Predictably, I watched the Oscars last night. However, there was a huge part of me that just really wasn’t interested. I had watched Slumdog Millionaire (finally!) earlier in the day, so the only nominated film I hadn’t seen was The Reader, and I seriously contemplated watching that instead, but ultimately went for the awards show. We didn’t watch in real time, which was nice and meant we could fast forward through commercials AND boring acceptance speeches. And lame musical numbers (I mean, was this the Tonys? Seriously!). About halfway through we took a break so that Annie could drive a friend to the airport, and I watched an episode of Buffy, which was much more eventful than the Academy Awards.
I don’t know... there is something about the Oscars—it’s such a self-congratulatory night... I’m really just significantly less interested in awards and film accolades than I usually am, which I guess is refreshing. And yeah sure, it’s always fun to see the dresses—but meh... whatever...
In other news, I spent four hours on Saturday cleaning my room, which should give you a sense of how much unnecessary crap I had cluttering up all the space. It’s spotless now, and hasn’t looked this good since I moved in. What a feeling! I deserve an Oscar for most cleanest room or something.
Which reminds me, when I wanted to be an actress I was obsessed with these awards. In 8th grade I wrote an Oscar speech in which I thanked my orthodontist for my beautiful smile (I should really rue the day I met him because 8 years later I had to have braces and jaw surgery, so it’s probably my surgeon I should think for the killer grin) and considering that’s likely to never happen, I’m going to start giving myself some self-congratulatory award statuettes. So, hah.
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