Oh by the way.

Have I got any Project Runway fans out there?

Anybody seen this week's show?

We must discuss.



Although, while reveling in my disgust, I did find this little tid bit from Gawker's PR Recap that made me giggle like a little girl in the middle of work. Been doing that a lot lately. *Must control emotions*

You just try and get that image of Tim Gunn chunking candies at Mila. Guarantee you can't. I've tried. *Insert more giggle fits*

Cooking Win!

Well, it may not have been the smoothest-sailing win, but a win, nonetheless. I'm placing all faults that occurred on the fact that my cookware is packed away in Tuscaloosa under boxes and boxes of crap I should have just thrown away...I mean really, who needs 14 vases? Thanks to my need to accessorize a room with fake flowers, I have no access to my non-stick pan. Apparently the Residence Inn does not invest in Teflon, so needless to say, mid-sautee I had to do a quick switch from their large skillet to my recently-purchased-because-I-couldn't-cook-eggs-except-for-in-the-microwave-because-of-their-awful-pans (and very small) omelet pan. It was the "onions and chicken" equivalent of "fat guy in a little coat."

Same situation. Slightly less destructive outcome.

Anyway, despite the "too much booty in da pan," (Ah, like how I turned 2 Live Crew into something culinary? Yeah me too.), the start of my Coconut Chicken Curry could not be destroyed. When I found this recipe on one of my favorite cooking blogs (My Kitchen Cafe)I knew I had to make it. Lurv the curry. And love the smell. My lord, it's like a big, warm Indian hug. And it lingers for-ev-er. I'm sure my co-workers wondered if I had doused my clothes in masala, but I don't care. Mmmmm. Delicous. Would you like to meet my lovely? Alrighty then.

What's the best part? (Besides the jasmine rice and naan [and since the Residence Inn doesn't come with a built-in tandoor, had to pick that up at Wal-Mart. I heated it though...So I'm taking credit]) Ah, the best part is that I have a huge Tupperware container of leftovers. Normally I don't dig the leftovers. But for this...Oh, I'll make an exception.

Bon appetit, everyone!

Top 3 Thursday: Celebrity Style!

Oo this is a good one because I do love the famous people. No, really. I do. So I've decided to pick my top three based on who I'd want to be friends (or something more scandalous) with in everyday life. And so, without further ado:

#3 Javier Bardem

Aka, "Hummena hummena Javi." First saw him in The Sea Inside, and I mean, he was playing a 50-year-old quadriplegic and I still fell for him. Hello, charming. Then, holy flashback, Batman. We got to see the real Javi. The crazy hot Javi. And love was solidified. And he's Spanish. And he's won an Oscar. Bam.

#2 Anne Hathaway

Lovely, lovely, Annie. Is there anyone who doesn't love Anne Hathaway? She's gorgeous, talented and low key. Wanna be her friend.

#1 Ed Helms

Ok, so I think Ed is wonderful. Whether he's playing Andy Bernard, Stu the dentist or picking his banjo (Yes, he plays banjo, and he is awesome.), Ed just makes me happy. And he does a killer Tom Brokaw and Gay Al Gore.

Honorable mentions: Stanley Tucci because I want to marry "Stanley Tucci as Paul Child." Helen Mirren because I so want to be her when I grow up. Come on, she's crazy hot for a 65-year-old. David Walliams/Matt Lucas because they're crazy funny. And British. And Meryl. Because she can rock Sophie's Choice and Death Becomes Her. How many people can say that?

New crush.

So, um. I don't get crushes on real people. Like, people I actually know. Just not wired that way. I do, however, get the occasional TV crush. (Oh, stop judging-I know y'all do, too.) Sadly though, it's not even a cool TV crush. They never are (e.g. Joel McHale, Adam Richman, Ed Helms).

The current little ball of love I have is for Biggest Loser Sam. Love Biggest Loser. Beginning of the season, I called little country boy, Daris to be the one to get super-mega-foxy-awesome hot by the finale. I mean, he had the twangy voice, the curly hair...*insert potential swoon,* but nope. It's been Samoan Sam that has caught this biddy's eye.

Just check out my hot, glistening clavicle. No wonder the biddy wants some.

Sister gets the text every week: "Oh m'gah Sam is gonna be/is/no really he is so hot." I don't know if it's the forming six pack, the tribal ink or the manly-crying-love he shows for his cousin that's on the show too...I just know he's got something and I dig it.

Sadly, upon actually Googling to try and get a decent picture, I found out that he and Stephanie, another contestant on the show, are dating and in love. Which is adorable, but...He was mine first. Jealous biddy.

Have a feeling there's gonna be another proposal at the finale. Booo. But maybe my initial intuition will be right and lil Daris will be crazy hot, and that'll cushion the blow.

Ok, that's all for today. Think I'll try and go get a life. Wish me luck.

