I feel like an asshole. It takes an asshole to not throw anything but love towards Hugh Jackman. But that ponytail. Do we just ignore the ponytail? We first saw the ponytail in the etalk control room while watching the pool feed during arrivals and…well… it was a collective groan. Because no one wants to sh-t on Hugh or near him. But…that ponytail. That so obviously fake ponytail that belongs on a club girl but instead arrived at the side of an Oscar nominee…

It was heinous.

And worse, as Laura, who was sitting beside me said, harshly, but maybe not at all untrue:

“That’s a woman who’s tired of people talking about her younger husband.”

Or trying to give us proof that he’s not gay. Because you’d think a gay man would never have allowed that ponytail to be seen anywhere near him. Is that reverse psychology or something?

No matter.

Whatever problems I had with the ponytail were soon forgotten during the Les Miserables performance. SHUT UP I CRIED. I cried seeing him, the leader, standing in front of his people, facing the Oscar audience. I even cried for Russell Crowe because, yes, he sucks, but he’s really endearing when he sucks, OK? And it was sweet, wasn’t it, when Deb edged in to Hugh for the Best Actor moment? That was the indication right there that they still thought they had a chance. They were wrong. I was wrong.