Sunday, November 9, 2008
On my street.
It hit me like a ton of briques the first time I walked past her in front of my apartment building. The beautiful, blonde, young 30-something, Parisian babe walking towards me was George Clooney's ex-girlfriend!
C'mon, you remember her, don't you? Her name is Celine. She's the French barmaid who George plucked from the Barfly restaurant about ten years ago and brought back to L.A. to live with him and his pig.
In Paris a barmaid one day, hitting the red carpet with the cutest actor in Hollywood the next day! Not bad for la petite parisienne!
Very bad for me though as I've become a stalker mommy.
My mission after spotting her was to figure out what building she was visiting and whether she lived there or if she was rendez-vousing with someone famous. I figured out which car she drove (a Smart) and I even peeked inside (spotless).
How sad is that?
But it got worse.
I was walking next to her with the French Fries one day (she was literally arm's length from me) and I said to Big Fry (in English and a bit louder than normal), "So are you excited to take the airplane to America tomorrow? We're going to visit Grandma in Malibu."
As I slyly looked at her from behind my sunglasses to see if it registered that we were going to her old haunt, she continued walking looking dazed and confused.
I am SO lame, je sais!
Once I knew which building she was visiting (the beautiful and very bourgeois one) I had to know who lived there. So I thought it would be easy to walk up to the front door and look at the names posted on the interphone. Well, not so easy. Either the concierge was polishing the door knobs or one of the couple of mommies from Big Fry's school who live in the building would be coming or going. I didn't want them to think I was a weird American mommy stalker (which of course I am).
So what's a stalker mom to do?
Well, I got my confidence together one day (helped by a very cute outfit, a blowout, and a shopping bag from Dior) and sauntered up to the door as if I lived there myself. I slowly read the names on the interphone and had the biggest let down because I thought I was on to a scoop and I was ready to call the French gossip mags (except they probably wouldn't have taken my call because George's ex is a Z-list celebrity in France)....
Her parents Monsieur & Madame live in the building!