Confidential to my friends at the Oscars

Please tell me you watched last night's Emmy broadcast. Because, seriously? That, my friends, is how to make an awards show enjoyable. (It doesn't hurt that Neil Patrick Harris is both incredibly witty and adorable. I no longer resent being compared to Doogie Howser.)

It was fast-paced. It was funny, often in unexpected ways. (The guy who did the "color commentary," who also plays the PC in those Mac commercials, provided consistent chuckles.) Jimmy Fallon, of whom I am usually no great fan, had the Better Half and me literally crying with laughter during his little bit of high-tech physical comedy. While I don't know what the point of giving "Reality" its own bit was, considering there were only two awards in that category (and better luck next year, Heidi), the concept if handing out awards by genre was inspired.

For dish on the dresses, I defer to the brilliant minds at Go Fug Yourself.

Shamelessly name-dropping update: Oh, what the hell. What's the point of having once rubbed elbows with the famous if you're not going to milk it a little? Having met both Kristen Chenoweth and Cherry Jones (twice!) when I lived in New York City (and both of them were very nice, especially the latter who actually took the time to have a real conversation with me both times I met her, despite my being a complete nobody), I am very happy that both of them took home trophies.