A step away from famous.

(Note: The admissions in this post may be slightly embarrassing for the writer of this blog. Yet in the interest of honesty and telling the story as it should be, she’s admitting to being a dork.)

Admission #1: I live in Nashville. Where famous people live. Or travel through all the time on press junkets, when they’re recording an album, or in the case of Gywneth Paltrow, making a movie about a country singer. But do I ever see any of these famous people? No. I might be in the same room with them (or the same mall or restaurant) but I never see them. Ever. Other people see famous people at the airport and get their pictures taken with them; if I’ve ever seen someone famous (with the exception of that time Mandisa was on my plane), I haven’t recognized them.

Admission #2: I unabashedly love Baja Burrito, a local burrito restaurant. I. love. it. If it were a man, I’d marry it—or at least the tomatillo salsa. I used to go there several times a week for lunch and I am not lying. I’ve dragged people there for my birthday, before movies, and when I’m just feeling down. Lately, I’ve restarted my goal of making Wednesday afternoons after work and before choir into a time of relaxation for me. After facing stress and insanity with my schedule last year, I came up with the idea of doing something nice for myself on Wednesdays. The goal was to take time out of the week and do something I wanted to do. I wouldn’t go to the gym. I wouldn’t let other people tell me where to be and when. I’d just do something fun for me. Somedays, I go to Fido and have coffee and read a book and/or people-watch. Sometimes, I go by Fido, get coffee, and wander through the used bookstore across the street, running my fingers across the spines of loads and loads of books and greeting them like old friends. In a couple of weeks, I’m getting a haircut. Recently, something I’ve started to do every Wednesday without fail is stop by Baja Burrito on the way home and get a burrito or salad to eat for dinner. I’ve pretty much been doing this for the last month or so and I think they’re beginning to expect me on Wednesday afternoons.

Admission #3: My friend Brandy and I have this running joke that we are failed stalkers. We don’t really mean this in a creepy way, and it somehow connects with Admission #1. We want to see famous people or at least the people we admire and every time we try it ends in ridiculous failure. So here comes a slightly embarrassing story. A few weeks ago on a Wednesday and after a particularly bad day at work, I decided Baja Burrito was a definite stop on the way home. Let’s just say that I looked pretty unattractive that day, was really tired, and starving at 4 p.m. I’d been craving Baja all day but hadn’t had time to get away from work for lunch or the energy to cajole people into going with me. So, Baja was my destination. Before leaving the office, I checked my Twitter feed and saw that a local musician I love (and jokingly refer to as my future husband) had responded to a tweet from Baja Burrito (yes, I follow them on Twitter. See admission #2.) and said he was on his way to Baja Burrito. SO WAS I! This really wouldn’t count as stalking because I was already on my way and his going to Baja didn’t influence the decision. But the prospect! I’d get to see him in the wild! I might get to say hi and that I loved his music. (I’d keep the whole “future husband” thing on the down-low, though.) Needless to say, the whole thing was a failure. I got to Baja, ordered, got my food, salsa and drink and he still wasn’t there. Sad. I’d been so close, yet SO far away.

So yesterday, I went to Baja on my way home from work for the Wednesday usual. And after I got home and had relaxed a bit, I got online. Tweetie, a app I use to update my Twitter feed, said I had new things to read from the people I follow, so I checked it out. And there, in a tweet from Baja Burrito, I read this: Kevin Costner was just up in here.

I missed seeing Kevin Costner at Baja. He’s probably in town recording a record (he has a band or some such) and I know that he’s starred in and produced some very lame movies. But he’s also Ray Kinsella from Field of Dreams. And that counts for something in my book.

Sigh. It appears I’m destined to always be a step away from the famous.