Didn't know Canadians were Socialists. Those bastards.

Because apparently when you have free health care/mandatory health care you are a socialist. Is that not right? Because that's what my Facebook-status-frenzy-news-feed said at oh, 9:53 last night.

See, I thought that making insurance accessible, non-restrictive and required (because, come on, it should be), would be a good thing. Plus, Congress actually did something. A big something. And that hasn't happened in a while, right? (Time out. This is being said by a girl who has no real interest in political matters, hasn't done real research on this bill [but neither have a hell of a lot of these jackasses on my news feed], but I know when my President is or is not a socialist. Just sayin. Time in.)

I am all for speaking your mind and having your opinion heard. When it's something relevant. And spelled correctly. And grammar friendly. I'm sorry, but if you do one of the following I will not listen to what you say, take you seriously or not crinkle what eyebrows I have in your general direction:

1. Misspell any of the following: government, Obama, socialist (e.g. soshalist, socalist or sochialest), insurance or Congress.

2. Use excessive punctuation. For example, "That Obuma is a f*ckin idiot!!!!!!!" (Also see item 1 for why this is unacceptable.)

3. Slander/Libel. Not sure where social networking falls. I need a smart law kid to tell me which item #2 would be classified as. What's more important is that you're talking about the President of the United States on your Facebook, and you should show a little respect. Leader of the free world, and all. (Oh, wait. Apparently we're not free anymore. Because now we all have health care.)

4. Any annoying grammatical faux pas: "It's" instead of "its". "Its" instead of "it's." Accept/except, affect/effect, passed/past, there/their/they're confusion.

5. If you say "stupidest." Seriously? You could only look *more stupid* if you said "most stupidest." Such a winner.

6. Threat to jump ship and move to Canada. You know what I say? Go for it. But you'll have free health care, and thus, will be a socialist. So...Enjoy the trip, Karl Marx.

7. If your "Obama sucks." status has elicited more than seven responses and they're all on your side. Buhh.

Yeah, I think that's enough for now.

And because of my vast knowledge on the subject (heh heh heh), I've decided to go to an awesome source that really does put things in perspective. It's not mean, pro, or anti. It's just the truth. Ladies and gentlemen, David Sedaris [if you don't know Sedaris please refer to my Things I Lurv post]:

(In response to a question asked regarding the difference between America and France's health care system)

Allow me to answer with kidney stones. I had my first one at the age of 34. At the time I was living in New York, and had no health insurance. Never in my life had I experienced such pain, but I couldn’t afford to go to the hospital, and so I passed it at home, not knowing until the end what it actually was. (I thought I was delivering Satan’s baby through my penis.)

I had my second kidney stone seven years later, in Paris. It was ten o’clock in the morning, and after looking at my options in the phone book, I took the metro to a hospital in the 15th. Two minutes after walking through the door, I was in a private room. Delicious, mind-numbing drugs were delivered to my blood stream by way of a tube and life was beautiful. I was in the hospital for four hours, and as I was leaving, I asked the receptionist how I was supposed to pay.

“Oh,” she said, “We’ll send you a statement.”
“But you never even asked me my name.”
“Really?”

A few weeks later I got a bill for the equivalent of seventy dollars, this because I’m not a French citizen, and am therefore not entitled to free care.

I got my third kidney stone a few months ago, while on a lecture tour of the United States. The hospital I went to was in Westchester county and the service was outstanding. Maybe I arrived at the slowest time, but, like in France, I was waited on immediately, and the doctor and nurses could not have been more pleasant. Again I was there for four hours, though this time the bill came to $5,800. Not including medicine.

I’m completely fascinated by the health care debate going on in the United States, especially by posters of Obama with a little mustache drawn on his upper lip. Is that what Hitler is really known for, his health care plan? To quote Bill Maher, “I haven’t seen this many pissed off old white people since they canceled, “Murder She Wrote.”

Now I live in England. I’ve just been granted Indefinite Leave To Remain, which allows me access to the N.H.S.

Ah, Dave can fix anything. Let's face it. Our real problem is that we don't like change. It's true, right? Especially if change is initiated by someone who you didn't initially approve of. But sometimes we have to have a little faith in people and their knowledge and trust that what is best to happen will happen.

And I've got to throw this last tid bit in for the sake of its timing and, well, how awesome it was. If you didn't catch the sneak peek of Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution on ABC last night, look for the big premiere on Friday. Jamie Oliver revolutionized school lunches in England and he's bringing his ideals over here to change the way we eat, and hopefully making us a healthier, more educated country. He's met with harsh resistance and uproar (Sound familiar, America...?), but we get the feeling that he's going to make a difference. The last few minutes of the show was actually preempted for the announcement of the pass of the health care bill. Hello, good/coincidental timing...Now let's see if Obama can go all Jamie Oliver and make us believe so much that we cry. Like Jamie did. Seriously. Weeping. He cares so much! Lurv.

