freaking out

This just in: People in Hollywood are ruining my best party ever.

Perhaps I am overstating the situation, and I suppose I'm being unsympathetic to the writers who probably have very good reasons for ruining my party their work stoppage. It's just that I so look forward to the fun of the Oscars - I get to wear my $13-on-clearance-at-Sears black taffeta & satin long skirt and put out my 'red carpet' (two table runners found at Goodwill) and print ballots for everyone to vote on the awards and have a table full of decadent finger foods & desserts served on pretty bronze glass plates and sweet white & gold china saucers and give little prizes & SWAG bags to my fabulous friends. All of that hard work...down the drain. And for what? Some writers not getting enough money. Geez. It's like they're not even thinking of us.