You might think that after living in Southern California for so many years that I am impervious to being rendered star struck. You would be wrong though. Seeing Ryan Seacrest at our favorite cafe regularly did nothing for me (honestly if Ryan Seacrest makes you weak in the knees, we need to talk), shopping alongside Nicole Ritchie...nothing. (Ok, I lie a little bit, she was really cool. And also, she was shopping while I was holding a scarf no thicker than my thumb thinking that even if I had two grand to buy it, I wouldn't.)
There is one thing that leaves me speechless and star struck. Washington, D.C.