Ok, covered "politics" and TV. That seems pretty successful. I'm calling it a day. Until next time, let's all mellow out and use Facebook the way it was meant to be used: to get recruits for Mafia Wars and constant reports on your daily activities.

March Madness

So the boys have gone all crazy-like, yes? Brackets and onions and Elite 8s, oh my! I got nothin. My bracket last year was a sad, sad, paltry imitation of an educated guess. I guess I just don't care. But there is one thing I certainly do care about: baked goods.

Which is why this touney is my tourney.



Oh yes. This is going to be my year. I'm calling wedding cake in it to win it. Write it down. I know I already have. So let's all play along and make sure my dreams of being a master bracketeer come true.

Today we've got the top seeded birthday cake up against the sad, excuse for a dessert, fruit cake (Jim Gaffigan time out: "I don't understand fruitcake. Fruit, good. Cake, great. Fruitcake, nasty crap." Time in.), and in the pie circle we've got America's own apple pie against...grasshopper. Only thing I know about that pie is fake-pregnant-glee-wife ordered it in a restaurant. Thought they made it up. Anywho, it's real and up against the champ!

Let's get to work, kids!

Oh, P.S. if you're in to actual basketball goodness, check out my buddy Tyler's blog. He knows things.

Top Three Thursday!

And the top 3s are back! This week we're delving into the Top 3 Places I've Been.


And now comes the confession...This biddy doesn't get out much. I mean, I've been places, but not enough times to love or sober enough to appreciate (I'm talking to you, every college trip I took. Yes, we went to Nashville, Memphis and Gatlinburg...But we got distracted).

I guess my limited travel experience all started when I was a kid. We didn't really vacation. About all we could handle was a once-a-year trip to the beach. Know why? That's as far as Sister and I could go without killing each other. God bless my parents. We were horrid together, and even more horrid in confined spaces. So since then, I've done your standard couple of cruises, class trip to Spain (which doesn't feel quite as special to talk about anymore since so many people went), and yeah...That about covers it. Unless you count the 8th grade trip to Washington D.C., which I don't because we spent the majority of the time looking for fake Oakleys. Hellooo cool kids.

Pretty sure these were mine. I also had them in gray. Broke them at soccer practice.
Still haven't gotten over it.

And so that brings me to my point. I'm changing this up a little and talking about my favorite *specific* places. Did I just blow your mind? I'm taking this challenge and turning it on its head. Watch out world! Let's get it started:

1. Sister's Apartment in ATL

Yes, Sister and I cursed each other when we were kids and had to share floaties, but now we lurv each other. She's my best buddy and, sappily enough, I can't wait for us to get married and have kids because our families are gonna be tight! Seriously. We'll be the kind they make TV shows about. (Like, real TV, not Trading Spouses or Hoarders). And I love visiting because there's just tons of DVRing, Publix pizza, Steel and dur-da-dur Roxie (that'd be her adorable pup and it's "I'm a little special"/riding the short bus fanfare).

2. NCAA Tennis Tournament, Athens, GA

Random, yeah you could say that. But me, Mom and Dad-O went a few years ago and stayed for about a week. I just had the most fun bonding-as-a-grown-kid-with-the-folks. Despite the snore-a-mania that took place in our hotel and the massive sunburn, it was awesome. Really awesome. Plus I fell in love with John Isner. Knew him before he started playing Federer and Nadal. Makes me feel pretty empowered to say, "yeah...I knew how awesome he was when he was still just playing for UGA." Anyway, the tournament is back in Athens this year and I kinda hope (Part of me. Deep down. Won't actually admit it.) to be a little unemployed again so I can go. I mean really, who's gonna let a new hire leave for a week to watch people play tennis? Uh huh.

3. Adrienne and Alex's Apartment/The Commons, Tuscaloosa

I mean, really. These two apartments defined my social life from Junior year on up. It all started at the Commons. It's where my group formed (or, more apt, where I joined them), and the bonding over poker, cup scavengering (I more than once used one with a Care Bear emblem) and dirty bathrooms commenced. Once everyone had moved out of the Commons, Adrienne and Alex became the new hostesses. And I can't really complain. Much cleaner bathrooms. Whether the whole group was together for birthdays, Halloween, graduations, Friday nights, football, or well, Saturday nights there was bound to be laughter, a crier, a screamer, a throw-down, Circle of Death and hugs. Lots of hugs. I was usually the one initiating that that activity.

And there we are. My three favorite places! Not quite how this list was supposed to go, but...What can I say? I'm a rebel.

Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica

Have I mentioned my geese issue?

I've got geese. They live in my parking lot at the good ol' extended stay hotel. I don't know where they actually came from...I just know that now they like to hang out around my car.

