The entire time we were in New York, I was keeping my eyes peeled for celebrities. I mean, hey, I live in Gainesville — we get excited when we see one of the college athletes around here. Alas, there were no famous faces to be found. And why? Obviously, they were all in Fenton, Michigan. Of course.

We just got back from spending a few days with my cousin Jen, her husband Dave, and their daughter (and my goddaughter), Jorie, and it was only when we got to Fenton that we saw a celebrity. And, for the record, you shouldn’t be worrying that you don’t recognize the town. I lived in Michigan for 20 years and hadn’t heard of it.

Anyway, we went to a restaurant called The French Laundry (seriously, if you’re ever just south of The Thumb, you MUST GO. But, I digress. We went on Friday night, had a lot of really good wine, beer, and yummy, yummy food, and saw … Matthew Lillard! Okay, maybe not an A-lister, but WE WERE IN FENTON. I thought, as such a big-time blogger, I’d be the most famous one there, you know (she said, tongue planted firmly in cheek)?

And he wasn’t the only famous face to grace The French Laundry in recent days — earlier that week, Cedric the Entertainer was apparently there with his (very rude) entourage. Matthew Lillard, by the way, totally cool, just hanging with, like, five friends in the corner, being less obnoxious than I was. But it’s not my fault — my cousin is a wine pusher, and I’d had, like, two bottles of wine throughout the day before we even left for the restaurant. Not. My. Fault.