WWND?

I think Natalie Portman's stalking me. I mean, I can understand, I'm something of a celebrity, especially on days when Matthew Yglesias links to my blog. This evening I saw the divine Miss P. walking down the street with a middle-aged woman (her mother?) on the same stretch of the Upper East Side I'd seen her on once before, a few years back. She totally shot me a look, perhaps because I'm now wearing my hair in an approximation of her bob from "Closer" (minus the bangs because, on my non-Natalie self, the bangs didn't look quite right), perhaps because she noticed me looking at her. Or maybe she's the one who keeps getting to this blog by Googling "natalie portman g-string," and she recognized me from the hat picture. In any case, for those fans who may be interested, the buzz cut has grown out slightly. This makes three times I've seen the actress in person, not counting the time I saw her perform in Chekhov in the Park.

Other things I've seen today include a man on the bus acting suspiciously, a number of preppy boys who should probably be in the Hamptons but are maybe a bit disoriented, and, on the Spring Street subway platform, an especially large piece of evidence that the platform now functions as a toilet.