See-Leb 7: Rod Stewart

Tyra Banks might have dined at an Italian bistro last weekend.

Joshua Jackson might have run into a supermarket a few nights ago.

Jason Lee is almost certain to have been at Starbucks this morning. I’m 99% sure that the man who’s name is Earl walked by as I was sipping a cup o’joe dressed in my redneck rags of a Led Zeppelin tee-shirt and a black bandana – could that have been anymore perfect!? Well, maybe, had I been wearing a giant chipmunk suit. If that was indeed Dave Seville's Starbucks, you better believe that when those red coffee cups hit stores signaling that Christmas, Christmas time is near, I'll be seated there all season long with an egg nog latte singing: "ME! I WANT A HOOLA HOOP!"

Here in Los Angeles, counting the stars can be cumbersome. I’ve had to remind myself that not every older man with a gray beard and loopy glasses is Steven Spielberg so many times that I’m convinced AARP is endorsing his look as the latest style for early birds. Either that or he has sent out an army of look-alike robots as some sort of pre-production test for the next A.I. / E.T. blockbuster.

Adding further stress to see-lebbing is that anyone could pass for a star in the right pair of sunglasses. And everyone is wearing the right pair of sunglasses all the time! Outside, inside, day, and night. Unfortunately, no one briefed me about this requirement for accurately assimilating into the California culture. I probably would have ditched my $9.99 black pair of bug eyes anyway though. The tan lines were becoming so dramatic that someone might have incorrectly see-lebbed me as any screenplayed superhero whose costume involved a white eye mask.

There are certain times however, when all it takes is a quick glance to know you have just star gazed at something far greater than the great beyond. Something that fills your heart with gladness. Something that takes away all your sadness. Something that eases your troubles – tan lines included.

And that's exactly what happened two mornings ago when I was walking past a French boulangerie. I was doing my normal routine of turn-head-and-ogle-delicious-food-that-I-will-one-day-be-able-to-afford, when I looked up from one patron's plate and OOO LA LA! I immediately locked eyes with ROD STEWART dressed head to toe in all white and khaki. Let me tell you, he WEARS IT WELL!

I had never wanted to be a waitress more in my life. Can you imagine having Rod Stewart asking what you have to drink on the breakfast menu? The response would come automatically: "I'm sorry but I'm out of milk and coffee. NEVERMIND SUGAR! WE CAN WATCH THE EARLY MOVIE!”

All those nights I spent dancing around my room alone suddenly had a purpose. In that 1.38 second session of eye contact with the legend of leather and lust, I lost my ability to think but my subconscious could kick in to tell me three things: I want his body. I think he’s sexy. Come on sugar, LET HIM KNOW!

I was about to really need him and just reach out and touch him when I regained control and was able to keep walking.

Where was I going? What was I doing? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. Such a see-lebbing as this one made my heart feel freer than those young Turks. Oh yes, TIME WAS ON MY SIDE! In fact, had my name been Patti, I’m sure I would have GAVE BIRTH TO A 10 POUND BABY BOY! YEAH!

If SOME GUYS HAVE ALL THE LUCK, then Rod Stewart made me one of them. I had to make the most of this good fortune but how?

Should I continue on eastward, turn the next corner, and begin texting every Maggie in my cell phone with: “I THINK I GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO YOU!”

Or should I turn around and head back westward – straight towards WHERE THE OCEAN MEETS THE SKY and go SAILING?!

Then again, did it really matter which way I went?

No. And it never would. After all, it was Rod Stewart himself who told me long, long ago that: whatever road I choose, he's right behind me, WIN or LOSE!

And so may sunshine and happiness surround you too when you're far from home. Because even for those who never get their fleeting moment in Rod’s eyesight, you know that in his heart, you’ll always stay FOREVER YOUNG! forever young. FOREVER YOUNG! forever young.

FOR. EVVV. ER. YOUNG!

FOR-OR!-OR!-OR! EVVV-ER! YOUNG!

FOR!

FOR!

EV-ER YOUNG!

FOR-EVVVV-ERRRR-YOU-OU-NG!

See-Leb 5 & 6: Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson

To be turned on once in a Quizno's is expected.

