Soap Star (Silk?) Stalking - JumpinJewess Embarrasses Herself Once Again, and Loves It!

Another Sat. night, another marginal celeb sighting. Unfortunately, I did not meet another porn star with XL cojones, but this was fine for the neighborhood hangout.

So, I'm at Prohibition to say goodbye to a good friend who is making Aliyah (she will be missed), an always fun and raucous bar with a live band. (Very good this week - great lip curling by the lead singer and killah Bon Jovi, Guns 'N' Roses song selection.) As I headed to the back for the party, I noticed a preponderance of fellow revelers with obvious plastic surgery and pretty, artificial looks, but I just wrote it off. NY is Botox-Land after all.

However, my more eagle-eyed friend arrived and told me that the plastic people were indeed soap stars. Hurrah! Let the stalking begin - off I went. However, the main guy we wanted to see, who was supposedly HAWT, seemed to have left. I was mildly disappointed; it would have been fun to meet him but what do I care about soaps, fa'shizzle? I'm much too busy watching 'The UFO Files' to care and anyhoo, just who is home in the middle of the day?

Despite my silly attempt at pretending I didn't care, you can imagine my joy when we bumped into a bona fide soap star - one Michael Easton - on our way to the bathroom. He was smoldering, as a soap star should be, with flared nostrils, a faux bad-ass leather jacket, and fluffy bad-boy hair. Of course, I pranced right over to him and literally said:

JJ: (in purr) "Hiiiiiiiiii......I'm JJ and this is my friend. We tried to stalk you upstairs and were foiled. And now here you are!"

Michael took it remarkably well and I sashayed off, pleased with my new connection to the soap world. Turns out though, that despite his good looks, he wasn't the original soap star (supposedly '100 times cuter' according to my friend) I tried to locate. Good heavens - how will I survive???? In the meantime, I will stare obsessively at Michael's fan pic and hope that through the sheer force of my will, he will magically appear at my door tonight, with a bouquet in one hand, Gan Asia in the other, telling me I am his Yiddishe Valentine.