and I give them all the details of all my D-list spottings. In this day and age of TMZ and everyman reporters (if you've got a camera on your cell phone, apparently you're a reporter) how is it possible that this obsession is seeping out of me. It's possible that maybe it's not, inasmuch as not only do I read MeadiaTakeOut obsessively, I've got it sidelined on my blog for goodness sake!

Some of the celebrities have been very nice to me, and have even held conversations with me. Others have raised their eyebrows at me and spoke to me with that "leave-me-the-fuck-alone" tone. Outside the reality non-stars I saw a television actress in a new restaurant in Harlem, and I didn't bother to say a word. I don't know if these events are kudos to me, or just proof that new in my New Yorker is getting a little stale.