Alec Baldwin

I was with my brood (yeah, I have a brood now. 2 dogs, Meesh and the baby) at JFK airport. Meesh was carrying Evvy and I, on the other wicked full hand, was carrying two dogs in their dog bags, three suitcases, a computer bag and my diaper bag (which is so dope! messenger bag circa my NYU days. Makes me feel mad young...mad youngerrr) and the only thing not in my hands or strapped to my shoulders was the airplane we were about to fly out on. The airplane that, we would learn in just moments, was also be passengered by Alec Baldwin. First of all, he called his daughter a Rude Little Pig which, in his family, obviously means "gorgeous, lithe-bodied girl" because that daughter (or as my black friends oft say, dorrrterrr) is beautiful. We only have a few actor obsessions in our brood and Alec Baldwin is one of them.

He stood right behind us in the security check-in line (insert queer tabloid headline here: Alec Baldwin Goes Thru Security Too!!) and his blue eyes twinkled, his mouth turned into a sneaky smile and he said to me "how is it being a mule? She gets to carry something lovely and you...well...everything else that exists. Feels good, huh?" Well, as my Mom would say "That was it...my window...he gave me a window and I wasn't not going to jump through it." And so it was, indeed, my window. I wanted to ask him for his facebook friendship but I played it cool. I said "I should have a masseuse following me." He said "on Twitter?" We laughedddd!!

He sat a few rows ahead of us on the airplane. We had a few winks. We said goodbye when the plane landed in L.A. You know, the way super close friends do. He said Twitter...ohhh that Alec Baldwin.