Just to prove that this online journal won't be just about running, today I will be directing my attention to Sunday's Oscars.
Oh, how I love the Oscars. Those who doubt my devotion to this awards show should know that (a) I signed up for the £40-pound-per-month Sky Movies package to watch just the show and (b) After a long Sunday (more on that later), I still woke up at 1:30 a.m. just so I could watch them live. Of course, I might not have done (b) had I known that there would be a rebroadcast on Monday at a more civilized time of 9 p.m.
Sunday had been a big day at our house. It was Tim's 37th Birthday and we were having a small wine tasting party with some friends in the afternoon. I booked the date back in late November, so we've been looking forward to this for months. Unfortunately for me, just an hour before we were meant to leave for the party, Nicholas tripped and literally cracked his head open (as my Mom was fond of saying), so I had to take him to the Emergency Room (or A&E [for Accident and Emergency], as they say here). I endured a four-hour wait and had to listen to the woman with the Big Scary Tattoo on her back describe all of the times her offspring have cracked their heads open. It sounded as though they she got to go to the A&E a lot. By the time the doctor had a look at him, she seemed to think that he didn't need glue to fix the gash after all, as a scab had already formed (that's what happens when you have to wait three-and-a-half hours to see a doctor). But uncharacteristically for me, I made a Very Small Scene and the doctor glued it after all. But she also managed to glue her rubber glove to Nicholas' forehead too. He didn't cry until she had to tug the glove off his head. I would have been inclined to leave the glove on, but one-year-olds can be cruel and they made have mocked him at our next playgroup.
By the time we got out of the hospital, I had missed the party. Needless to say, when I got home I was in dire need of a glass of wine. Or 12. But I still got up at 1:30 to watch the Oscars. By the time I was able to drag myself out of bed, it was closer to 1:45 a.m., so I started watching just as Morgan Freeman won. I do like Morgan Freeman. He's one of the rare actors who is good in everything, even flimsy mystery movies starring Ashley Judd. But I wanted Clive Owen to win. I'm not too proud to say I have a thing for Clive Owen. I saw him in person when we saw "The Producers" in the West End in December, and I'm here to tell you that he's lovelier in person than he is on screen. And he smells nice too. Not that I'm a creepy fan or anything, I just happened to be walking behind him as we all exited the show, and I happened to be in his jetstream. But Clive lost. Bummer. As five-year-old Andrew would say, "Better luck next time."
I spent the rest of the show trying to get a good view of the dresses, which was difficult to do, since I missed the opening parade of attendees. I liked Cate Blanchett's dress very much, even if she did have to suffer the indignity of handing out an Oscar in the back of the auditorium. I'm a big believer in keeping the ceremony as short as possible, but that just seemed silly. Later on, I also really liked Charlize Theron's dress. But that was about it. Hilary Swank? Yuck, yuck, yuck. It had an amazing back, but she obviously was counting on winning, because you weren't going to see that if Sean Penn had called out Annette Benning's name instead. Gwyneth Paltrow? How is it possible that she could find a dress that makes her look fat? The color made her look like one big mess of paleness. It should be noted that's she's never been a great one for picking out Oscar dresses (though I did like the pink Ralph Lauren she wore the year she won, even if no one else did). Maybe she needs a new stylist.
For the life of me, I don't understand why Beyonce sang three of the five songs nominated for Best Song. Were all the other available female singers at a party and Beyonce wasn't invited? She wasn't at all convincing singing the French choir song (again, no one else was available??), I don't understand why the actress from Phantom of the Opera didn't sing that song and by the third song I was so disgusted that she was singing again I didn't pay any attention. If I wanted to watch the Beyonce show, I'd tune into MTV. And she didn't even redeem herself with her sartorial choices. Of the three dresses she wore, I liked none of them.
The one bit I loved was Julia Roberts presenting. Julia, as the whole world knows, gave birth to twins in November. When she appeared at the ceremony on Sunday she actually LOOKED like she gave birth to twins in November, God Bless Her. Her chest was huge-- laden with milk presumably-- and she looked positively hippy. I speak for every mother who ever looked at a post-baby picture of herself and thought, "God, I look fat," and say to Julia, "Respect!"
Until next year, when the Oscars will be broadcast in March again, owing to the Winter Olympics.
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