Seems like everyone I know who lives in the West Village (well, my sisters at least) have seen Julianne Moore at least once. I've always lamtented that I never had the honor--until yesterday, that is. As I walked down West 11th, I noticed a blonde, smiling woman leaving her beautiful brownstone with a bright red door. I did a double-take a saw that it was JM, somewhat disguised because of her lighter locks (for a movie, I think). As she walked out, she yelled across the street to a man at a garage (whom she presumably was friendly with) about the heat and how she had to go run some errands. I wanted to say, "yeah it is hot and guess what...I'm running errands, too!" But I kept my mouth shut--and kept walking.
A little later on, as Leezie and I popped into a Four-Bucks after Sam's checkup (he's healthy as a horse and growing by the minute!), we spotted Oksana Baul! Again, we were tempted to chat her up (I mean, how many fans does she really have anymore! She probably would be flattered!). But alas, the she was immersed in a conversation with two other women and looked a little ragged in a faux Juicy track suit and cheap-o Chinatown slippers. We noted she had an Ace bandage on one ankle--nursing a skating injury, perhaps?
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