It's such a torturous event really. You get dressed up, sit through a super long dinner, and hope that you and your friends take home a shiny gold trophy. Of course it's not about the hardware exactly, it's about what that 2 pounds of gold metal represents: achievement in your field, as judged by your peers, a bunch of people known for their mental instability and finicky nature.
This year I received one Emmy award out of four nominations. I'm a 1 for 4 type of gal, apparently, as I had the same record last year.
But I have to say, the one I took home this year was very special to me. It's the big one for reporters (in case you couldn't tell by the label.)
I have been nominated for this category once in Phoenix, and last year as well. It's nice to finally be named the Emmy award recipient for reporting. And by nice I mean it's fah-reaking fabiolus. Not just fabulous. FAB EE OH LUS!
I gave one of my typical terrible, uncomposed, unrehearsed, awkward rambling speeches. I think maybe next time, if there is a next time, I will write some things down. I thought that was bad luck, but now I realize I'm not good on the fly when it comes to these things. I look at Brodie Brazil (perennial winner in the "On Camera Host" category) who is always succinct and sincere, or Mike Sugerman (multiple winner in every category you can name) who is always so funny and fearless with his jabs at his employer KPIX, and then I get up there and I'm always so flustered and flailing and other f words.
It's not like I use words for a living or anything. For some reason, I do a much better job in front of regular people than I do in a roomful of judgy McJudgingtons. Ahem.
This year was really interesting for me, as the timing required me to arrive a little early, get prepped to present (Garvin Thomas and I were tapped to present a few of the awards--very fun), and I also had to allow time to pump. Yes. So much fun having to lug my trusty PJ's Comfort breastpump along to the Emmy awards. It fits so nicely into my sparkly evening clutch.
After talking to someone who'd been there, done that last year, I was given the advice to pump early and before the show and that hopefully, I'd make it through the night without bursting into frothy milky madness flames.
That's where Oleksi came in. The Russian security guard I pounced on two floors below the awards ceremony grand ballroom.
Me: "Excuse me, hi, do you have a small private room somewhere that I can use for like 15 minutes, max?"
The Russian: "?"
Me: "I just need a room with maybe a chair and an outlet. You know, like maybe where people sit down to charge their laptops? I need to *making a flurry of motion with my hands* you know, pump. I just had a baby."
The Russian: *eyes widen*
Me: "Like a small office would be great. Do you have any room like that I can use for just a little bit? I can't go in the bathroom--I need a plug for my pump *more hand motions.*
The Russian: "Oh OK, you have a laptop?"
Me: "No, I just had a baby, so I have a pump. To get milk."
The Russian: "Where is your baby?"
Me: "She's home. Long night. Boring. Not fun for baby."
The Russian: "OK so you just need to charge something?"
Me: "Yes, yes. Sort of."
All the while he is leading me and The Good Doctor up and down stairs and finally we arrive at a small staging room, with two card tables and an outlet. He says he will get a chair but I am so relieved that we are in a room with a plug and a door that closes that I tell him I don't even need a chair. I can get along just fine standing.
He looks relieved and hurries off. Very nice guy, fine English speaker, but definitely way too young to know or want to know what a flustered mother of a semi newborn needs to do with a pump in a private room. But he got the job done. Thanks Oleksi. Or Oleski? It was a bit of a blur.
8 ounces of milk later, we're back on track, heading to the ballroom to check in the pump and head to lucky table 13. But right as we hand the bag to the unsuspecting coat check attendant, The Good Doctor notices the bag is soaked through and dripping. Drip. Drip. Someone, in her haste, didn't screw the lid onto one of the bottles tightly enough. We park in a corner, balance the bag on a baluster, unzip everything, and assess the damage. At least 3 ounces has now leaked onto the insulated bag. Awesome. I re-screw everything on, including my head, and we politely ask Coat Check Teen to "keep the bag vertical. At all times. Trust us, you don't want to know."
Debacle #1 behind us, things go splendidly the rest of the night. Even the jokes Garvin and I made about the brand new investigative unit at NBC Bay Area, the largest in the nation for a local news station.
"We're very proud of the size of our unit."
"It's not just about the size of our unit though, it's about how we use our unit."
"To make sure we go deep in the stories we cover."
"Our unit will give everyone some very stiff competition next year."
"But let's not be premature about our unit and let's get to the categories we're here to present tonight."
Thanks to The Good Doctor for urging us to use our cojones and at least entertain ourselves with a little fun banter while we were onstage.
Things I loved about this year's Emmys:
Seeing people who are normally very business professional all gussied up. And seeing the people who look cray cray.
Former KPIX morning anchor John Kessler's opening number, written by Mike Sugerman, and performed with real singers and dancers. I especially enjoyed the part where Kessler said, "Half of you are saying 'Who the hell is this guy? The other half is saying 'What the f--- was that?'" Only he didn't use an f and three hyphens.
The beefy dinner and the chocolate cherry dessert.
That moment when the presenters said my name and all of my friends jumped up to squeeze me tightly and celebrate with me.
KTVU reporter Amber Lee's speech when she and her colleagues won for Team Coverage. She was so genuine and articulate and just beaming. Love her. She and I have bonded over the years because I used to have 2 basenjis. She's the only other reporter who knows what a kookball those dogs are.
KTVU weekend anchor Ken Wayne singing the Emmy blues during the interlude.
NBC Bay Area photographers Robert Wellington and Alex Bozovic and promos/graphic arts experts Mickey Adolph and Rory Campbell taking home Emmy awards. It was the first for Robert, Alex and Rory.
It was helluva welcome back from maternity leave and here is the customary "day after the Emmy awards photo wherein I position my children dangerously close to the pointy wings:"
Did I mention not 2 hours after receiving the Emmy, it slipped out of the box and bounced on the driveway with a loud CLANGGG before The Good Doctor caught it on the upwards bounce? He was all Rachael Ray and carrying 8 million things out of the back seat, including the giant Emmy award box and wouldn't you know it, the heavy, awkwardly shaped thing fell out. I was like, "Are you serious right now? It's midnight 30 and I just took home the Emmy for best reporter and you just janked it up on our driveway?" Apparently these things are built pretty well, as it suffered only a teensy scratch. Such is my life. Awesome.