How could you not with that sensuous, talking oven from the commercial? He certainly seduced me into trying the new toasty Topedo for only $4. What? Say it sexier? For only four dolllllllars.

But to be turned on twice in a Quizno's - that's unheard of!

It's what happens though upon see-lebbing a certain daredevil of an actor eating an equally sub-stantial lunch.

After hearing two males with accents come into the sandwich shop, I assumed they were a couple of Aussies. When I finally looked up from my tasty turkey pesto however, I recognized at least one of them to definitely not be of Australian descent, for he was Ireland's very own native son, Colin Farrell. Joining him was another lad bearing the classic Celtic traits of fair skin and red hair, and possibly one too many servings of meat and potatoes...

I'm embarrassed to say that I've never seen one of Colin Farrell's films. I only know his face because I admired it for its accessories which often included a black bandana, a beard, a pair of silver earrings, and ALWAYS a cigarette.

Since I sunk my Torpedo down quite quickly, I needed a reason to extend this lunch brush with fame. Unfortunately, my table was right under one of the restaurant's speakers, and while smooth favorites might aid digestion, the blaring volume was further complicating my comprehension of Colin & Co.'s Gaelic tongue. Thanks to me lucky charms though, the Irishmen were seated next to that pickle and pepper fixings bar. So I took up a strategic addiction to pepperocinis and made many a return trip to those tangy tubs. About a half-hour later, I was greener than the Chicago River on St. Patrick's Day but it was well worth overhearing Mr. Farrell say "fuck" multiple times.

After mass texting my friends about the fifth star sighting in just a little over a week in LA, me begans to doubt myself. If I saw wrong and Colin Farrell was actually in Macedonia shooting "Alexander II," I would instantly lose my celebrity credibility forever. What if the man I saw was his stunt double? Or maybe he was just a fellow countryman in town for a "Lord of the Dance" casting call? Or perhaps these two were merely members of the IRA-LA Chapter forced to come out of hiding when there wasn't enough corned beef and cabbage to go around?

I decided to do a S.W.A.T. surveillance on all photographic evidence that could surface through Google Images and IMDB. At the end of my search, there was my pot of gold in a picture of Colin from the most recent Golden Globes Awards night. He was on the red carpet standing next to none other than his lunch buddy who I had seen a wee bit ago.

Who was also none other than BRENDAN GLEESON!

Who was also none other than HAMISH CAMPBELL in "BRAVEHEART!"

Who was also none other than MAD EYE MOODY in "HARRY POTTER!"

And this last credit of Brendan's is particularly exciting because before I moved to California, I was a career babysitter and my former clients were all wizard wannabes. Eating lunch next to a Hogwarts Professor is a big deal for us Muggles!

I do feel a little guilty for not recognizing Mr. Gleeson in-person. He definitely would have qualified to be my third turn-on at Quizno's. From the wool kilt, those dreadlocks, the face paint and sword to his way with the wand and that signature optometric apparatus - ohhhh it wouldn't be the first time that he made me feel all mmmmmmmmmmmm toasty.

See-Leb 4: Ashton Kutcher

Should I ever reach the status of celebrity, the last place I would want to run into the creator of “Punk’d” would be The Coffee Bean. I doubt even the shock-savvy producers at MTV would air my reaction footage if a barista (or Dax wearing an apron) told me a few sips into my beverage that he accidentally used whole milk instead of skim. WHAT THE [beep] IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!? [beep]! YOU ALL WILL [beep] SEARCH EVERY [beep] CELL IN MY [beep] BODY UNTIL YOU HAVE [beep] RECOVERED EACH [beep] ONE OF THOSE SEVENTY [beep] EXTRA CALORIES YOU [beep] [beep] [beep]!

But since I’m merely a civilian, it was a joy to see-leb Ashton Kutcher grabbing what looked like a large iced mocha to-go last weekend.

It’s actually the second time I’ve seen him in-person. The first sighting was during a live taping of “That ‘70s Show.” While he wasn’t rude, he certainly wasn't as chummy with us members of the audience as his co-star, and apparently his best friend in real life, Wilmer Valderrama or “Fez.” This was before his marriage to Demi though and since she and the kids showed up to the set that day, he was probably preoccupied with courting.

