I saw this person yesterday in my neighborhood Rite-Aid.
I live in Los Angeles. I have worked in theatre or 'the industry' for most of my adult life. I am used to seeing celebrities and I pride myself on treating them like normal people. Which means, unless I actually KNOW them personally, I don't act like I know them, know what I mean? A roommate of mine once saw Courteney Cox at a restaurant and their eyes met across the room. My roommate told me that Courteney's look said "yes, I am a Friend, but I am not YOUR friend." Which is true and to me, sad that she has to have that armour up even while eating dinner. Anyway, my point here is--I don't approach celebrities. I don't stare (at least not obviously). I don't ask for autographs. I respect their privacy.
But yesterday in the Rite-Aid, I wanted to talk to Nia Vardalos so badly. All because of this essay she wrote in the Huffington Post last month.
For a variety of reasons, The Esquire and I never really considered domestic adoption. So I have to admit I don't know a lot about it...only what I hear from other people. Which means I've heard both horror stories and fairy tale endings. I am not an advocate for International Adoption over Domestic ... I am an advocate of choosing the route that is best for your family.
Like I said, I don't know much about domestic adoption or FostAdopt. And I don't know if Nia Vardalos's experience is typical. I just really admire that she wrote about it, and that she's trying to shed some light on what seems to be a very complicated system. I know how much reading blogs by other people adopting from Ethiopia means to me, so I can only assume this essay is just as helpful to families in the FostAdopt program. And after all, isn't that what it's all about...sharing our experiences with the hope that it helps someone else?
So when I saw her in the drug store, with her daughter, I wanted so badly to say something... "nice article"... "good job"... "we're adopting too"... but in the end I figured the nicest thing I could do for her was to just let her continue having a normal day at the Rite-Aid with her daughter.