Oscar Night: First Roundup of Tweets

This is why I love Twitter. It requires you to be witty in 140 characters or less. So I'll be live tweeting the Oscars, and during the commercial breaks-- where here in the UK they go to a panel of people I've never heard of talk about stuff-- I'll post my last roundup of tweets.

(It looks as though the nice people at Twitter will let me cut and paste exactly like it looks on my feed. So that's something.)

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars: Seriously? You just won an Oscar and you can't put your glasses in the right place? Or is this just some sort of arty thing?

3 minutes ago

fuggirls Go Fug Yourself

by mastapleton

This show ALREADY fells like it's running long. - J

8 minutes ago

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars: The first upset of the night! The King's Speech doesn't win for some... technical award. Alice in Wonderland wins instead.

4 minutes ago

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars If Anne Hathaway wore a different dress on the red carpet than the one she's wearing now, does that count as a dress change?

8 minutes ago

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars This opening bit, though, just isn't working. Nice to see the moms and the grandmas, though.

10 minutes ago

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars I think this opening bit is pretty funny; with James Franco in a leotard and Back to the Future references and everything!

13 minutes ago

mastapleton Maureen Stapleton

#Oscars: Sky is killing time before things all kick off with people I've never heard of talking about the dresses. It's painful.

28 minutes ago

»

BorowitzReport Andy Borowitz

by mastapleton

Results of Internet Poll: 100% say James Franco is stoned

Oscar Night 2011!

Oscar Night 2011, or as I'm calling it, "The Night 'The King's Speech' Won."

We all want The King's Speech to win. You would think that Toy Story 3 would be the household favourite, for obvious reasons, but we like to back a winner. Also, some scenes were filmed in Greenwich, so we like to support our hometown.

Some thoughts before the Big Event Begins:

Dresses I love:

-Sandra Bullock in Vera Wang. (I know I've said this before, but when I finally get nominated as Best Actress, I'll wear Vera Wang to the ceremony).

-Helena Bonham Carter. I'm sure she's wearing Vivenne Westwood, as she usually does. It looks as though she went to the trouble of wearing matching shoes tonight. I hope she wins, particularly because I can see that she brought her mother to the ceremony.

- Helen Mirren looks amazing. Again. Something for all of us to shoot for when we get older.

Dresses that are making me wrinkle my nose in distaste:

-Scarlett Johansson. Hate the colour. Hate the lace. Hate the whole thing.

-Nicole Kidman. It's interesting, but I'm not sure about it.

-Natalie Portman looks beautiful, but incredibly nervous. If I were her, I'd be worried about The Curse of the Best Actress Win. Come on. Think about it. The last few years, nearly every woman who's won it (with the exception of Helen Mirren) ended up breaking up with their husband or partner. Maybe she doesn't want to suffer the same fate.

-Gwyneth Paltrow looks like a female version of Oscar. I wonder if she'll talk about this on Goop. It's hard to believe she's got a cookbook coming out later this year, looking at her in that dress.

So I'll be here all night. Or not, if it gets boring. I was thinking about this before. The need to see it all live is not as great as it once was. We'll see if I last the night.

First Person / The Sleepy Bowl

The following is a column I wrote that appears in today's Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. If you want to read it on the P-G site, as well as read all of the essential Super Bowl news, click here. For those of you too lazy to click on a link, I've copied and pasted it below.

First Person / The Sleepy Bowl

Pity us expats who must watch the Steelers in the wee hours

Saturday, February 05, 2011

By Maureen Stapleton

LONDON -- When I tell my friends here that I'll be cheering for Big Ben on Sunday, they think I'm talking about England's most famous timepiece. Such is the problem for diehard Steelers fans living in a foreign country.

As the Steelers once again march their way into the Super Bowl, spare a thought for those of us who must go to extraordinary lengths to support our favorite team.

It is not for us to have a comfortable Sunday afternoon of getting the snacks and sofas ready for the big game. No, our Super Bowl Sunday involves careful preparation.

We have to beg off on Sunday invitations, as the day must be spent conserving energy and taking naps. As we are five hours ahead of Pittsburgh, the game is scheduled to kick off at 11:30 p.m. London time, and it won't end until the early hours of the morning.

