In fact, she did! Nicole Kidman, I am putting you on notice!
How dare you call me last night and ask me to be a "Flower Kitty" at your wedding to Keith Urban. How. Dare. You.
When you called last night, I knew it was to talk about the upcoming nuptials. I expected you to ask me to be your Maid of Honor, sing, or even perform the ceremony (I was ordained as a minister on the internet). You ask me to be the Flower Kitty? Really? You may have well asked me to clean toilets at the reception.
I know it makes you uncomfortable that Tom calls me every once in awhile. Keep in mind, I met you through him--he was my friend first. Having said that, though, you have to know I have always liked you best. When the two of you broke up, who was there drying your tears? The Empress. Who let you cry on their shoulder? The Empress. Who helped you throw eggs at his gate? The Empress. Who even convinced him that jumping on the couch on Oprah would do nothing but make the public see him as a giddy romantic and not at all a fool? You got it!
And you do me like this?
We've done everything BFFs do! We've stayed up late at night talking about boys, done one another's hair and make-up for red carpet appearances, lunched at The Ivy, shopped Rodeo Drive, and anonymously called Page Six to report erroneous celebrity gossip--just for shits and giggles!
I don't know what to say, other than I am hurt. I don't understand your thought process. I thought we were closer than Bride and Flower Kitty. I mean...seriously, Nicole! You expect me to walk down the aisle with a basket of flowers tied to my back? Come on! The tabloids will have a field day with that!
I ask that you reconsider your position on the Flower Kitty deal. For our friendship. For me. Please. I don't want to drag this conflict into the media--I don't think either of us needs the bad press, but I may have to in order to save my reputation.
Consider yourself on notice.