In which I reveal myself as a crazed fan girl

So Friday night I had to go to this extremely deluxe benefit, the grand opening of the new building that will house Chicago's Joffrey Ballet.

Let me first set the record straight by informing you that to this party--the single most expensive benefit I've ever gone to--I wore a $40 dress I eBayed last year or maybe the year before--whenever I realized that I was not going to lose the twenty or so pounds I'd found.

So there were tours of the building and performances which I ignored, and drinking and eating which I did my best to do justice to. Especially the caviar.

Now, I had never seen so much press at a benefit. I mean, this was a party for about 200 people, and I spotted at least four different people taking pictures, as well as a videographer, and someone who was obviously a reporter (wearing street clothes, taking notes, asking questions.) And I realized that the person being interviewed was Harold Ramis.

Now, I knew he's a Chicagoan, and I'd noticed pictures of him in articles about various benefits, but you know, there he WAS. In person!

But I was good! Sure, I stared a bit--but very discretely. And I didn't get all weird and bounce up to him to say something stupid.

Until we were leaving the party. Then, because it was raining and people were huddling around under umbrellas, my husband was getting us a cab, and there was Harold Ramis AGAIN. Listen, if he wants crazed female Ghostbusters I and II, Meatballs, Caddyshack, and Groundhog Day fans to leave him alone, he shouldn't spend so much time standing on the sidewalk chatting with his friends waiting for his ride. I don't mean to blame the victim, but he has only himself to blame for the following encounter:

(Poppy Buxom spots Harold with his back to her, chatting with his friends. She approaches and taps him on the shoulder) Look, I'm sorry--but I just have to say this. I know everyone is always saying how much they love Groundhog Day, and so do I--but I really love Multiplicity, too.

Harold Ramis: Then I love you!

Poppy Buxom laughs, turns on her heel, and runs towards the cab her husband has snagged.