With the shocking news that Vanity Fair—traditionally the host of the most extravagant, starfuckiest soirée of Oscar seasons—would not be holding their annual festivities, Hollywood's society set was instantly thrown into turmoil over fears that the entire Oscar party circuit would tumble like Mexican Train Dominoes. Thankfully, those fears were for naught:

Did you somehow arrive to work too late this morning to be handed your very own copy of the WGA Negotiations Update literature being handed out by the union's friendly, red-shirted flyer-distribution team at the entrances to every studio lot in town, or just generally feel left out of all the pre-contract-expiration fun?