I must have been having a Catherine Zeta-Jones in "America's Sweethearts" moment here:
OK, people... you've had me sitting here in this stupid dress for an hour
trying to look my cutest... any chance we can break for some apple
juice? I need my hair and makeup touched up, and THIS time let's do a better job of hiding my uni-brow. My precious darling cat needs to be taken to her private litter-box... where the HELL is my
personal assistant? Kiki? Where's Kiki? That girl is never around when I need her... do I have to do EVERYTHING myself? And who's SMOKING?!