Have I also mentioned my fear of animals in their natural habitat? Ok, I know that the Residence Inn and backyard of the Shell Station aren't exactly "natural habitats," but still. These quacking killers are not on a leash, and I consider any open area not surrounded by a pen "the wild." I think the real fear of geese/ducks/chickens began back when I worked summers with my dad at Maxwell Air Force Base. We'd occasionally have lunch by the lake and there was a little bastard with a clubbed webbed foot and a Napoleon complex. He'd stalk us and peck me and leave me stressed out and-in the end-mentally scarred. Buuhh. Just the thought gives me shivers.

I also fear that I'm going to become the next Dwight Shrute by hitting a goose with my car and bring it in to the office to prepare and enjoy.

I accidentally ran over it. It's a Christmas miracle!...He was already dead, and we Schrutes use every part of the goose. The meat has a delicious smoky rich flavor. Plus, you can use the molten goose grease and save it in the refrigerator, thus saving you a trip to the store for a can of expensive goose grease.

I do hope for my own mental and job stability that these suckers migrate. And fast. However, if the next time you see me I am decked out in mustard-colored shirts and challenge you to a game of beet trivia...It may just be too late.

Lesson Learned.

A few weeks ago I wrote on the phenomenon that is Lady Gaga. I considered making her a part of my life, or at least a part of my musical lineup. I mean, even the broadway collection has to take a break sometime, right? (Enough with the musical theater. You wish you had song and dance talent. Now you're overcompensating. We get it.) Anywho...I changed my mind. Yeah, yeah, Gaga represents good things like creativity and equality, but you know what else she's come to represent? Ridiculousness.

I present to you, the Telephone video:

If you're not one of the oh, 18 million people who have seen this already, take a gander because I'm about to host a snark-a-palooza that requires about nine minutes and 32 seconds of research.

First off, I watched this video of my own accord with zero intentions of disliking. Just call me, Tabula Rasa, my friend. Gaga effed this one up all on her own. (Well, on her, Beyonce, Tyrese Gibson and Jonas Akerlund's own)

And so:

10 Lessons Learned from Gaga's Telephone

1. Lady Gaga does not have a penis. Really, she doesn't. She's going to prove it to all of us with full-on-crotch-shot-can't-be-shown-before-9pm-look-at-my-vagina-galore. We get it. You're not packin. No Crying Game featuring LG in our future.

2. Honey Buns are now dirty things. I've never felt more uncomfortable watching someone eat a breakfast pastry as in this video. Buuhh.

3. LG doesn't listen to her songs before she makes videos. In interviews she's said that she wanted to create a video that is a commentary "on being overfed communication, advertisements and food in this country." Seriously? The song's about being out at the club, "sippin that bub" and not wanting to take her baby's calls. That's it. Subtext on society? You're dancing and don't want to answer your phone. That's the subtext.

4. If you want a video with a message, write a song with a message. Interpretation sucks ass. And having to explain interpretation sucks even more.

5. Sponsors (be them paid or unpaid) should sooo not be excited to be in this video. Straight from Gaga herself, "By the end of the video, it became so much more as we explored each scene it became about transsexual women and it became about making fun of American hallmarks like soda cans and cigarettes and mayonnaise and bread." Nice run-on sentence, Gaga... But more importantly, Wonderbread, Miracle Whip, Virgin Mobile, Diet Coke and PlentyofFish.com, hope you didn't pay much for that screen time because Gaga was making fun of you. She said it, not me.

6. Gaga will never be considered a "musician gone actress."

7. Beyonce should never have been a "musician gone actress."

8. Gaga kills people for no good reason. Ok, in Paparazzi she killed Skarsgard (uncool), but he did push her off a balcony, so...Fine. She and Beyonce kill Tyrese because he smacks waitress's asses, and is kind of a dick. But you could just break up with him, so...Kind of uncalled for. Then they poison everyone and dance around in red, white and blue. Is this the new American way? If so, I'm moving to Canada. They only have Alanis Morissette to deal with and she hasn't even been relevant since 2002. Much safer environment.

9. Even with a hell of a lot of money and only nine minutes of screen time there are plot holes. Seriously? Why is Beyonce in a hotel room by herself screaming into the phone? Thought this song was about not answering the phone...Just sayin. Plus, why is she there? I'm pretty sure anyone with outfits like Beyonce's character would not live in a room with cement walls. Come on.

And then there's Gaga dancing in a Shania Twain inspired leopard ensemble in the dead of night. Um. A. Where'd Beyonce go? She in the bathroom during this portion of the trip? B. The "story" never made it to nighttime. When is this happening? Come on, Gaga. If you're gonna be weird you at least have to explain yourself.

10. Lady G don't drive. What is this, Driving Miss Gaga? Beyonce spent the whole video carting her ass around. Wonder if she had to ask permission to go make water during the shooting...

And there it is. Rant complete. Served with a side of, let's face it, the truth.

