And Ronson, too. Photo by Heather, who managed to get much closer than I did. Lindsay was NOT wearing leggings -- or even any leggings-esque jeans -- which is probably good because who knows what we would have said to her if we could have gotten her attention. Oh, let's be honest: it probably would have been something like, "Your shoes are awesome." The crush of paparazzi around the lovebirds was a sight to behold. You can read all about it here.
What else did we do today, other than stalk Lindsay Lohan, you ask? We swam through a tropical storm, took shelter in many of Manhattan's finest bars, and:
-- Observed a way-cranky Andy Roddick, whose post-US Open loss funk could not be lifted even by Chuck Bass-esque menswear at Lacoste.
-- Decided we saw Evangeline Lilly in ugly pants at Rosa Cha. Now we're not sure it was her. But it might have been. Oh, eyesight. Why have you forshaken us? Also at the same event, we managed not to run over to Zoe Saldana and scream, "I'm the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy. Who the hell are you?"
-- Had our first glimpse of A Dubs, who was wearing a sweater and a coat in 135-degree heat and 100% humidity and yet never broke a sweat, because she has ice water in her veins.
-- Underwent tragic umbrella-stealage and less-tragic Becki Newton-stalkage at Vena Cava.
-- And finally, we ogled the boys from Gossip Girl and floated a theory as to why Mary-Kate Olsen suddenly looks....well, really cute and totally clean.