It is not for us to enjoy the game with a big platter of wings, a big bowl of cheese dip and a large vat of chili. In the United States, food consumption on Super Bowl Sunday may be second only to Thanksgiving, but our most trusted culinary companions during the game will be big mugs of strong coffee.

That said, it certainly is possible that if at 2 a.m. the Steelers are winning and I'm feeling a bit peckish, I might wander into the kitchen to rustle up a Primanti Brothers-like sandwich with cole slaw and fries. It won't be as good, but Primanti's doesn't deliver to our ZIP code.

•

Discussing the game with friends and neighbors can be challenging. If I were to say, "The Pittsburgh Steelers are playing the Green Bay Packers in the Super Bowl," the entire sentence would need to be translated to my British friends.

In the face of quizzical expressions, I would find myself expressing the importance of the game this way, "The American football team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, from my husband's hometown and the city where we got married, are playing another American football team, the Green Bay Packers, who are supported by fans called 'cheeseheads' in an end-of-season matchup called the Super Bowl, which is like the Champions League Final."

I could translate the latter part of that sentence for you, but this could go on all day.

In a land devoid of news about The Big Game, this morning the beating of my heart quickened when BBC's Radio 4-- like National Public Radio, but with a British accent-- said they had a report from Pittsburgh. But rather than a story on something important -- such as Mike Tomlin's game strategy or Troy Polamalu's hair or Brett Keisel's beard -- it was about East Liberty's Conflict Kitchen. Interesting, but not what I wanted to hear.

Following the report on Conflict Kitchen came the sports report. I thought a few sentences about the Super Bowl surely would be the perfect transition between a story about Pittsburgh and sports. Alas, no.

No mention of The Big Game, and worse, the first sports report was about England's one-day international cricket match against the Australians in which the British scored 333 for 6.

I could translate that last sentence for you, but again, this could go on all day.

•

Another big thing you miss as a Steelers fan abroad is the communal joy (or despair, but let's stay positive here) following a Steelers game.

If we were living in Pittsburgh, we could talk about the game with anyone, including strangers on the street. I can't do that here, as people would think I had lost the plot. I might even be called barmy. At least the Steelers fans we know and love are only a phone call or e-mail away.

So when you're gathered around the television set on Sunday to watch the Steelers beat the Packers, spare a thought for those of us on the other side of the world, awake in the middle of the night and cheering as quietly as possible so we don't wake the rest of the house.

As the Steelers lift their seventh Lombardi Trophy early Monday morning in London or mid-afternoon in Asia, one thing will unite Steelers fans around the world: A feeling of absolute joy.

Maureen Stapleton, a writer, moved from the United States to London 12 years ago and has watched a lot of Steelers games in the middle of the night.

Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/11036/1123060-109.stm#ixzz1D4yyjEUX

Ghost of Christmas Past

Today, Twelfth Night, is officially the day we should be taking down the tree. But we did it on Sunday, as the tree had done its duty and it had begun to look a bit droopy.

However, to celebrate 12th Night, here's one last picture of the Christmas season 2010 using some cool setting on our camera. Neat, huh?

Advent Windows 2010

London's Winter Wonderland

We're on Day 3 of Snowy London here. The summary of what we've done to enjoy it is thus: sledding in the park, hot chocolate, Wii Party, Christmas films and taking out the Christmas Decorations.

Here's some pictures, because everyone knows pictures are worth a thousand words.

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

Happy St. Andrew's Day

Happy St. Andrew's Day!

St. Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland, Greece and Russia.

When we were in Scotland last month, Thing One said, "I feel quite special, because there are St. Andrew's flags everywhere!"

Flamingos make a Flamingo

The clue about this amaing picture is in the title: Flamingos make a Flamingo. The picture was taken by wildlife photographer Robert Haas for (who else?) National Geographic. Divine intervention or just good luck? Who knows, who cares. It's a great picture. To read more about it, go to the Guardian story.

Halloween 2010

We had a raucous Halloween this year, which is truly the only type of Halloween to have. I present to you here our costume offerings.

