I want to say that Catherine O'Hara is a national treasure, but technically I can't since she's Canadian. And she emphasized the triumph of Candian-ness at last night's Emmy Awards broadcast by appearing with Schitt's Creek cast mates at a swank party north of the border (complete with a white-rose-lined red carpet), while all the poor American-nominee schlubs were stuck on Zoom from their homes, getting their bookshelves and kitchen counters critiqued by Room Rater over on Twitter.
So, as a country we got our noses rubbed in the superiority of our northern neighbor's COVID response, but I will forgive Catherine O'Hara anything. She and Schitt's Creek got me through some of my worst days of the pandemic. There she was, as Moira Rose, the glamorous, former soap opera star trapped in a rundown motel with her whole family after her world collapsed, and somehow she was making a go of it. How could I not identify? How could I not feel better about my own restricted life?
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