Live from the red carpet, it’s ME.

Usually, I’m wearing my pajamas, the flannel ones, might be the polka dot blue and white, or the elephant print, or maybe the ones with the intricate pink flower design while I write my red carpet best and worst blogs. but this year, this year was a little different. A little fucking shut-the-front-door, this-is-bananas and you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me different.

I’ve been in California for the month of February and was heading to meet my son and his friends at brunch in Santa Monica yesterday, when I told my husband the SAGS were on that night. He asked me where they were being held. I looked it up and it was, as usual, at the Shriner’s Auditorium, “You gotta go,” he said. “WHAT?” I answered. “YOU GOTTA GO!” he repeated. I hadn’t even thought of this, and I’m not at all sure why. He was on his way to a work thing in San Diego after the brunch, so he couldn’t go with me and I’m a little shy about driving around LA solo, plus I figured the crowds were already lining up, and I wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. We dropped the subject. I mean, how ridiculous…

We ate brunch, including a share order of Squash Pancakes, which were green, and like all sorts of major delish. Note to self: throw some squash in the cakes next time.

When I was inside ordering, Peter had looked up directions to the show and found it was not at the Shrine, it was a short 10 minutes away at the Fairmont Hotel. So, knowing I’m obsessed with movies and tv, an award show junkie, and a celeb fashion slave, he convinced (FORCED) my son to take me. TO. THE. SAG. AWARDS. Yuh huh, I was one of the screaming fans, of which there were only a total of 12 and hardly any of them were screaming, except for three 13-year-old girls who were decked out in crop tops and sweats and had signs for Bobby Milly Brown.

Anyway, yeah, so I went to the SAG Awards! Ok, I went to the outside of where the celebs get dropped off at the SAG Awards, but still, RIGHT? Not in my pajamas, not on my couch in Boston, right there on the scene in Century City. All I needed was a mic, a better vantage point, a good dress and you’d have thought I was reporting for E!

Me, the thirteen-year-olds and the other few fans stood across the street from drop-off. While it was close to the action, we could only see the people who got out of the cars on the left-hand side. But was I complaining, was I bitter? Are you kidding, I was just a little bit out of my mind to be there at all, clicking something off my bucket list I thought I’d kick the bucket before doing. I mean, I was so wildly excited that I barely felt the cold. LA can get chilly in the winter, and while it wasn’t East Coast February weather, which you know how much I LOVE, it was in the shade and it was, well, let’s just say I thought my hands might be frostbitten at some point.

I did get pictures of the back of a bunch of celebs. And every time I predicted to my son, “That’s somebody,” he’d reply “Mom, everybody is somebody,” which really made me wonder if he’d truly come out of my womb. After all, I did have a c-section and they might have switched the babies…..BECAUSE C’MON, PLAY ALONG, YOU’RE AT THE SAG AWARDS.

I was clicking away at people I didn’t even recognize and will admit to thinking that the head Hotel guy was someone famous, when my son informed me he was just a Fairmont employee.

The high point? Up pulled one in a long line of black Escalades and out popped Jason Bateman and before i even knew what I was doing, I screamed, “Jason” at Jason Bateman like I was one of the 13 year old girls, and he turned around, looked right at me, and waved. TO ME, Toni of the pajamas-on-the-couch-blog and the frostbitten fingers. JASON BATEMAN, of Arrested Development, Juno and O-fucking-Zark fame, waved at me. He did. why the crowd of 12 did not call one of my favorite actor’s names defies logic. But no worries, I properly and embarrassingly fan-girled Jason and honestly, I had the distinct impression he was grateful was there.

My phone’s battery finally died, and my son’s patience for the cold wore thin, so we hightailed it outta there, but lemme just say that going to the SAG Awards in my ugly jeans was one of those things I’ll never forget. I love stories, so of course, I love celebrities who make them into movies and shows and who’s personal stories are even much of the time as entertaining as their fictional character’s lives. No red carpet take downs today, no best and worst lists, just a happy camper who got to (almost) touch the stars yesterday. Grateful to my son for putting up with his mom. I know you did it for me, Jakey, and I know you’re unmistakably my boy, even if you didn’t want to shout at Jason Bateman with me.