I'm still strapped for time (have to start getting ready soon to go and work on the TV Guide Awards) but I'll start this now (at 11:38am) and finish it when I get home (probably around 10pm). It's going to be a long day.

But wait, there's something else I have to do first. Hold on a sec.

Minutes pass, then hours. Storms cease, merciless winter segues into buoyant spring, then the heat of summer, falling multi-colored leaves of autumn, then winter storms once again. As the cycle of life completes itself once more, our hero returns.

Sorry about that, I had to change the kitty litter. It was smelling pretty rank, but, to the boys' credit, they still continue to use it, their eyes looking at me accusingly as I dash past.

"I promise, I'll change it when I get home," I offer. But, of course, I get home so late that I'm too tired to do much more than do a quick cleaning, check my e-mail, watch a little tv, then crash for the night. And so, good boys that they are, they continue to use the foul litter box while meowing in protest.

Frankly, I'm surprised I don't wake up to one of them pissing on my head.

11:30 PM

I lied, I don't think I'll be recounting the Tucson trip today. I'm just too tired.

I got home from the TV Guide Awards by 8:30pm, but my legs were aching pretty badly (standing for three hours, plus several long walks to and from the parking structure in the cold will do that to a person) and all I wanted to do was curl up on my loveseat and watch The Golden Spiders on A & E.

(I'm a Nero Wolfe reader from way back, plus I've always liked Timothy Hutton [used to have crushes on first his father, Jim Hutton and then him]. I rather enjoyed it, and Timothy is as cute and enjoyable to watch as ever.)

The show was fun, though, and I'm glad I worked it. I wasn't assigned as a talent escort, unfortunately, but I did get to see Mike Farrell and his lovely wife, Shelley Fabares (though they weren't close to where I was posted *pout*).

Of course, after the show, every page that knows me well came up to me asked, "So, did you see him?" Yes, yes, I saw him. He looked great, yes, I know he's tall, no, I didn't get to talk to him.

However, I was near the incredibly delectable Henry Simmons and helped him and his talent escort find his seat. Just as scrumptious in person. He's also quite tall.

(I also helped some other stars, including Robert Guillaume and his son when there was a mix-up with their seats. That was extremely cool, and his son is a very classy man, even giving up his coat for a seat filler who was freezing in the air-conditioned auditorium, as well as picking out a piece of paper that had somehow gotten into my hair.)

A fun show, but it took a lot out of me. Tomorrow night I promise to write about Tucson.

Tune into...

Uh-oh. These two are now living in the same town. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
(You know you wanted to read this entry again.)