I just stare at the book in my lap as the people around me get settled into their seats. They might be going about their life, free of cares, or maybe full of fears since we are on a plane. But all I’m focused on is whether or not Neil Patrick Harris is sitting right next to me.

But famous people have their own planes and jets. Or they have enough money they can pay to have wings attached to their bodies to get where they need to go. Neil Patrick Harris could do that. Except he would then get the wings removed and then do something generous, like donate those wings to the flightless. These were my thoughts as I still stared at the book in my lap.

After a few unavoidably creepy sidelong glances, I accepted that I was sitting next to a man who has hosted the Oscars. This is amazing. I thought to myself. How many people get the chance to sit with a celebrity for an hour and a half. This will be so fun. We will have some interesting conversation and he will remember me in a talk show with Ellen and then Ellen will want to meet me and then I will get invited to go on Ellen. Everything was coming together, I thought as I watched Mr. Harris put his headphones in his ears.

But wait! Interesting conversation can’t happen under these conditions! I can’t say anything now because then it goes from me being a charming fan to an annoying plane companion.

When I was thinking all hope was lost for any interaction, some man (with more balls than me apparently) grabs Mr. Harris’s attention and asks if he is who he is. Wouldn’t that be a weird question? I thought it would have been but I guess it was this other guy's perfect icebreaker. When Mr. Harris confirms that he is, in fact, Neil Patrick Harris, the man smiles and tells him how his wife is such a big fan of his and asks if he can take a picture. Of course, Mr. Harris nods but then he just looks away and goes back to what he was doing instead of looking at the camera for his picture. Well, that was a little weird. Maybe that’s how famous people deal with pictures from random strangers. Wouldn’t want a fight to break out to get a picture of the man who made the word “legendary” well... legendary!

For the whole flight, I have my book out but I haven’t read a single page from it. I’m thinking of the conversation Mr. Harris and I could be having. It’s a great conversation in my head. I’m cracking jokes, he’s laughing and asking about my life story because, obviously, I would be the more interesting one. All this is going on in my head while out in the real world, I’m still trying to sneak a peek at his phone to see what his screen saver picture is.

The voice on the intercom says we will be experiencing turbulence. I had heard before that this was nothing to be afraid of. They were just like little speed bumps. Trying to sound like I was so used to being on a plane I sarcastically say, “Yay, I love speed bumps.” Then Mr. Harris, without his earphones in his ears, just laughs and smiles at my comment. This makes me happier than I care to admit. Neil Patrick Harris laughed at something I said. I feel like we were then on the level of friendship where I can call him Neil now.

I even got the confidence to ask good ol’ Neil directions in the LAX airport. He kindly tells me and I am truly directionally challenged so I ask more questions, which lead to, dare I want to say, a conversation. I think it was a pretty good conversation. And now I am still awaiting my invitation to be on Ellen.