It was reported that Keith was seen eating lunch on his own on Oscar Sunday, at the Four Seasons…what was up with that? Well, it just so happens…
NK: Where the hell is that make-up artist? She was supposed to come back to finish me by 11:00.
Keith: She said it could be 11:30, Baby, just relax. You’re going to look great. When they didn’t get started til 4 this morning, I was a bit worried, but now, I’m confident you’ll be ready, beautiful beautiful princess (swallows hard).
NK: Of course, I’ll look great. That’s not the point. She is well paid to be here.
Keith: She’ll be here, baby. It’s only a couple of minutes after 11. So…have you picked the dress yet?
NK: Do you pay attention ever? I chose the black Balenciaga. You’re hopeless.
Keith: Oh…I had hoped you’d choose something with a bit of color…that deep pink one looked good on you.
NK: I have a child within…I need to dress with class, not like a slut…like some common whore.
Keith: That pink dress is beautiful and I thought you looked good, Nic. You didn’t look slutty … I don’t get….(Phone rings and Keith answers it) Hey Connor, what’s up buddy?.....Yeah…she’s here, just a sec, man.” Nic, it’s Connor. (holding the phone out to NK)
Keith: Connor…you know, Connor, your son…Tom’s kid?
NK: Right…OK. Did I actually give him the direct number? What is he doing calling here, especially today of all days?
Keith: He says he wants to talk to you about having lunch and going out to see a movie or something tomorrow.
NK: Are you kidding me? Tell him to forget it. It’s impossible. It’s the day after the Oscars…I’ll have interviews and press releases. I can’t take time out of my day for him. I just spoke to him on … Uhmmm…Thursday, I think… what is he all bothered about?
Keith: He wants to see you, Nic. You’ve been in LA for three days and you haven’t even seen him yet. He wants to see his Mum.
NK: Oh for God’s sake. Tell him to grow up and be a man …I don’t have time for this today. I have the red carpet to focus on and a presentation to do.
Keith: Awww Nic, he’s just a kid and he misses you. He hasn’t seen you since May and he’s excited that you’re in town.
NK: Pffft…I spoke to him Thursday and before that, I spoke to him from Tokyo…or was it Sydney before I left for Tokyo. Well, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t that long ago. He and Isadora can’t expect me to cater to them all the time, can they?
Keith: OK…I’ll tell him you’ll call him tomorrow to set something up … maybe for Tuesday?
NK: If I’m still here on Tuesday, I guess we can do lunch….but no movie. I can’t abide those ridiculous children’s themes….it makes me nauseous. (Keith finishes his conversation with Connor and hangs up)
Keith: You know I support you 100% baby, but I wonder if you should make more of an effort to see your kids…I think Connor especially misses you a lot.
NK: I’m busy. I’m a busy woman and now I have a child inside. My child. What does he expect? I’m exhausted just dragging myself around day in and day out. Does he want to kill me?
Keith: Of course not, baby. He is just a kid who misses his Mother…Oh…forget it.
NK: Don’t pull that on me. I spent many a night laying awake in bed while the nannies tried to shut him up. He had colic…it was horrid. I had to put ear plugs in to filter that never ending screaming out.
Keith: Right…nannies. I hope you don’t plan on having nannies raise OUR child?
NK: Of course they won’t. I have every intention of dealing directly with this child, whenever it’s necessary.
Keith: So…what time are we leaving … the red carpet is starting around 2 pm, right?
NK: We aren’t going at 2 pm, for God’s sake. We go late…to maximize the attention. We go late…to get the carpet to ourselves. Will you ever learn? Did you try on that tux that I picked out for you?
Keith: No…to be honest, it just doesn’t fit well. I bought a new one in New York that I’m going to wear.
NK: You aren’t going to wear the one I picked out? (She thrusts her ginormous lips into a pout) Come on…I want you to wear that one.