On the left you will see The Black Knight from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." His uncle, who made MarathonMum watch said movie countless times in high school, no doubt is brimming with pride. He spent most of the day uttering the phrases, "It's only a flesh wound!" or "I'm invincible!" or (most popular) "Tis but a scratch." The coolest thing about the costume, not captured here, was that his left arm detached, leaving him with a stump to carry around, and a bloody armpit. Very cool. (Thanks eBay!)

On the right you will see our fearless hero, the World War II Fighter Pilot. It's still undetermined if said pilot was fighting for the British or the Americans, but he was definitely on the side of the Allies. The moustache didn't stay on for long, so it's a good thing we captured it on film. The genuine fighter pilot jacket, given to him by his uncle the fighter pilot, just barely fit, but it was good enough for Halloween. Not pictured is the map he drew on the back of his bandana featuring all the notable landmarks of Greenwich's landscape-- our house, school, the park and his best friends houses.

Happy Halloween, everyone.

Learning Lasts a Lifetime

Yesterday I found out that my favourite journalism teacher, June Lytel-Murphy had passed away. She was an amazing woman who taught me so much about so much.

These are among the most important things she taught me:

10. A good writer is a good reader.

9. You'll get the best answers by being a good listener.

8. Heavy earrings can do damage to your earlobes. Please be careful.

7. If you have a strong opinion about something, be sure you have the facts to back up your position.

6. No female over the age of 18 should be referred to as a "girl." She is a woman. Please change the copy accordingly.

5. Don't get fancy with the word "said." No "exclaimed" or "argued" or "shouted." If "said" is good enough for the New York Times, it's good enough for you.

4. Every person in the world has an interesting story to tell. If you think a person is boring, you're asking the wrong questions.

3. Believe in yourself.

2. If you don't stick up for yourself, no one else will.

1. An enthusiastic feminist is the only type of feminist to be. (See also No. 2)

My friend Dante said it best when he wrote, "Good teachers never leave you."

Godspeed, Juney the L. You were an amazing mentor and friend.

Happy 11th Birthday, Thing One!

Thing One practicing his presidential acceptance speech at the Smithsonian in August.

Thing One now is 11. It's not as significant as jumping from single to double digits, but it does remind that his march to teenagedom is growing ever shorter. And just beyond that is adulthood.

Earlier this month, I felt like I got an early preview of what he'll be like as a man. He was at his weekly tennis lesson, and had been paired with a particularly lovely young woman. As I watched from the sideline, all I could hear him say was "Yours" or "Mine" in the polite way that some tennis players do it. I could almost imagine him 10 or 20 years from now, running around on a tennis court and doing the same thing with his girlfriend, or (dare I say it) his wife.

This is a big year for him, though. It's his last year of primary school, and we're spending most of September and October running around to visit secondary schools. He was always tall and scrawny, but now he's starting to fill out. He made the school football team, which makes me proud of him, but he's also an excellent big brother, which makes me even prouder.

However, I know he's not a man yet. I know this because I overheard the boys talking this morning about what it takes to be a man.

"To be a man," Thing Two said confidently, "You have to have rode The Griffon."

The Griffon, for those of you who don't know, is a roller coaster at Busch Gardens Williamsburg with a 90 degree drop that's 205 feet high, along with multiple loops and, for good measure, no floor. It takes roller coaster madness to a whole new level. I bribed Thing One to not ride on it because I thought it crossed the line from "fun-scary" to "dangerous-scary." (As it turns out, I was right. While looking up the facts above, I saw that the ride got stuck on the first precipice less than a week before we were there, and they had to take five people to the hospital. See? Maternal instincts are always right.)

"To be a man," Thing One responded, "You have to have either rode the Griffon or be 21."

He'll be a man before I know it.

Happy Birthday Thing One.

London SkyRide

As you can see from the sponsored hi-vis vest, Thing One participated in the London SkyRide on Sunday. This was part of a nationwide effort to get more people on their bikes. It worked. In London, thousands of bikers participated, including Thing One and his Dad.

Thing One had a whale of a time. He said it was difficult riding along with all of the other riders, but he loved being able to bike by Big Ben and other notable sights of central London.

