It's Oscar Sunday, or as we like to call it in my family - Christmas. Sure I was snubbed yet again, so I will be watching this year from a friend's house, no doubt indulging in things the Oscar nominees don't get to have for themselves until well after the awards are over - dinner and lively conversation.
Because I don't have to wrap myself like a mummy to lose excess water weight before the show (a ritual they actually touted as a celebrity must beforehand), I can partake of delectables and speculation to my heart's content...in comfortable shoes, though I might wear a few baubles just for fun.
The majority of my family will be gathering on the west coast for their annual Oscar party. I like that party because they give a prize to the one who guesses the least amount of winners correctly. But this year, since I've seen all but one of the Best Picture nominees, I think I might guess more than a few correctly at my east coast soiree.
I've been following Billy Crystal's tweets, which absolutely crack me up, so I am thrilled that he's back hosting again. Kudos for tweets also go to Steve Martin, undoubtedly best tweeter on twitter. (Try saying that five times fast!) I myself would be a happy twitterer, or tweeter, or whatever, if I could figure out how to get the porno people to stop following me, but that's a dilemma for another day.
Yesterday I watched Midnight in Paris, which left me with the disturbing feeling that I could give Woody Allen's neuroses a run for their money. It also left me craving French wine, baguettes, and with an uncanny desire to read Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Fortunately, I can indulge in these things and plan to do just that during the coming week.
I am looking forward to seeing George Clooney and Brad Pitt...and of course, the dresses and the jewels (on the ladies, that is). I fancy myself an aficionado with such discerning comments as "I love that dress, but that other one - not so much." It's taken me years to cultivate this kind of astute powers of observation.
In my mind, my own Oscar dress is a rich, deep purple - my favorite color. And it covers my upper arms which, my father helpfully pointed out, do not look like Michelle Obama's. So I'm going with 3/4 sleeves. I'm also three dress sizes smaller in my mind, so Jenny Craig, here I come! I will not, however, be doing that mummy thing. Dehydration makes me pass out, and who needs that kind of attention on the red carpet!
I've been delving deeply into the psychological ramifications of an Oscar win, and decided that not only would it be the ultimate source of professional validation, but it could also, in a pinch, be used in self defense, because I hear that those suckers weigh quite a bit. I've got Mr. Oscar pictured on the mantle of the fireplace in my house. And because the house I'm currently in does not have a fireplace, I must be envisioning my Oscar-worthy house as well. (It's really a domino effect once you start visualizing these things.)
Ah, but time is fleeting, and I must go and begin the getting ready process. These are personal favorites: Best Picture - The Help, Best Director - Scorsese for Hugo, Actress - Viola Davis for The Help, Actor - George Clooney for The Descendants, Supporting Actor - Jonah Hill for Moneyball, Supporting Actress - Octavia Spencer for The Help, Original Screenplay - Bridesmaids, Best Adapted Screenplay - Moneyball.
And why the heck are there only TWO songs nominated??? Anyone???
Have fun tonight at the Oscars! I know I will!