Keith: Baby… it isn’t a good fit. I don’t know where you got it, but it just doesn’t work.
NK: Please…it was Tommy’s favorite tux and he looked sooo good in it…I loved Tommy in a tux.
Keith: Well that settles it. I’m won’t be wearing anymore of Tommy’s handmedowns.
NK: Well, you will wear his lifts. I’m sick of not being able to wear heels with you.
Keith: I don’t want to. I could care less if you’re taller than me…I hate those damn shoes.
NK: Stop whining…you’re wearing them. (Faint knock heard at the door; NK peers toward the door) Get that.
(Keith goes to the door and lets in a team of stylists, with dresses, shoes, make up and jewelry. In addition, a waiter enters the room with a trolly of food)
NK: (whispering) OK…the stylists have to be here, but who is that odd little man in the white jacket?
Keith: I ordered some food, baby…I thought you should eat before you get dressed and I was hungry. .
Waiter: Ms Kidman, can I pour you some ice water and prepare your salad?
NK: (Eyes wide) Excuse me? (To Keith) Is he looking directly at me and talking directly to me? Tell him immediately that this is not acceptable….
Keith: Honestly, Nic, he’s just being pleasant and offering to help set up your lunch.
NK: Well, tell him to look away…it’s a shock to my system. Don’t these people know that they can’t actually look AT me or address me without permission? I feel faint. (fans herself)
Keith: Hey…sweetheart…just take a couple of deep breaths. He’ll be here a couple of minutes, then he’s gone. (Keith thanks the man, and gives him a generous tip)
NK: Good Lord…how presumptuous can someone get…to be so forward as to address me personally. What is LA coming to?
Keith: It’s OK baby…relax. (Activity with the beauticians / stylists) They want to do your toes…
NK: Good…they can get rid of that hideous varnish you put on Friday night. That shade of beige is ridiculous. (NK lifts her feet up & Keith bends down and removes her slippers, and nearly falls over from the odor wafting upward from her size 11 feet.)
Keith: Well…I’m sure these people will do a lovely job, Nic. I’m just going to grab a bite to eat in my room and listen to some of the demos Capitol sent me.
NK: You aren’t going to watch me get ready?
Keith: Well, I thought you’d likely want some privacy for all this. The waxing lady is here.
NK: Well, I am not interested in you working, while I’m getting ready. That isn’t going to happen. And the smell of food is making me nauseous…get rid of it.
Keith: Baby, I have a bunch of songs to review…for the next CD. And I’ll move the food into my room so you don’t smell it.
NK: Did I say you could eat? Didn’t I say to get rid of it? GET RID OF IT.
Keith: OK…(pushes the trolly into the hall)
NK: Do you like my diamonds? (Holding up the over the top strings of diamonds aka a chandelier of diamonds!)
Keith: Is that real? Holy crap.
NK: Of course, it’s real. Do you think I’d even consider anything that wasn’t real? It’s going to out do everyone…even that bitch Penelope Cruz. She’ll look small town compared to me.
Keith: It’s a bit much…maybe a bit too much for that dress. I wonder if something simpler might be more appropriate?
NK: Are you questioning my fashion sense?? Honest to God you are getting on my nerves. Get out.
Keith: Sorry baby. I was just …
NK: Get out. Did you hear me? Get out. Come back at 4…and not sooner. I can’t stomach seeing you before then. You shouldn’t be getting me upset in my condition…This child inside me could come out! I could lose my child…because of your selfishness.
Keith: Don’t be upset, Nic. Just calm down. I’ll go out for awhile and grab a bite to eat.
NK: Good…and don’t eat anything stinky…I can’t tolerate it when you’ve had one of those cheese burgers…it grosses me out. My baby will not be eating anything so horrid.
Keith: Our baby.
NK: My baby…and don’t forget it.
(Keith leaves…and is seen frantically texting someone…something about taste…and it isn’t referring to cheese burgers either!)