Oh. Hello!

I truly believe this December was the busiest December in the history of Decembers. Normally I'm a bit sad when the holidays end, but not this time. Nope. I am so, so thrilled they're over, and I can't wait for spring and sunshine and shorts and flip flops. I'm done with sweaters, scarfs and boots. Done.

Christmas was... Christmas. I received some nice gifts. My favorite gifts: a teapot, The Two Towers DVD, and a fluffy, pink chenille robe. My God, do I love that robe. I'm constantly wearing it around the house. Which I'm sure D finds attractive.

I feel I should also mention the MP3 player and the exercise balance ball I received. They are both very worthy and good gifts, and they remind me of exercise. (The MP3 player because it'll be cool to take to the gym, in case you were wondering about the exercise connection.) I have this grandiose plan to be in the best shape of my life by the time I turn 30 in May so I don't sink into depression and kill myself.

Between Christmas shopping, moving, unpacking and trying to get the home office thing up and running, I managed, miraculously, to go out to lunch a few times. One of those lunches involved two star sightings.

D took me to eat lunch on the Warner Bros. lot, and almost immediately upon our arrival, Matt LeBlanc came around a corner toward us.

I must confess that up until that moment I'd been inclined to think ill of him, because about 4 years ago I saw him be slightly rude to a KTLA reporter (Yes, that was enough to harden my heart against him.) However, the day we saw him on the lot, he smiled so sweetly and charmingly at us that those ill feelings instantly vanished. (I'm weak, damn it. What can I say? I am not made of stone.)

After the Matt sighting we ate lunch at the fancy schmancy restaurant on the lot, and who was sitting one table away from us? George Clooney, that's who.

Damn, that man is fine.

OK, I know. I've never been a huge fan, but I'm telling you, in person, Mr. Clooney is just beautiful. He sat with a large group of people and ate some sort of sandwich. (Good description, huh? Don't you almost feel as though you were there?)

Everyone at the table laughed loudly and heartily at almost everything he said, which I found quite amusing. It's possible that he was cracking some good jokes, but I kind of doubt it. The people at his table probably would have laughed at anything he said. And you know what? If I was sitting at that table, I probably would have laughed it up, too. Just to be completely honest.

When they left, D goes, "Check it out. That's George Clooney's dirty napkin. If you wanted to, you could snag it and sell it on Ebay."

"Uh, no," I said. "George Clooney's napkin doesn't interest me enough to make a fool of myself in this restaurant."

But if it had been Keanu's napkin? Hell YEAH. Or Orlando Bloom's napkin? HELL yeah. But I wouldn't sell either of those napkins on Ebay. I'd rub them all over my naked body and then frame them and hang them in my bedroom.

And yes, I am 16 years old, and yes, I still read Tiger Beat.