Up-closer this time, there’s no question as to how his stardom began with modeling. Well, except for his outfit. With the flood length pants, the Converse-style sneakers, the plaid shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal some hippie-type necklaces, and a pair of suspenders, I originally thought this man to be just a clown taking a coffee break in between birthday parties.

Upon him kindly asking The Coffee Bean boy at the register: “And how is your day going, sir?” I went ahead and judged him as a genuinely nice person - you know, someone I’d definitely want to be friends with. Although the four year difference between us might make me a better fit to be his stepdaughter???

Luckily, he was in-and-out and I didn't see him use any sort of wireless device. I've never been on Twitter but had he ordered his drink "for here," I fear he would have eventually tweeted something like: OH RT @ coffee bean. being spied on by strange girl pretending to read newspaper. good try.

See-Leb 3: Nick Lachey

I can’t say I was ever a fan of the boy band 98 Degrees. Except when that temperature dropped one December and I added “This Gift” to my Christmas list.

I can’t say I was ever a fan of the TV show “Newlyweds” either. However, I did admire the starring couple for waiting to make love, mowing their own lawn, and bringing attention to the deceptive product packaging of Chicken of the Sea. It sure was a shame the show was cancelled with their marriage.

But I can say that I definitely was a fan of one of the divorcees after hearing a certain song debut in 2006. It was completely by accident. At the time I was listening to a lot of Nine Inch Nails, Disturbed, and System of a Down. When a scanning session seduced my ears to the tune of Nick Lachey’s “What’s Left of Me,” I had to ask myself the same. My head had immediately gone from banging to bewitched with a sentimental value I deemed priceless.

That song still turns me into such a sap that upon see-lebbing its singer, I would have expected tearing up to be my natural reaction. In truth, my eyes were already watering before I saw him at Poquito Mas, or “The Original Baja Taco Stand.” That’s just what happens when a secret softy like me thinks they can handle extra hot salsa.

With my physical senses already vulnerable, my emotional sensitivity became susceptible as well when I walked over to him as he was standing right in front of the fixings bar - the SoulO obstacle between me and my much needed milder toppingos Mexicanos.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I had a chance to rebound with this recently reinstated single. But what would I say?! Luckily, I did remember that in “With You,” Jessica Simpson made it clear that she could “SAY ANYTHING CRA-ZY! AND KNOW YOU’LL CATCH ME RIGHT BEFORE I HIT THE GROUND! WITH NOTHING BUT A TEE-SHIRT ON! I NEVER FELT SO BEAUTIFUL, BABY AS I DO NOW! NOW THAT I'M WITH YOU!”

But I didn’t feel like going pantsless in Poquito Mas and plus, I had quite possibly what is the greatest tostados salad ever made this side of the border waiting back at my table. If there was going to be any serenading, it would have been dedicated to that salsa: “CAUSE I WANT YOU! AND I FEEL YOU! CRAWLING UNDERNEATH MY SKIN! LIKE A HUNGER! LIKE A BURNING!”

I’m sure Nick would have understood my favoring of the flavoring. We obviously share the same taste in fine Mexican dining. Then again, as I’ve heard from my friends who religiously watched “Newlyweds,” anything would taste good to him after Jessica’s cooking...

See-Leb 2: Eddie Murphy

Despite my parents being quite conservative, our family movie nights were far from censored. Among the repeat offenders that my sisters and I grew up on were “Coming to America” and “Trading Places.”

So often did we view and re-view these two classics that our family had ever line memorized and ever scene down for reenactment. Some little kids dabble in karate, we were showing off the "quart of blood technique.” Songs like "She's Your Queen to Be" and "Just Let Your Soul Glo” – we could harmonize like were the Von Trapps. In elementary school, we had a firm understanding of the commodities market, particularly “pork bellies, which is used to make bacon, which you might find in a bacon-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich [look up into camera].” And no matter what the clock said, in our family it was always “BEEF JERKY TIME! There’s plenty you know.”

So when I was sitting in The Coffee Bean last week, and in walked His Royal Highness, the Heir to the Throne of Zamunda, PRINCE AKEEM, I had no idea what to do.

Actually, I had TOO MANY IDEAS what to do!

Should I throw rose petals at his feet?!

