Are you there Oscar? It's me, Emily.

Last night was the long anticipated fashion event of the season.

Oscar Night.

I don't know if you saw me.




I know, you can hardly recognize me. Those Hollywood makeup artists are like magicians, I tell you!

You're probably asking yourself right now, "Who is she wearing?!"

Let me tell you. I'm donning a one of a kind masterpiece from Oscar de la Renta. After all, it IS the Oscars. It would be weird to show up at the Oscars wearing Calvin Klein. Or Vera Wang. It's not the Calvins. Or the Veras.

After waltzing my way down the red carpet, I found my way to my seat, where I sat in antipation for the oh, so coveted, "Best Performance as a Backdrop to an Interview Between Matt Lauer and a Former Olympic Champion," award. It's bigger than Best Picture.

In the moment between the naming of the nominees, and the announcement of my name, I don't have much recollection of what happened. I remember digging through my diamond clutch for my Blistex lipbalm, and I remember asking Tom Hanks, who was sitting beside me, if he had a stick of gum, but I don't remember much after that.

Next thing I knew, I was standing on stage, holding Oscar, and naming everyone I ever knew. From my bus driver in elementary school, to the friendly checker who helps me at the grocery store. Even when the subtle, "Get off the stage!" music was cued, I continued to talk. I had to be sure and thank the Culligan man who checked our water softener once a year growing up. Thanks to him, my complexion is flawless.

Not wanting to miss out on any sleep, I decided to forgo the Vanity Fair afterparty, and instead, headed home. Afterall, we did have school today, and I don't think I could teach another whole week after pulling an all-nighter. I'm still recovering from the first one. Though, that's what destined me for the Oscars to begin with, so thank you, Ms. Allnighter.

The dress has been stored away, and the jewelry is back at Tiffany & Co. where it belongs. Oscar is standing nicely on a shelf; intertwined with pictures of the bros and me, and spring decor. Nothing says, "Spring has sprung!" like Mr. Oscar.

Until next awards season...