Thing Two passed on the opportunity because he's still getting his sea legs-- albeit on a bike-- having mastered two wheels as my Mother's Day present. But he said he wants to give it a try next year. Thing One will be ready.

The Summer in One Picture

This probably isn't the best representation of the summer-- after all, it's not in the sunshine, it's not in the U.S. (where we spent almost all of August) and it involves no form of swimming, roller coasters or ice cream (some of our favourite summer time activities). It's not even in focus, but that's phone cameras for you. (I refuse to moan about mobile phone cameras because after all, it is A PHONE WITH A CAMERA, something I couldn't have ever imagined when I was their age).

But I love this photo. My favourite boys in front of my favourite artist on day when we popped into the National Gallery-- only 20 minutes away from our front door-- so Thing Two could see some Leonardo da Vinci pictures, which had been his Top Interest at the time. But most of all I love the spontaneous hug. Soon after I took this picture, the guard came around and told me off for taking it, so I suppose it's almost a once-in-a-lifetime picture. Unless we want to take the chance again.

Is Gravity Responsible for Falling in Love?*

Is gravity responsible for falling in love?

Are you kidding me? Of course not. Gravity is science. It is certain. It can be seen. It can be proven. It is indubitable. It can even be expressed by a scientific formula, in this case F=G([m1*m2]/D^2). (Thanks Sir Isaac Newton!)

Love—falling in, being in, staying in, or any other gerund related to its action—is anything but scientific. It’s kismet. It’s fate. It’s chance. It’s luck. It’s unproven. It’s a type of alchemy. It is the very antithesis of science.

But hang on a second. Could it be that simple? Is life really that clear cut? No, it’s not. Things are never just black or white, yes or no. There are usually lots of shades of grey, and there’s always at least one maybe.

Sir Isaac Newton, after all, wasn’t just a scientist. He was also a philosopher, a professor, a politician and a mathematician. He was Master of the Mint. (I don’t know what that means, but I bet it looked pretty cool on his calling cards.) You could say he was a jack-of-all-trades. Or you could say that he was neither one thing nor another. He lived his life in glorious shades of grey. He did, after all, have a surfeit of grey matter.

Is the Law of Universal Gravitation physics or is it mathematics? Both camps want to claim it as their own. It appears to be neither one nor the other: another great shade of grey.

Sir Isaac was a man of many talents, and also a man of many laws of physics. In addition to his Law of Gravity, he also wrote three laws of motion. The second and third laws explain force and action, but it is the first law where he may have been obliquely referring to love. The first law of motion states that an object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion, unless hit by something else.

So a person not in love will stay that way, but a person in love stays in love, unless hit by something (like fancying someone new). Maybe he wasn’t thinking about love when he wrote the First Law of Motion, but it certainly does seem to apply.

Would Sir Isaac still have come up with the same Law of Gravity if he had been able to apply it to falling in love rather than falling apple? Sir Isaac never married, and the encyclopedias don’t tell us if he ever fell in love. Falling in love, as applied to the scientific principal of gravity, certainly seems to be a shade of grey.

But if love, rather than an apple had inspired Sir Isaac Newton, could he have proven that gravity was responsible for falling in love? We shall never know.

* I wrote this essay as part of an application for a one-day writing course. (I was accepted.) They didn't seem to use it for anything, so I thought rather than let it sit on my hard drive unused, I would post it here.

For Star Wars Fans Everywhere

The reasons I love this:

-Only in New York City would the presence of Princess Leia would be met with shrugs;

-The arrival of Stormtroopers elicits a bigger reaction, but still, it's hardly a massive reaction;

-The thought of a scene being played out on a New York subway makes my day.

(It would have been even better if they had used the voice of James Earl Jones, but you can't have everything, I suppose.)

All Hail the Oracle Octopus!*

All Hail King of World Cup!

For those of you who might have missed it this weekend, there was a small sporting contest called "The World Cup" played on Sunday night. But the bigger phenomena of the game was the astute picks by Paul the Oracle Octopus, who lives in Germany.

Paul now has announced his intention to retire to the quiet life after his perfect record of picking the correct winners during the World Cup. Paul, a 21st century kind of Octopus, announced his retirement in a 21st century kind of way: on Facebook.Good luck, Paul. We hope you find your retirement restful.