Top Three Thursday

So my cousin Lacey invited me to join in on the Top 3 Thursday fun. Every week she blogs on her top 3 favorite somethings, and I give her props because picking my favorites of anything is crazy hard. Seriously. I can't mainstream my Facebook profile (as is the current trend) because I'm afraid of hurting my favorite things' feelings...You think I'm kidding. Anywho, welcome to this week's edition:

Ok, I've got several levels of favorite music: classic, current, broadway (Yeah, yeah you like the broadway. We know.), audiobook (It's on a CD. I listen to it in the car. I occasionally talk along...Wow, winner.) So for this top 3 picks I'm staying away from my standards: Elvis, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Talking Heads--Oh m'gah can't even stick to three in an example. I need work--and sticking with some of my current favorites.

#3 The Killers

Kind of defined my musical habits for the last four years of school. Do you know how many times I listened to the Day & Age album while I was working on my thesis? Neither do I. It was just that and Jersey Boys. Back and forth. Forever. Because that's how long that sucker took to write.

#2 Joshua Radin

I fell in love with Joshua Radin when Zac Braff told me to. Well, actually I think he first told Ellen to, and because I wanted to do what all the cool kids were doing I checked him out. And now I've got nothing but lurv for the laid back beautiful flow that is Joshua Radin. Mmmmm.

#1 Coconut Records

I've always had an unhealthy love of Jason Schwartzman (e.g. I own Shopgirl. Shopgirl. Because of him. Own. Geez.), so of course I'd fall in love with his band, yes? I could literally listen to his two albums (Nighttiming and Davy) over and over and over and over. Now you go listen to them too.

Ok, whoo! That was hard! Until next week...I'll be sweating bullets just thinking about the pressure. Kidding. I hope.

Oscar 2010 Recap!

Before the show:

Why is Barbra Wawa not going to do her pre-Oscar show anymore? If you want more time you should probably drop a project that, you know, actually takes time to do. Like the View. No one will miss it. I promise. Keep your one night a year gig!

Stephen Spielburg makes me cry. Or more appropriately his mother and how much he loves his mother makes me cry. If you watched the Oscars special you’d understand. I don’t even care what he did to Indiana Jones. All is forgiven.

What the eff, ABC. Kathy Ireland? Holy painfully awkward, Batman. I watch ABC red carpet coverage instead of TV Guide and E! to avoid interviewers like her and lo and behold you produce the worst one ever. Joey Fat-one could do better.

Why the eff were they there?

-Miley Cyrus (Um. You don’t even have a song nominated this year. Go home.)
-Taylor Lautner and Kristen Stewart (Seriously? Come on. Twilight is the last movie the Academy should be highlighting.)
-Zac Efron (Did 17 Again get an Oscar nod? Must’ve missed that one.)
-Jennifer Lopez and Mariah Carey (Seriously. How are Gigli and Glitter at all relevant to this event?)

Why the eff weren’t they there?

Brad Pitt and Angelina. Um, hi, Brad? You were in a nominated picture. One of your co-stars won. You need to be there. Loser. Hope you're having fun with your 27 kids.

The Fashion!! Faves and Buuuuhhs

Oh Sandra. What am I going to do with you. You've rocked the red carpet all awards season and now you look like an ice dancer. Buh.

Vera Farminga...High as a kite, but so not high fashion enough to pull this off.

Ugh. No no no. It's the yellow version of Molly Ringwald's sad Pretty in Pink prom dress. Tell me it's not. Was this a John Hughes tribute too?

Good God. The Project Runway snarky Gods coined the term "pooping fabric." Well, JLo, you're peeing fabric. Gross, yes. But so is the dress.

Boob flowers. That's all you get, Charlize.

From the bust up: lovely. That's the best part of Avatar. The top of Zoe's dress. Then holy wack-a-doodle. Bluuh.

Thank goodness! Rachel McAdams, I'm calling you best dressed. How gorgeous is this?? Love.

Is it Captain's Dinner on your Carnival cruise? Gah, go home Mariah.

Maggie are those mallards on your dress? Geeez. But your bro's hot so...I don't care.

How pretty are you Elizabeth Banks?? Not only was she a trooper for hosting the Oscars techie awards, she looks frickin awesome.

Lovely lovely lovely Meryl!! And you know what makes me love her more? Her dress is by Chris Project-Runway-didn't-get-to-show-at-fashion-week-bc-he-used-human-hair March. Love him. Love her. Love. Love. Lurv.

The show’s about to start! Ok, first off Adam Shankman (hello, I love you and the night’s producer) promised to keep the show short this year. Someone’s a big fat liar. Who didn’t even try. And I know this because…

Pointless stuff that should have been cut:

Best Actor/Actress nominees on display: Was the Academy boasting that all the nominees were present and alive this year? Did you want to give their seat fillers an extra couple of bucks and pay them to be their escorts down the stairs as well? Who knows…I just know it took up a good five minutes of my time.

