We interrupt tonight's entertainment

Bad cold. Cough. It's time like this I turn to my secret boyfriend:

Famous Author Interview: Margaret Finnegan

Margaret Finnegan is the author of the acclaimed (by her mother) novel The Goddess Lounge.  We talked to her in her spacious (when compared to a tent) home, where she served us Venus nipple cocktails and shrimp on a stick.

Intrepid reporter: Margaret, now that your novel, The Goddess Lounge, is touching the lives of literally DOZENS, how has your life changed?

MF: It's been a whirlwind!  Just the other day my brother-in-law said, "Congratulations!  You must be so excited."  To which I replied, "Shut up!  Leave me alone.  I'm not listening."  And then I hid in the garage.

IR: Ha, ha.  You are so funny.  Were you always this funny?

MF: No really. I hid in the garage, and somehow it got locked, and they only found me when they needed to do laundry, which was disappointing because I had been sleeping on a pile of tablecloths.  The floor was very hard after that.

IR: But how does it feel to go from anonymous blogger/writer to celebrity author and sometimes escort of Colin Firth and Ewan McGregor?

MF: I don't know what you are implying.  We're all just good friends.

IR: Come now. You can tell us.  We won't tell a soul.

MF: My, my look at the time.  Your shrimp on a stick is looking a little sickly.  Shall we get you another?

IR:  One more question.  Is it true that JK Rowling called to offer you advice on how to survive the media throngs?

MF: She didn't call.  It was at the secret famous authors' club.  Don't get me started on the initiation rituals.  But, believe me, you do not want to mess with Steven King when he's wearing a thong and holding a live chicken.

Margaret's Big Oscar Night

Image via WikipediaFirst of all, I want to say thank you to everyone for your kind and supportive words and thoughts. I know you've all been thinking about me and my secret boyfriend Colin Firth. Would he finally win his Academy Award after being so cruelly cheated last year? Could I take it if he lost? And what's with the Italian supermodel always by his side? Could she just give it a rest already?

Thankfully, as you probably know, he won. Of course he won. I never doubted that he would win. Being so tall and all.

Of course, I was also so grateful that my other secret boyfriend Ewan McGregor didn't show up. Imagine how awkward that would have been. It would have been Bridget Jone's Diary all over. You know, the part where my secret boyfriend Colin fights that lout Hugh Whatshisname! But it would have been my secret boyfriend Colin and my secret boyfriend Ewan: throwing punches, tearing each other's shirts, getting all sweaty.

Actually, maybe I could live with that.

No! No! Of course not ! I would have felt awful! And who would I root for? Colin? I mean it was his night. But I firmly believe Ewan should have been nominated for "The Ghost Writer," so you know, maybe if he won the fight it would right things just a little. Plus, they did make Colin look kind of old and dour for "The King's Speech," wheeras in "The Ghost Writer" I got to see Ewan's butt? Shouldn't that count for something?

But, luckily, it was Colin's night all along. And he sounded so self effacing and English (which is always such a good combination.) Besides, Ewan is probably motorcycling in Africa, so he's probably totally cool with Colin's win anyway. Ewan is totally big that way.

So, yes, you can stop worrying about me. I'm just fine, my secret boyfriends are fine, and my husband? He's a very good sport. In fact, the truth is, he's much better than my secret boyfriends combined! That's right. You read that, sweetie? MUCH BETTER. Ok. Oh! Honey, I think one of the children has your iPhone. You better check it out. Right now. No need to read more. I'm done. All done. Ok. So. Bye.

(Is he gone? Truth is, he is better, but no cute accent, then again, no Italian supermodel hanging off his arm either. So there you go.)