For those of you who missed Paul in all of his oracle glory, here he is, picking Spain to win.

*Thanks to Lesley Attarian, who came up with this headline.

New Imax: Legends of Flight

We love the Science Museum. Always have, always will.

Last night, we took advantage of our Science Museum membership to see the European premiere of the new Imax film, "Legends of Flight".

("Oh! Another premiere!!" Thing One said. I really have to stop this, as they're beginning to think it's normal.)

I was really looking forward to it. I thought it might be like my first-ever Imax film I saw in the late 1970s, "To Fly!" which was shown at the at the National Air & Space Museum, part of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.

"Legends of Flight" is predominately about the development of Boeing's new airplane, the 787. It also shows some other historic airplanes, such as the Constellation and the Harrier jet.

In some respects, it was like the best bits of "To Fly." There were several scenes of amazing cinematography, especially when the glider is flying over what appears to be Alaskan glaciers. They also used animation pretty well, showing the structure of a plane versus the physiology of a bird.

But the film also certainly marked a cinematic milestone: the use of Imax technology to show a business meeting. I wish I were kidding, but I'm not. They actually had several (not just one) Boeing (or should that be boring) meetings about the development of the 787. Is that really the best use of Imax technology? I think not.

The boys loved it, and both awarded it a thumbs-up. I might have given it a thumbs-up if there had been less meetings and more flying.

Yet again, I am either a good mother for taking them to something exciting, or a bad mother, for not getting them home until 10:30 p.m. on a school night. It's a toss up.

"Legends of Flight": if you'd like to see a business meeting through the magic of Imax, this is the film for you.

World Cup 2010: Paul the Oracle Octopus

In a continuing effort to bring my American friends up to speed on all World Cup 2010 news, I bring you Paul the Oracle Octapus!

OK. I'll be honest. "Paul the Oracle Octopus" is not his real name. I made that up. His real name is "Paul the Octopus" and he lives at the Aquarium Sea Life Centre in Oberhausen, Germany. His current claim to fame is being able to accurately predict the winners in the World Cup.

Paul works his magic after his handlers have placed two glass boxes containing mussels for Paul to eat with the appropriate flags on the front. Paul chooses the box-- and the winner-- by selecting it, opening the lid and eating the mussel.

He is, above all, an honest octopus. Even though he was born in England, he still picked them to lose to Germany, which they did. Yesterday, during a LIVE broadcast before the Germany-Spain game, he picked Spain to win (see above), even though he depends on Germans to feed him.

Paul the Oracle Octopus also correctly predicted that Argentina would lose to Germany, angering the Argentinian fans, who said they would put Paul into a paella if given a chance.

He has a very good record. The only time he was wrong was in 2008, when he predicted a Germany win over Spain in the European Championships, which Spain won 1-0.

Will Paul the Oracle Octopus pick the correct winner in the Spain-Netherlands match on Sunday? Only time will tell.

475 Posts and Counting...

Congratulations to me. This is my 475th post on MarathonMum.

When I started this blog five and a half years ago, blogging was still in its infancy. People have moved on now to Twitter and Facebook-- as have I, to a certain extent-- but I keep plodding on with the blog.

Why?

First of all, I like doing it. It gives me a chance to write about anything I like. I don't always come up with interesting essays, and often the posts feature pictures of Thing One and Two (though the grandparents like these posts). But I very much enjoy putting stuff out there. I may only have a few dozen regular readers, but that doesn't bother me *that* much. If I really cared about getting more followers, I would have made this a more general blog, guaranteeing more strangers reading the things I write.

I also might have more followers if I posted more regularly, but I tend to go in fits and spurts. Last year was a terrible year for productivity, but I was holding down another job as well as doing all the other things that moms have to do, so time was tight. Even when I was getting up regularly at 5:30 a.m. to get work done, the blog suffered.

Productivity also can be hampered by the fact that blogging is bloody hard work, as evidenced by the dead blogs scattered throughout the Information Superhighway. (MarathonMom, the original name I wanted to name this blog, I'm looking at you). There's also loads of people who say, "Oh, I'm going to do a blog," and then they abandon it. (Laurel Touby, take a bow. Scroll down for the apology for not blogging more.)