Horror tribute hour: First off it would have kept Taylor and Kristen at home for the evening. Secondly, Twilight, Young Frankenstein and Edward Scissorhands are not horror flicks. Yes, Twilight is in fact “horror”ible…but that’s another film category entirely. Keep them out of the montage. Third, um…Exorcist wasn’t the last horror movie to win any Oscars. Hello, Academy. Forget Silence of the Lambs? Pretty much swept the awards. And not exactly a comedy. Pretty sure this counts. Finally, even though Taylor said so horror is not the most popular genre. It might come in fourth after oh, I don’t know…Comedy. Drama. Action. Buh.

Best musical score dance tribute: Seriously Shankman? I know you’re a choreographer and God bless ya, I love you for it, but come on!!! Way too long. Irrelevant. Just kinda stupid.

As much as I love John Hughes…And I do. I really really do. That was the longest tribute ever. And I’m pretty sure the other dead people feel bad about themselves now because they only got about oh…three seconds of screen time. If they got any at all (ahem, Bea Arthur and Farrah Fawcett. I don’t care if they were mainly TV stars and their few movies include Mame and Man of the House. Show some respect.)

Exhausting short film and sound intros: Two of the most lackluster categories of the evening. It makes sense to spend half an hour on each category then, right? Oh m’gah make it go away. I should be respectful. Appreciate these guys. But come on. I know in a few years they’re both going to be moved to the pre-Oscars techie Oscars show. I mean, do you see how far away they seat these people? They lose half of their speech time rappelling down from the balcony. Cut the crap and just chunk them their award out of one of those t-shirt guns.

As far as the actual awards:

I love that we’re starting the show off with a musical number! (I mean, really-Is there any better way to do it?) And you can’t go wrong with NPH. Especially when NPH comes in a sparkle tuxedo that would make Liberace say, “That might be a little much.” Sadly, I don’t really remember it. I’m still singing, “The Reader. I haven’t seeeeen the Reader. Went down to the theater but there was a line, of all the people watching Iron Man a second time. The Reader,” in my head a year later so…Yeah. Retention is possible.

Steve and Alec aren’t that funny. Boo. There are moments of funny, but with two (count em, two) hosts, that on their own should be funny, “moments of funny” just doesn’t cut it.

…I was right!! Yes, I guessed the most obvious winners of the night (i.e. Monique, Christoph Waltz, Jeff Bridges and Up). Eh, whatev. It makes me feel special when I’m right. Even if pretty much every one watching was right too…

The documentary short winner totally got Kanyed by some bitch even less coherent than Kanye. Poor fella.

Best Presenters: Tina Fey & Robert Downey Jr., Steve Carrell & Cameron Diaz, Ben Stiller

Most Awkward Presenters: Miley Cyrus and Amanda Seyfried, Penelope Cruz (bless her, she still doesn’t have the English down yet. But she does have Javier Bardem so…Still a winner.), Anna Kendrick & Zac Efron and Tyler Perry

The Oscars hate dolphins. But I hate gratuitous “text for money” banners at AWARDS SHOWS. So I call it a draw. Gratuitous give us money pleas are what acceptance speeches are for. Use them in that manner.

Ellie badge buttons make me cry. I’m still very sensitive thanks to Spielburg and John Hughes.

I wish I could type how Jeff Bridges says “man.” I guess the closest would be “maenuh.” Regardless, that’s how I’m gonna say it from now on.

Despite my love of Meryl, Sandra wins best actress. Enjoy it hun because I bet it won’t happen again, you will however make 17 more movies that I’ll probably love though.

The biggest eff you of the evening goes to Avatar. Because of Sister I won’t elaborate, run around singing “nanny nanny boo boo!” or even say, “Bah ha!! Guess it does still take good writing and acting to win an Oscar. Boo yah!” Nope. I won’t do any of that at all. Heh, heh, heh…Go speak Na’vi to someone who cares Jimmy.

And poor Kathryn Bigelow. First woman director to win an Oscar. Tiny distribution movie taking home the grand prize. And you show up in a horrid bridesmaid gown. Oh whatev, you know she’s too happy to care.

Overall, happy-tired-bored-content-relieved. That’s pretty much how it went.

I still wanted Basterds to win…

At least it wasn’t Avatar.

Bah ha!

A Second Christmas.

I lurv awards season. My heart’s been all aflutter since the Golden Globes, and now it’s time for the big kahuna, the I Ching, the be all and end all, the fat lady has sung, Elvis has left the building…The Oscars

Come this Sunday, I will be spent from a wonderful family weekend in Atlanta (we’re surprising Daddy for his birthday with tickets to see Lewis Black [and if for some reason Dad-O is reading this…totally just kidding. That’s not your surprise.]), and Sister and I will be settled in, most likely with gluttonous takeout, primed and ready for the festivities to begin!