Put my “hands together for Mr. Randy Watson” and then start stomping and screaming “SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!”

Unscrew a mop and yell mercilessly “Freeze you diseased rhinoceros pizzle!"

Put down my beverage, bow at his feet and exclaim: “OH MY GOODNESS! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT! IT IS YOU!... May I just have my picture taken with you? Oh, I will cherish this experience for the rest of my life.” Then kiss his hand and bow, and bow again, and bow again, and bow again...

Or just ask him if he has sex with his bathers. “I know I do.”

As luck would have it, I just happened to be on the phone with my father and despite being stunned, I was able to mange a whisper: “You are not going to believe who just walked in here.” “WHO?” I tried to be discrete: “Ummm, well, he’s a detective from Detroit…?” “EDDIE MURPHY! YOU GOT TO BE SHI- KIDDING ME!” Clearly Dad forgot that I had learned “the s-word” at the age 6 from none other than the Nutty Professor himself, Mr. Murphy.

Surprisingly, Eddie Murphy seemed quite quiet in person, maybe even timid? Of course, it could have been an act. He’s definitely had plenty of experience going undercover in Beverly Hills.

Ironically on the Saturday night that followed the Eddie Murphy sighting, what was on TV? “Coming to America!” I watched it. Both times. Don’t you just love it when before the credits are even done rolling, the Paramount mountain shows up on screen and TBS plays the exact same movie again?

And the irony of double takes only continued because the next morning, who walked through the doors of The Coffee Bean for a second time? Eddie Murphy. This time I had been sitting by the window so I saw which car was his and yes, I was definitely tempted to pull an Axel F by putting a banana in the tailpipe. Unfortunately, Eddie decided not to wait in the line but before he pulled the door back open, he stopped and said: “Woah! That’s a big dog!” having spotted a mid-sized mutt. I couldn’t help but silently chuckle as he had just quoted himself on a line I had heard twice the night before: “Bark like a dog! A big dog!” But then I was confused. Didn’t he play super veterinarian Doctor Dolittle? 1 and 2? I guess he had quite the stuntman helping him out in that role.

If I see-leb him a third time at the local Coffee Bean, I think we can safely assume that Eddie Murphy and I live in the same “Holly-hood.” In that case, I might have to say hello in manner of: “GOOD MORNING MY NEIGHBOR! YES! YES! FUCK YOU TOO!”

See-Leb 1: Catherine Zeta-Jones

Remember when you were little and you'd play games like: "If you could be any character in a movie and play the part in real life, who would you be?"

From the late 80's on, my answer has always been the same: Joan Wilder in "Romancing the Stone" (played by Kathleen Turner).

Though I really have no right to be picky, I don't ever want to answer the question: "So how did you two meet?" with: "At a [bar / party / speed dating seminar / website / reality TV show]." Don't get me wrong - I'm thrilled for my friends, and sometimes even envious, over their having found that "special someone" on Match.com or meeting "the one" when he offered to pick up the tab of Red Bull vodkas.

But for me, I want the adventure, the rugged passion, the star-crossed connection, the fantasy of an inescapable fate! I WANT TO BE COMPLETELY LOST IN LOVE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COLUMBIAN RAINFOREST, SEARCHING FOR HIDDEN TREASURE WHILE SWINGING ON VINES AND BEING CHASED DOWN BY RUTHLESS MILITANTS, CRIMINALS, CROCODILES, SNAKES, AND DANNY DeVITO! I WANT MY JACK T. COLTON!

Hence, why I must confess to having a celebrity crush on the lead actor in my movie: Michael Douglas.

Now I've yet to see him in person but I do believe I see-lebed a close second: his wife.

I kind of thought the woman in front of me at Starbucks looked familiar. After all, it would only take one viewing of "Entrapment" to become fully aware of every detail of Catherine Zeta-Jones' body thanks to that scene where she's ever so seductively winding and bending through the laser beam security system for many a minute of intense zoom-ins. But it wasn't until I heard the faint accent in her order of a tall soy latte that I could confirm the voice was the same one from the T-Mobile commercials. "Get more?" Of a look, I certainly did.

