When watching award shows, I always find myself getting really emotional over the acceptance speeches. I love seeing the glamorous celebrities we all love and admire shake with shock over being acknowledged and honored. Julia Louis-Dreyfus from Veep was visibly shaking when she won her Emmy for Best Actress in a comedy series, she was humbled by the win and rocked our worlds with her raw emotional tribute to her father who passed very recently. Rami Malek, or Mr. Robot, won Best Actor and his wide eyes and confused gestures revealed his absolute surprise, he dedicated his award to the bit of Elliot that lives in all of us. My chest tightens up and my eyes get glassy because I can't help but think about all the people I would have to thank in my acceptance speech. I'm sure I won't be winning an Emmy or Grammy anytime soon, so I would like to thank the academy and peanut gallery that helped me pave my way.

I of course, would kill the first 30 seconds by delivering some ingeniously witty and I would have to calm the crowd before finishing my thank yous.

I need to thank the small town filled with people who nurtured me until I was ready to take on the big leagues. Especially my childhood next door neighbors, The Harveys who show me more love and support than I deserved. Thank you for never calling the cops on us for being idiots and for always offering a smile my way. Thank you to my small high school that offered me every chance I needed to shine. Thank you for the comforting walls that allowed me to sing a Spice Girls' song at the talent show and sit the bench for every freshmen basketball game (you spared me the embarrassment).

I of course, need to thank all the people who gave me chance (I would throw in a cliche about only standing there today because YOU believed in me).

I thank my three older brothers for forming my tough skin and teaching me the beauty of rejection. Thank you for pretend shooting me anytime I asked to join in on your games and then telling me I need to lay down and play dead. And thank you for leaving me in a closet for hours when I believed we were playing hide and go seek. In those moments, I learned how to triumph over rejection and to be persistence, I asked every day to play even though I understood the outcome. When you eventually came around to thinking I was worthy, you created a star! Thank you for the hours of home videos that display some of my best work. In my roles of Connie Chun, little red, and wild west shooter is where I learned the art of performance! Also, thank you for relentlessly calling me Chunk — helped me deal with all my critics along the way.

Thank you to my parents. You never failed to tell me I was making you proud even when I knew I was f***ing up. Every ounce of me is a mimic of the beautiful life I got to witness being your daughter. Thank you, Dad, for always calling me your little girl no matter my age, and thank you for exposing me to every genre of music (even when I highly resisted). Thank you for kissing Mom every night when she came home from work and showing a powerful display of true love. Thank you, Dad, for working endlessly, but still making it home to be the sports announcer at all my soccer games. Thank you, Mom, for being my absolute best friend and thank you for understanding that every note of the "Wicked" soundtrack must be hit, even if it means accidentally running red lights. Thank you for being the best Lion, Scarecrow and Tinman to my Dorothy and for the countless hours of listening to me pour my heart out to you. Everything good about me comes from the never ending comfort, support, love and life lessons I learned from the world's two greatest humans.

(I would end my speech in the sappiest way I know how, thanking my partner in life and love Kevin Kruger.)

Kev, thank you for having enough ambition for the both of us and for encouraging me always to see myself in the same light you see me. Thank you for making a home out of a 600 square foot apartment and for hauling my 300-pound mug collection everywhere we moved. Thank you for gracing me with your wicked dance moves and impressive reps of chin ups. Thank you for never failing to make me feel wanted and loved. Thank you for being different and kind. You baby, are the rock from which I stand.

(As the music begins to play, I would tell my kids watching at home with mascara tears running down my face to go to sleep and that mommy loves you.)

If you read this and thought about the thank yous you would have to make, make sure you tell those special people, unless of course you plan on winning a prestigious award anytime soon, save it for then.