Tuesday, 24 February 2009
I'd like to thank my bull mastiff, my husband, and...
Oh, wasn't Sunday night glorious? Why, you ask? Because it was OSCAR night, of course.
All you Oscar haters should just stop reading right here. 'Cause I love those darned Academy Awards, and I don't care if that makes me a geeky stargazer, a bourgeois snob, or just plain weird. I watch 'em every year, right to the bitter end. Why? I'm not exactly sure; I think it has something to do with a childhood dream of walking down the red carpet and accepting an award with teary eyes. I kind of came close the year I won the Stars of Excellence thingy at work. I got to buy a gown and go to a fancy dinner on the arm of semi-important men, but it just wasn't quite the same.
For the last two years, I've been dragging D and C down the Oscar path with me (especially since we don't have cable and have to use C's tv). They put up with it, mainly because they think it's hilarious when I dress up, make hors d'ouvres and pour champagne for the big night. Yeah, I know. I'm a bit lame. But trust me, I look dandy in a gown, I don't buy cheap champagne and my appetizers are delicious. (Ask C - I caught him scarfing down a whole platter of my Mexican Fiesta dip last year.)
This year, I couldn't squeeze into any of my Oscar-worthy gowns, so I had to make do with a sort-of-sexy-in-a-mack-truck-kinda-way maternity dress. (At least now I have cleavage to rival Angelina's.) Plus the usual bottle of champers is a no-no, but thanks to President's Choice pink sparkling stuff, which comes with a cork that pops, we enjoyed a reasonable facsimile.
I do think it's fun to sit back and observe the fashions, the pomp and circumstance, the whole crazy spectacle that is the Oscars. I enjoy those funny or heartfelt moments that occur throughout the night. Tina Fey and Steve Martin were a match made in heaven; Sean Penn's "you commie, homo-loving sons-a-guns" comment almost made me shoot fake wine out my nose; the sincere tones and steady eye contact maintained by the women presenting the best actress award were unusual for a Hollywood event. And Hugh Jackman did a bang-up job as host. Now there's a fellow who looks good in a tux.
So, now that the Oscars have come and gone for another year, and the champagne flutes are stored back on the shelf, I just have to catch up on my movie watching; Slumdog and The Wrestler are next on my list.