Almost every actress I've sighted before appears to be about 20 pounds thinner off-screen. As someone who's always equated bony with beauty, I myself was shocked to discover that the emaciation of Hollywood really isn't that pretty in person. But with those curves that she's famous for, Mrs. Zeta-Jones-Douglas was the picture perfect presentation of what it is to be healthy, fit, and feminine. So strikingly gorgeous, radiantly confident, and kindly smiling she was that I immediately put to rest any trace of envy over her marrying my celebrity crush.

I won't retire my upcoming role of Joan Wilder in "Romancing the Stone," but should that production ever get to rolling, I'll be fine with another actor playing opposite me. I'm more than satisfied with just knowing that Michael and I share in one belief. That being, Catherine Zeta-Jones is the most beautiful woman in the world.

See-Leb Series

When it comes to celebrities, I've been fortunate to have a few claims to fame.

My dad operated on a man whom some might label a rock n' roll legend. An influential icon particularly among punks, he was surprisingly quite thoughtful and he sent our family a personalized Christmas card every year up until the day he died. With respect to HIPPA, I shouldn't state his name but let's just say I was always able to joke that his band's most well-known song was written for my dad. Who else would he be voicing a strong desire to be sedated to? Oh no, did I say too much? Oh NO NO NO NO NO!!!! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

My mom doubled dated with Maria Shriver in high school as well as went out with President Rutherford B. Hayes' grandson. I don't generally share this fact with the public because then my shameful dating record would show some apples do in fact FALL FAR from the tree, and risk rotting the whole orchard too.

During my childhood, I met "the real" Ronald McDonald and I pet "the real" Beethoven. However in retrospect, beneath the face paint and the fur, I think both of these celebrities were guilty of identify theft for promotional purposes.

College involvement with the Republican group allowed me to be wined, dined, and have my books signed with a fair amount of popular politicos, well, actually as Republicans they were more the unpopular politicos but well-received as stars in the Fox News line-up at least... Then through internships in the music and radio industries, I emailed, talked on the phone, and fetched a lot of coffee for A-list artists and bands. And by assuming addresses in both L.A. and New York City, there were run-ins here and there with lime lighted locals.

Then I traveled somewhere else where you not only meet celebrities, but you live day-in-and-day-out with them and you learn their deepest, darkest secrets for a duration of at least 28 days... Yes, rehab is the best place to seek out the stars but the drawback is that those sightings must be kept anonymous. I was only allowed to tell my close family and friends about a couple of them who had told me I could do so. The rest of those identities are a secret shared only with the Higher Power.

Now usually I prefer to avoid any type of celebrity gossip. I find most of the news from "Access Hollywood" and "People" to either be: 1) a staged ploy for publicity, i.e. when something SO SHOCKING happens to a celebrity coincidentally on the eve of their album release/ film opening/ season premier, or 2) borderline harassment, i.e. when the cellulite of celebrities is enlarged and captioned with commentary from a panel of out-of-work comedians, or 3) completely useless, i.e. when a celebrity is caught on film checking the expiration date on a loaf of bread because "OMG! THEY'RE JUST LIKE US!!! THE STARS SHOP AT SUPERMARKETS!? THE STARS EAT STORE-BOUGHT FOOD!?" And while we’re being cynical, let’s quickly criticize the show "I'm a Celebrity, GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I've never watched it but when every contestant’s name has to be followed with a paragraph proving why they are famous, they're not.

All that said, I can't pretend to be above getting all excited when seeing a celebrity in person. I do have a strict "no approach, do not speak unless spoken to" rule because the stars have enough to deal with already on account of the lurking paparazzi, the desperate agencies, and the "AHHHHHH! I'M LIKE YOUR BIGGEST FAN EVER!” And anyway, it’s fun enough to just glance over, make eye contact, smile in a manner that subtly says "yes, I do know who you are and I think your work is brilliant," wait for them to leave, and immediately send out a mass text to all your friends back East detailing what they were wearing and what type of coffee drink they ordered.

Unfortunately for these friends of mine who have all recently requested that I "get rid of that fucking piece of shit cell phone and buy one with a real camera so we can see them," I will be doing so such thing in the interest of both the celebrities and my wallet. However, “a picture is worth a thousand words," right? So I hope it will suffice to write-up the sightings as they come in what will be titled the "See-Leb Series."

Stay tuned...