*On a scale of 1-10, just how pathetic and embarassing is this? I was talking to the guy who programs the glorious art theatre across the street this morning. I saw that they had a poster up for the new Claire Danes/Billy Crudup film "Stage Beauty." I asked him about it and he told me that, while he can't announce it yet, Claire is going to come and introduce a showing in a couple of weeks (along with the editor of Premiere about whom I couldn't care less).

Ladies and gentlemen, I squealed. Involuntarily. As if by reflex. Like giddy schoolgirl. I, of course, *heart* Claire Danes.

I quickly saved face (oh, who am I kidding) by telling him that I'd be back at 4:30 to see the Ramones doc.

*Hey, the Target down the street opens today. Mass chaos and enthusiasm will follow. I should certainly check it out.

*Note to the dude sitting next to me at the mediocre Park Place Diner this morning. I wore Polo cologne, too. In 1982. Even then I didn't bathe in it. It was hard enough choking down runny scrambled eggs without your foul stench.