Thank you, My Little Black Notebook.

It's almost 5 pm; I'm sitting in my light blue Dior Dress, closed-eyed, Waiting for my makeup artist to finish her work on my face. Our limousine is arranged to come by at 6:30 pm sharp, and If there is no traffic, it's expected for us to arrive at Dolby Theatre at 7 pm, where 92nd Academy Awards ceremony is taking place.

My screenplay is nominated for Best Original Screenplay, and My agent is very confident that even tho that I didn't win the Golden Globe, There is a high possibility that I will win the Oscar. I get nauseous even from thinking of it. I feel the wetness of the eye-liner on my right eyelid. I'm taking a deep breath and get back to myself. I need to use this time to think about my speech. Who can imagine that I haven't written my speech yet? I'm thinking about it since the day that I got my nomination news. Since then, I knew it's one of those tasks that I will get stuck finishing. Its been 86 days passed that day, and I haven't written my speech yet. Nor my imagination nor my excellent search skills could help me develop decent, suitable vocabulary. I googled and read all critical Oscar speeches from the longest one to the shortest one, which is just a " Thank you" said by Patty Duke when accepting her Best Supporting Actress award in 1963. Still, I want to say more than just a thank you, and I always think I can continue talking forever when I open my mouth. Who wants to have a world record for the longest scattered Oscar's speech ever? Not me!

My makeup artist pat on my shoulder, which means my makeup is over, and I can look at myself. I stand up and look at my picture in the mirror of my walking closet. I'm satisfied with the result. I look as I imagined, Simple, Dramatic and bold, Just like my stories and myself. I can be hopeful if I even don't win the Oscar. My dress can get nominated for one of the best dresses of the night and featured on Vogue and Elle!

My partner of seven years calls my name from downstairs which means Our limousine is here. I walk down the stairs and see him in his Armani suit. He looks handsome. Besides the fact that I would prefer for him to wear Tom Ford for tonight, I admit that He looks good. I like how he looks at me with excitement and adores me whenever I dressed up for special occasions. I don't know how he can still loves me like this and how he lives with a woman whom she is not present in the moment for ninety-nine percent of the time. I can be either out with some friends whom he has never seen, or I can be on a set, or I can sit and work in our living room behind my laptop, lost in my imaginations. I love him for loving me as I am and allow me to live my life to the fullest. I remind myself to make sure I thank him in my speech.

Before we head out, I pet my dog Waya, and I whisper in his ear to wish mama luck. The way he looked at me melt my heart. He is a three-year-old white Samoyed, and honestly, I feel that my followers on Instagram mostly follow me because of him. I could thank him in my speech, but I may look awkward as it's common to thank your family, partner, children, crew, agent, and eve your best friend but not your furry adopted son. Such a shame!

We sit in the limo. I'm so hungry, and I haven't eaten anything since morning. I was so occupied thinking of my speech that I have forgotten to eat. After all these years of writing all these different stories, series and screenplays, it funny how sometimes a simple writing task can become so challenging.

My partner reaches for my hand. My hands are cold and sweaty, He tries to talk to me to keep me engaged, but I don't want to be involved deep down. I want to think about my speech in the silence of my mind, but I try to be polite, laugh at his joke and be funny. Luckily he doesn't continue, Opposite of me. He is good at reading people.

The limousine black seats draw my attention to themselves. I touch it, and It reminds me of my small black Moleskin notebook. I remember that the magical life I'm living is all started from my small black notebook. I purchased it from Amazon in January 2020, In February, I participate in a writing contest for Vocal, wrote the short story and I won $20,000. Winning this amount of money allowed me to attend the writing program at Vancouver Film school, and I was in my second semester that I finally succeed in selling one of my tv ideas and things were easy and smooth after that, First came the agents, then the studios, then fashion designer and later the producers and just like that In less than five years, I became the internationally awarded screenwriter that I was always dreamed of being.

The limousine stops. We have arrived. I do my best to show my bright side and present myself and my dress as perfect as possible. After a short interview with E!, we walk to the theatre to be seated.

I'm so hungry, stressed and nauseous that everything seems so blurry to me and Just the moment that I came to myself, It was already too late. I found myself standing on the stage, in front of the microphone, holding a golden Oscar statue with my name on it. I look at all the famous faces, my heroes, my source of dreams and inspiration. I'm one of them now. I take a long deep breath and say, " I need to thank my Mom and Dad, Love of my life A and my little black notebook for all the greatness that came with it " I smile and look at the camera in confidence. The audience starts to clap, and I walk backstage. I feel satisfied with my speech. I'm sure tomorrow the media will make a fuss about it, But I don't care. All I care about is the statue that I will take home tonight and all the great stories that will come after it.