Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Ahh, ahhhh, Anderson...
My fascination with Anderson Cooper began more than a year ago. I get the kids to sleep, and settle myself down on the couch for the nightly fix at 10pm with a live hour of eye candy, commonly known as AC360. During that hour, I admire his smile, his perfect hair style (never mind that he is gray), his voice, and his suits. He takes me to places like Afghanistan, where he wears expensive military shirt replicas and bullet proof vests. Next, the Amazon rain forest in tight navy blue t-shirts, his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Then, the streets of New York in jeans that only a former male model can wear so well. My mind squeals like a schoolgirl, drifting off to sleep (on the couch) lulled into dreamland by his steady vocal tones. I begin to dream...because situations like this only exist in dreams.
I am attending a high profile cocktail party, in Manhattan. Delegates from all over the world are here. I am dressed in five inch heels and a black cocktail gown to die for. I drain the last drops of gin from my martini glass and reach for another from the tray of a passing waiter. It is the last one on the tray, and is taken by a hand with well groomed nails. "Last one. Looks as if we'll have to share". The glass raises to perfect lips, and I watch them sip. The glass lowers to reveal the crooked smile of Anderson Cooper!!! Oh yeah! This dream is going to be good, I remember thinking to myself.
I'll spare you all the fan-girl wank fiction and just skim the highlights...
The dream continues with him asking me for my cell number. Hahahaha! He was pursuing me! How easy!
We go out often, always perfectly attired. Dinner, movies, drinks, CNN functions. Limo rides and paparazzi are the norm. The annoying thing was that my Blackberry (oh, yeah, this is SO a dream) was constantly ringing. I was always frowning at the ringing interruption, frequently muting the tone, deleting text messages (I hardly ever text in real life). This happened so often, Anderson began asking why I never answered it. I would just shrug it off, saying it wasn't important.
During our long, laid-back weekend in the Hampton's, the Blackberry rang NON-STOP. Finally, after an intense, ah, sexual encounter...one which was literally torn from the pages of some chic-lit clit fest anthology....Anderson grabbed my Blackberry (haha you thought I was gonna say something else, didn't you?!) and hit redial. The name on the display said "James".
"Yes, hello. No, this isn't Camie, it's Anderson Cooper. Yes, from CNN. No, she didn't change her number, maybe she should, she obviously doesn't want to talk to you. May I ask who you are? I see. Um, okay. I'll give her the message".
Anderson hung up the phone, looked into my horrified eyes and said "That was James McAvoy, you know, your BOYFRIEND. He said to tell you not to bother calling him back since after hearing my voice, he is BREAKING UP with you. Now, where were we?" He thew the Blackberry on the floor and crawled back into bead
Ahh, ahhh, Anderson....
...and last nights dream....
naked, in a pool, getting a massage by Matt Lauer!!
I must have been tense, knowing that I was cheating on Anderson with someone from another network.