You cannot take me anywhere.
I honestly have no real certainty what is even happening here.
To be fair, I had spent the thirty minutes prior having my blood pressure taken (it’s good!), having a blood draw (it only took four tries to find a usable vein), having my upper body strength tested (newsflash: I have spaghetti arms and no strength in them), and having by body-fat percentage taken (which included an awkward removal of my tights moment since the scale required bare feet) (but I got a giant high five for my body fat percentage, which means I might be spending this afternoon swimming in baked goods) (22% baby!) and then it was all:
Oh hey! It’s Rick Bayless over there having a normal conversation with a normal person about something important like fresh, colorful ingredients and then all of a sudden I’m starting a very un-normal photo-op conga line. “Hey everyone! Come on over and have your picture taken with Rick Bayless! He’s like a much cuter version and more petite version of the mall Santa! Let’s make sure that no babies cry today, though!”
*Shakes head in shame*
The funny thing is that while I’m all “Oh hey! It’s Rick Bayless! He’s kind of awesome, I’d like to meet him and eat some of his delicious-looking Mexican food,” it’s not like it was Adrien Brody. You see, typically, I have a very starsthey’rejustlikeus attitude in that I don’t really get all that starstruck and kind of like the idea of leaving celebrities alone to do their thing in those moments when they are just trying to do their thing. There are only a handful of people these days that would make me do that “Ermahgerd! It’s _______! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MARRY ME!”
Adrien Brody. Jon Hamm. Leslie Mann. Sean Penn. Amy Poehler. Stringer Bell. Jeff Probst. Frances McDormand. Jude Law. Liam Neeson. Daniel Day-Lewis. At least one of the Olsen twins. Probably, um, Luke Perry.
(I mean, who would make *you* all weak in the knees?)
So, yes, I don’t get all that starstruck. But it seems that I really shouldn’t be allowed near any kind of celebrity chefs just after having a blood draw and just after having to remove my tights in public. It’s not pretty.