In an unexpected turn of events, I had a star sighting last night. In Dublin, no less. Sorry Ron! They don't all hang out at the Beverly Center.

I was at mfavoritete wine bar, Dowling's, (favorite because the French manager has a heavy hand while pouring and a light hand while adding my tab) ((and he flirts with me like crazy)) , so I was in Dowling's exploring my newest passion, Loire Valley whites when in walks Andrew McCarthy. He walked in, glanced over at me and smiled (the teenager in me swooned) and then walked right out the back door and disappeared. Evidently he's not a fan of Loire Valley whites. Or stuffed olives... too bad, they were divine. I wasn't sure at first it was him, and several double takes were, ummm... taken, but my friends in California can attest: I'm pretty good at spotting celebs. Ok to be fair, I'm not great mostly because I'm never paying attention, but I have worse talents.

The thing is, in LA you sort of expect it. It's Hollywood after all and they have to live somewhere. So you never really get worked up about it or see it as unnatural. "Hey it's Tom Hanks"; 'Oh look! Cher's trying to get 16 items in the express checkout again.' blah, blah, blah, whatever. But in Dublin, well, that's another story altogether. It was so unexpected. When Ande McDowell came to town for a movie, it was front page news. I think it even made the network news on several channels. They have a strange fascination with her here and in England, even though she can't act. (And believe me, St. Elmo's Fire? Not the worst thing she's done. Rent Crush sometime when you want to channel your rage) I guess you only get the news coverage when if you have a modelling contract with a cosmetics company.

In other news... my mother, bless her, seems to think the only thing I do over here is drink. Wonder what gave her that idea?