The Emmy afternoon was a scorcher. Everyone was stopping at my booth because I was giving out water.  Whenever the camera was off I was throwing water down some celebrity’s cleavage. 

And in that heat there was Ellen Pompeo wearing a VELVET DRESS! Unless she was going directly from there to entertain the troops in Alaska, what was she thinking?  That is called, "Where is your stylist?" Oh, and how about Candice Bergen? She's beautiful, tall, and RICH. Rich on her own, rich from the last husband, and married to one of the richest real estate guys in New York City. She looked like a gay cowboy.  I never saw anything like it.  I thought she was dressed in costume for a skit with Conan.

Kyra Sedgwick, the hot star of "The Closer" also beautiful but looked like an idiot. She had everything hanging from that dress but a radio and O.J. Simpson. She had frills, pleats, flowers, tucks, a ball gown with a train. Even Scarlett O'Hara didn't have that.  

I was so scared that my 1,000th interview would be someone like the tenth down star from "Malcolm in the Middle." When Debra Messing showed up I was thrilled. She was excited about winning the (ahem) statuette TV Guide had made. The TV Guide Channel is wonderful, but like all the networks these days, in some ways they're cheap as hell. The statuette looked like a vibrator. I expected to see an on/off switch. But Debra loved it and TV Guide more than made up for it by donating $10,000 to the charity of Debra's choice.

People always say to me, "Aren't you tired of doing this?" No way.  It's like a giant cocktail party. You see a lot of people you love but you only have three minutes of conversation with them. It's perfect. And best of all, our ratings were up 65 percent from last year. THANK GOD people are finally finding the TV Guide Channel. 

Getting ready for the Emmys is work.  It's not all glamour and show biz glitz.  The Academy sends you (well, me) a book--and I mean a BOOK!  It must be at least 500 pages, with names and bios and facts about every nominee in every category. It's like studying for the SATs all over again. It is so damn difficult.

The Awards are happening this Sunday. And they take place in Los Angeles, in the afternoon.  I mean, there I am outside the Shrine Auditorium at 3 o'clock in the hot sun, in beads, in full makeup, and saying to strangers, "Come over here, I want to talk to you." It's like being a hooker in Boca! 

And this year there's a lot of excitement at the TV Guide Channel because I'm coming up on my 1,000th interview. I'm scared to death that it's going to be with somebody who's not somebody.  You know, somebody like the chef who makes the dinners afterwards or the girl who stuffs the goodie bags. And you can't say to Sarah Jessica Parker, "Could you please just wait here for 20 minutes so you can be my 1,000th?"   I just hope whoever it is will be wearing a name tag.

My grandson, Cooper, has come to visit for the weekend and you’d think it was the king of England. I mean my whole house in the country has been turned around.  It’s filled with frozen pizzas and Oreos and ice cream sandwiches and games, games, and more games.

He’s got Big Mozart, Little Mozart, how to improve your memory games, how to think like Einstein games, 37 card tricks, 49 magic tricks, coloring books, puzzle books, video games. (Whatever happened to a pot and a spoon?)   The kid has no time to sleep! 

I’m very into my garden these days.  I’m the only person in my neighborhood who’s happy when they say, “The weekend is going to be a rainy one.”  Once you become a gardener it’s all about... PLEASE GOD LET IT RAIN!

Lately, I've been walking around and thinking about Rain-Dancing. 

Who knows? It may have possibilities.

Melissa was in New York this week with the NB (New Boyfriend), who grandma (moi) thinks is FAB-U-LOUS!  His name is John. Unfortunately, that was the name of Melissa's Ex. So, to avoid confusion, I refer to him as Good John.

       I took Good John downtown to the fringe festival, which makes Off Broadway look like Lincoln Center. Well, this man had never seen anything like it.  I took him to places the terrorists would have thought they bombed already. 

     He was thrilled.  He had the best time.  We went to see Mike's Incredible Indian Adventure. It's a one man show about this guy filming an American theater troupe doing a Neil Simon Play (They're Playing Our Song) on a tour of India.  It was absolutely hilarious.  We loved it.  If you get a chance, go see it. I guarantee you'll love it, too.

I have to tell you what happened on Regis and Kelly yesterday.   While I was backstage, I walked into the dressing room and there was Hilary Duff.  Wow.

She looked terrific.  So pretty--so thin--so adorably chic. Her hair looked great. Her dress looked great. Her makeup was flawless. We laughed and we talked and then it was time for her to go on the air. 

So what does she do?  She puts a hat on! A hat on over this absolutely gorgeous hair that the hairdresser had coiffed to perfection.  I couldn't believe it.  She went out on stage wearing a hat.

When she came off I had to ask her, “Hilary, Why the hat?” And--are you ready for this?--with a completely straight face she said, “I was having a bad hair day.” 

We should all have that kind of a bad hair day.  

I watched the Miss Teen USA contest last night because Melissa was one of the judges. Did you see it? These were teenaged girls and they all looked liked Pamela Andersons in training!

Whatever happened to that nice teenaged girl you went to school with?  You know…she was a little chubby, not quite sure of herself?  She didn’t know you were supposed to have boobs to flaunt while putting your tongue out and licking your lips.

These contestants were not sweet teens  who had crushes on movie stars and were going home to do Algebra homework. Melissa looked younger than all of them!

 The winner was eighteen years old.  The cutoff should be sixteen. Teenagers should look like teenagers. Whatever happened to Donny and Marie? (Okay, never mind). All I can say is that I was in shock. And I think anyone who watched the show would have to be, too.

If someone had told me a few years ago that when I was 73 I’d have a blog, I would have said, “Well, then I’ll get it removed.”  What did I know? It sounded like a growth.  (There was even a brief period when I thought “blogging” was some sort of sexual activity that had passed me by.)

I’m still not Internet savvy by any means. You’re more likely to spot Mel Gibson in a synagogue than me in front of a computer. But when I learned there was a way for me to say what I wanted to say when I wanted to say it, share my thoughts, opinions, observations and even photos, with...well, with the world—and get feedback—I knew I wanted a Blog of my own and was determined to get it.

And now I have it!   

Check it out from time to time and let me know what you think.