And the Award Goes To…: Oscar Post #4

As has been my custom for the last few years, I spent the weekend of the Oscars with Stephanie and her family.

Thursday, I left work a little early and drove to Lone Grove where I was greeted by my sister. Despite the late hour, we watched Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore which I got in a Scorsese boxset a few months ago.

The next day we met Mom and Dad at Santa Fe Steakhouse in Ardmore for lunch. Unfortunately, the waitress lost our order (though she never admitted it) so our food was incredibly late, and Dad had to take his to go and left for work. After this, I drove to Denison and hung out with Stephanie. We watched an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the first half of The Picture of Dorian Gray and then talked long into the night.

On Saturday, we went down the McKinney and stayed with the Faheys. Thomas and Matthew educated me on Pokémon and ABBA. That evening we watched The Reader which I enjoyed immensely. Since it was my second viewing, I noticed a lot more was going on then I realized.

On Sunday, I played MarioKart and various card games with Elizabeth, Thomas, and Matthew. I found out it’s embarrassing to lose a video game to a group of children. Thankfully, I was able to redeem myself at Five Crowns.

Later that afternoon, Stephanie, Jason, and I played a rousing game of SceneIt. Due to some crumby luck on Jason’s part and a few lucky guesses on mine, I nearly pulled off a win, but Stephanie came from behind for the win. Then Shari served a delicious spread of appetizers and dips. I’m not quite sure when I decided to emulate Shari when I grow up, but it was during the first wave of food.

During her Oscar interviews, Barbara Walters implied that either she or the awards will die in a bar with a martini and also that Miley Cyrus is a slut who tried very hard to destroy the virginity of one or more of the Jonas Brothers. She then proceeded to make Mickey Rourke cry by pointed asking how he felt about his failed marriage, drug problem, general breakdown, and dead dog. Then she lost steam after realizing that she had nothing to ask Hugh Jackman. “So you were on Broadway, and people thought you were gay and stuff” isn’t as compelling after seeing a grown man talk about the tuxedo he had made for his dog before she died.

I have nothing to report about the red carpet except that Tim Gunn is the gayest man alive much to the chagrin of musical theater majors and interior designers worldwide. Also, one of the interviewers either messed up her inflection during a joke or really didn’t recognize Matthew Broderick.

The awards this year were phenomenal. Hugh Jackman was a charming host, and his opening number was incredibly funny. (Of course, he’s hosted the Tony Awards several times, but this time people were actually watching.) The stage was elegant as were the set pieces during the design awards. I really have no complaints. I think the only way I would have been miffed was if The Duchess had lost best costume design or if a horde of crazed fanboys had taken everyone hostage and demanded The Dark Knight be named best picture.

While I failed dismally at guessing the winners (my one shining moment was choosing the right animated short), I did place second in the Bingo game and got a really cool Bingo game that I can’t wait to play!