In Which I Lock Eyes with BJ Novak

I'm in New York. Most of you know that, I guess, because I know most of you and at about 12:30 this morning I texted you with a lot of exclamation points and a blurry photo of the back of a dude's head. 

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That dude was BJ Novak, spoiler alert, and I may as well have just won a $1 million dollar lottery. This weekend, the MoMA kept the Matisse Cut Outs exhibition open for 24/7 Friday-Sunday. Tom and I got ourselves midnight tickets, because why wouldn't you visit a beloved museum after-hours? Have you read From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

About half of the population of NYC had the same idea we did because the vibe was pretty sardine-like up in that exhibition space. I was standing in one spot, sort of rotating on an axis so as to not have to touch anyone (I mean, come on) and I rotated right into the eyeline of BJ Novak, there he was, looking at me looking at him and registering the fact that he was, in fact, BJ Novak. I bet celebrities get this a lot - the seconds-long recognition process of strangers on the street. Like, you definitely look at strangers all day, right? You look at each other, sometimes you smile sometimes you don't, whatever, it happens because you're an alive person. With a celeb, though, someone probably looks at you in that "I'm looking at you right now but am going to look away in a second and never remember you again" except that look is immediately followed up with the "wait a SECOND now hold ON my brain is doing some extra work here and YEP I KNOW WHO YOU ARE." And if you're a me, that look of recognition is followed up with a Tom Haverford grin and quick twirl away. Like, super dramatic and obvious. I stared at him, I mean really STARED at him and we were probably 8 feet away from each other and there wasn't no way in his brain I wasn't gonna march over to him and jump into his arms. 

Guess what though, BJ Novak? I was NOT gonna jump into your arms, you conceited little shit. Just kidding, I love you. I did take some time to collect myself, I mean really get my thoughts together. I needed a plan this wasn't some willy nilly, just be cool kind of situation. No, BJ Novak requires grace under pressure, composure and most of all WIT. With all this in mind (just get a load of this) while we were both standing looking at the same cut out (more on the art later, that was cool too, I promise), I walked over to him and said something like this: "I just wanted to say I love The Office and the Mindy Project [ed note: He's not on that show].... I've bought your book for a friend's daughter and I just think it's so cool. It's kind of embarrassing to read out loud [ed note: WHAT THE FUCK, MEGAN?] but I guess that's the point. So, thanks." he said "Oh wow thank you so much, thanks. Yeah the book is meant to make the kids laugh so it's a bit silly yeah thanks". That's how it went, for the most part. After Tom and I met back up in a gallery a few minutes later he informed me that he told BJ Novak that he "made my wife's night" so basically, BJ Novak you're WELCOME you have your first STALKER. 

Here's the other thing, he was with Zoe Kazan, who I just watched in the delightful little gem of a film, What If, with Daniel Radcliffe. It was so much celebrity and if you know me you know so much celebrity is basically all I need to die happy. Here I am still alive though, so bonus I reckon. 

When Tom and I arrived in the city on Friday evening, he said to me "Which celebrities do you think you'll see this weekend?" and I exclaimed "ALL OF THEM!". I didn't see all of them, but I did see Ryan.