Last weekend my boyfriend and I head over to Vanderbilt for his homecoming weekend. It was like I walked onto a movie set. Frat row was swarming. Front lawns were overflowing with people, music and beer. Kids were walking down the sidewalks with drinks. I sat on a bench, sipped a lemonade and felt OLD.
We head to the tailgate party. Vanderbilt class of ’68 is there in full force. I don’t feel so old anymore. We find a seat at a table with a guy my boyfriend used to live with. Across the table is a couple he doesn’t know. But that guy won’t let that last long. He offers,
“We live in LA in the Palisades, that’s where all the stars live. The paparazzi are going by all the time. They were following Spielberg the other day.”
My only regret from this dinner long conversation is that I didn’t keep a tally of how many famous people this guy name-dropped.
The guy continues,
“So Jessica, you’re from Boston? Matt Damon lives up the street from us. The other day we were at the park with our kids, the same park that Ben Affleck takes his kids to, and they were all wearing Boston Red Sox gear.”
Yeah and the other day, I walked by Harvard, that’s where Obama went and then I got a coffee.