So in honor of the occasion, I thought I’d relive some awesome Oscar moments (at least awesome from the past 20 years. I mean, I know Joan Crawford won an Oscar for Mildred Pierce, but that’s only because I’ve seen Mommy Dearest one too many times. Which is worth a blog all its own…But I figure I can speak with some authority on movies from 1990 and on up).

Best Year of Best Pictures: 1995

The Nominees: Four Weddings and a Funeral, Pulp Fiction, Quiz Show, Shawshank Redemption and Forrest Gump (The Winner: Forrest Gump)

Seriously. How did they pick that year? Even though I’ve only seen FWAAF a couple of times, you can’t not love it, and that’s saying a lot since I can’t stand Andie MacDowell. And the rest are some of my all time favorites. Way to go ’95!

Excuse me; What won?: 1999 and 2004

1999: Shakespeare in Love. Ok, so…I know I was only 14 when this came out, but I’m pretty sure I knew even then that it barely deserved a nomination, let alone a best picture win. Other nominees: Elizabeth (eh), Life is Beautiful, Thin Red Line and Saving Private Ryan (it’s been a while since I’ve seen it, but I say that’s more of a winner than Shakespeare…). Ignored (aka not amazing but on par with the nominees): Primary Colors, Gods and Monsters, Truman Show

2004: Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. Buhh. The film of five endings. That’s all I really remember, a bunch of trickery and fake-outs. Other nominees: Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Mystic River (was sure this was winning…just kidding apparently) and Seabiscuit. Overall seems like another lackluster sort of year though.

Best Picture Victories

These just made me happy/giddy/smiley inside.

2009: Slumdog Millionaire. The little movie that could. It beat out naked Kate Winslet in the Reader, CGIed Brad Pitt in Benjamin Button, making out with James Franco Milk and…Frost/Nixon. Truly though, Slumdog’s the first movie I had seen in a while that really made me feel something deep down. I actually cared about the characters, and I still do even after countless screenings. Yay Slumdog!

2008: No Country for Old Men. Even when they disappoint (yeah, I’m talking to you Burn After Reading), the Coen Brothers kick ass, and I love this movie. And Javier Bardem, one of the most intimidating villans with the worst hair. (Oh, and the movie also beat out blah blah Atonement, quirky Juno, boring Michael Clayton and nope never saw it There Will Be Blood).

1990: Driving Miss Daisy. What? I just love Jessica Tandy. “Hoke, you’re my best friend.” Oh it just makes me wanna hug somebody.

Teeny Part: Big Award. To Deserve or Not to Deserve. That is the question.

To Deserve: Anthony Hopkins, Hannibal Lector (Silence of the Lambs) won Best Actor in 1992 and was on screen for 25 minutes. He rocked it. And is by far the most charming cannibal I’ve ever seen.

Not to Deserve: Judi Dench, Queen Elizabeth (Shakespeare in Love) won Best Supporting Actress in 1999 for being on screen for a whopping eight minutes. Effin Judi Dench, man. I say they should’ve given it to Kathy Bates for Primary Colors, at least she was, you know, in the movie.

Biggest Pet Peeve:

A movie being nominated for best picture without also being nominated for best actor, actress or writing. How is it possible to have a kick ass movie without kick ass acting and writing? Riddle me that Avatar and LOTR!!

Favorite Year to Watch:

2009. Easy. Hugh Jackman hosted and there were musical numbers galore. Seriously best awards show I’ve ever seen. Oh let’s watch the opening number again, shall we? We shall!

Best Opening Ever

And now here we are in 2010. I feel like I’ve really dropped the ball this year. Of the ten (woo hoo ten!) nominees I’ve only seen five. Woops. I’m sure that if I were still fully-unemployed instead of semi-unemployed I would have found a way to see all on the list this year…But oh well.

The Nominees: A Serious Man, An Education, Avatar, District 9, Inglorious Basterds, Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire brought to you by Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry (or more commonly known as P:BOTNPBSBTYBOWATP), The Blind Side, The Hurt Locker, Up and Up in the Air.

Anyway, despite there being ten nominations this year, how were some still snubbed? I’m sorry if you’re too classy Academy, but Hangover won best comedy at Golden Globes. It deserves a little love (As does Stu's Song for best song. Epic, my friend. Epic. And most definitely known by more people than any Princess and the Frog song.) And Julie and Julia? Really? No love? You’d really rather watch District 9 than Meryl? Fine.

But it doesn’t really matter that I have only seen half the movies because apparently the only two that matter are Avatar and the Hurt Locker. Ok. Small soap box.

Hurt Locker: I see the merit, but it’s not a movie I fell in love with or care about that much. Sorry.

Avatar: Trite story. Big effects. Good movies can’t just be bells and blue whistles. I need a good story, one preferably that hasn’t already been told via Pocahontas, Fern Gully and Dances with Wolves. I don’t care if you hired a linguist to create the Na’vi language, James Cameron. Suck it.

