__________.

OMG. Not only did I step out of the way for David Spade, almost maim Danny DeVito, watch my boyfriend get checked out by Mia Maestra, touch two people who have touched Michael Vartan, breathe the same air as Joshua Radin, shop at the Gap with the girl from Signs, but now -- to top it off -- I have followed __________. That's right. You heard me.

On our way back from Portland at 11:30 on Friday night, Ryan and I hit a wall o' traffic just north of 205. It was stopped dead. We, of course, assumed it was an accident (Ryan had odds on "drunk and under 25"). I made him pull to the right of the lane so I could crane my neck to see what I could see -- which was a crapload of police lights. Then, (twenty minutes later and) all of a sudden all three lanes started moving. We drove forward expecting to see something - like debris or flares -- but there was nothing.

...Until we began noticing that there were cop cars turning off their lights at every single exit. And the flashing lights were always in the distance ahead of us. We worked our way up and, sure enough, it was __________'s motorcade. Likewhoa. All the exits were being blocked so that __________ could have the freeway free of gaping/gawking/armed spectators. (Selfish prick. I wanted to go home!)

We followed the lights until the parkway, where we took our leave. We figured __________ would be staying at the Phoenix Grand, because, well, wth else would __________ stay? (And, please, like there's anywhere to go in Oregon south of Salem.) I mean, seriously... where did people like __________ stay before we had that hotel? The HoJo? Commercial was clear when we drove by, but when we turned off later we saw that there were cops blocking Liberty.

So, to make a long story short...

Anyone want to touch me so that they can brag to their friends?