Another reason I keep plodding on is that it's serving as a really nice journal of our family life. Occasionally, I'll go back a few years to see what we were doing then, and I'll stumble across a photo of Thing One or Thing Two that will literally take my breath away, because they're so small-cute-different from how they are now.

But the best reason I can think of persevering is that it's keeping me writing. As I continue to toil on my first novel, it's a nice break to be able to just jump on to the blog and write whatever is in my head. Sometimes these thoughts are worth reading, sometimes they're not. But I do appreciate you stopping by, whoever you are.

Thanks for reading.

Wimbledon 2010

They came, they saw, they conquered.

Obviously, I'm not talking about Andy Murray and Venus Williams at this year's Wimbledon. I'm talking about Thing One and Thing Two, who had their first Wimbledon experience.

Now that they're old enough to sit still, be quiet and stay up until 11 p.m. on a school night, (the last milestone being the last one reached), we headed to the tennis tournament after school on Thursday of the first week. The boys had been to Wimbledon just last summer (see below), but when we were there the most active people around were the people working at the tills in the museum shop.

At the height of the tournament, it's completely different. First of all, the Wimbledon station is completely decorated with Wimbledon posters and promotional materials, with big signs leading you to the bus queue or the taxi queue. (Although we didn't go there this year, in the past, Southfields underground station had astro-turf across the Tube platform, with tennis court markings).

We took the shuttle bus to the grounds, which was a mistake for us, because we were joining the famous queue, meaning once we got off the bus, we had to walk about a mile to get to the back of the queue, and then walk some more to get through the front gates, doubling back and crossing over on our past several times.

Once inside with your Ground Only Passes, it was fantastic. Even though it was 6 p.m., matches were still being played on all the courts, and thousands of people milled around the grounds. We got to see Sue Barker from her broadcast booth (reference lost on US fans). We also were one row behind the perimeter on Court 16 to see the No. 9 seed Na Li beat another ranked player. The boys were amazed at how fast the balls flew by and how hard they hit them.

As the day wound down, we got lucky when two older women stopped the boys and asked them if they'd like to go see some matches on Court No. 1. By this time, it was a women's doubles match for which not many people stayed. The guard either didn't notice or didn't care that we only had two tickets for three people, and it didn't matter any way since the court was only half-filled.

All in all, it was a fantastic memorable day I can't decide if I'm a bad mother for getting the boys home at 10:45 p.m. on a school night, or a good mother for taking them to Wimbledon. Maybe it's a little of both.

I got to go back to Wimbledon the following Wednesday for the men's semi-finals with the tickets we won in the lottery for Court No. 1. We got to see Rafael Nadal play, and even better, I got to see Rafa change his shirt! (which he did frequently between sets). It was just as much fun the second time.

We'll do it again next year, for sure.

London Elephant Parade

This summer, London has been taken over by a herd of elephants. Not literally, obviously, because it probably would have made the news. These elephants are part of Elephant Parade London 2010, and will be auctioned off next week to raise money to help in the conservation of the endangered Asian elephant.

For the past few weeks, we've been on an elephant hunt. With 259 elephants in total, we have our work cut out for ourselves. Luckily, three of the elephants live in Greenwich, so we checked those off our list without breaking a sweat. After a lot of walking, we've managed to see 45 elephants, a paltry 17 percent of those on display.

But it's been a blast looking for elephants, particularly on a one day during the half term when we made it our mission to see as many as possible. All of the elephants will be on display together this weekend at the Royal Hospital Chelsea, but frankly, if you claim that you've seen all the elephants by seeing them all in one place, that's cheating. The elephant auction will be held on 3 July.

Without further adeiu, here are our favourites:

Thing One's favourite, No. 127 called Gloria:

Thing Two's favourite: No. 57, called Help!

(Green! His favourite colour)

My favourite was not my namesake, which is in front of the Royal Festival Hall on the Southbank, but the one pictured above, No. 45 New Map of London. I do love a map, even if it's on an elephant.

Hunt them while you can.