I say give it to Inglorious Basterds. Hella entertaining and they blew the crap out of Hitler. You go Quentin!

And here’s what I know will be winning this year:

Mo’Nique will sweep the supporting actress category this awards season for Precious. And even though I haven’t seen it, she makes me want to, so I say enjoy your Oscar! (But shave the legs, this time, ok?)

Christoph Waltz will win supporting actor for Basterds. Why? Because he’s awesome. Best Nazi portrayal ever. Sorry Ralph Fiennes.

Jeff Bridges will win best actor for Crazy Heart. Didn’t see it, but I’m a total Jeff Bridges fan (from Duane Jackson to Gregory Larkin to The Dude, he very rarely does not rock), so I’m sticking with the hype and calling Bridges in it to win it.

Up will win best animated feature. Because I said so.

Happy Oscar Weekend Everybody!!

UFC: Vienna Sausages v Hostess Twinkie

Well. In the words of Porky Pig, “Th-th-th-th-that’s all folks!” The least surprising season of the Bachelor has come to a close, and from the proposal to the announcement of the new Bachelorette, we were left in a haze of “Yeah, I figured that would happen”ness. But before we get into this, I just want to share my evening with everyone, in order of events:

1. Gym

2. Tomato soup

3. THREE hours of the Bachelor

4. Diligent note taking

5. Parent Trap II (The most awesome, cheap, childhood-centric movie purchase ever).

6. Sleep

Am officially kind of a loser. Eh, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Good. Ok, so on with the show! We finally meet Jake’s family and man, when they’re not crying they are givin that stink eye. Look it!

I’m pretty sure they coined that facial expression. Jake goes on to describe the girls to his family, and normally my eyes would just glaze over as he talks about how different they are. How Tenley and Vienna are night and day. Completely different. Opposites. I get it. You heard it too, right? Well, apparently Jake doesn’t understand what those words and phrases mean because I happen to read this earlier that day, where he stated that, “Everyone says they’re apples and oranges, but they really aren’t. They are more like an orange and a tangerine. The way they express love is very different but when you get them down to their cores, they’re exactly the same girl.” He goes on to say when it gets down to the end we’ll all see it too. Jake is officially a ratard. Because lo and behold. It’s the end. And you’re the one saying how different they are. Jake also goes on to say that he loves Vienna because she makes him feel like he’s the only guy in the room. Um. Jake. You are the only guy in the room. Literally. She doesn’t have to try that hard. I can’t take this guy and his inability to form coherent thoughts anymore. Buh.

By the way, did we all catch that Jake’s first descriptive adjective of Vienna was “smart.” Heh, heh. Really? Yeah. That Hooters education really did her good. And speaking of Hooters, apparently there’s a chicken wing shortage in the state of Alabama. And that’s the top news story at 10. I don’t even need to elaborate.

Ok, Tenley’s the first to meet the folks, and she comes in bright eyed and bushy tailed with flowers for mom. Points for Tenley! And I gotta say, working in college admissions has done her good because she kicked that family interview’s ass. I mean, there were water works within the first 30 seconds of her talking. The chick may shit rainbows and live in a cartoon…but she’s good. Mom wants Tenley to be the glue to hold the family together, Dad can’t even say anything because he’s still crying. I have a feeling this family is going to adopt her anyway.

Jake worries that he hasn’t showed Tenley his playful/rough side. Well Jake, whose fault is that? It’s not her fault that you give her all the boring picnic, sit on the side of a mountain dates and you take Vienna bungee jumping. Eff. You can tell even after an impromptu family swim, that he’s not gonna pick her. Stupid cow.

Vienna’s next to meet the family. And she brings a fruit basket. Uhhh.

Well, I just thought you'd be getting tired of the same old stuff…Yes, truly, a little bribe never hurt

Bless her and her nine-year-old mentality. She can’t even express why she loves Jake sooooo much. “He’s sweet.” It’s ok, Vienna. I get it. Vocabulary is hard. We’ve established Tenley lives in a cartoon, and I live in a musical, so it was natural that all throughout Vienna Sausage’s jibber jabber I was singing in my head:

How do you solve a problem like Vienna?

How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

How do you find a word that means Vienna?

A flibbertijibbet! A will-o the wisp! A clown!

She’s got all of the quirks and none of the charm of Frauline Maria. She does not deserve Captan Von Trapp. She can have Rolfe, the little Nazi errand boy. Bless her though, she ain’t nothing but a poorly spoken, cockeyed flibbertijibbet. At some point in the evening the family starts to “warm” to her. One of the sisters-in-law cries for judging her…We can give a big “danke” to the producers for all but forcing the family to pretend to like her. Without this little intervention, the show would have ended in an even larger uproar than it did when he ended up picking the canned meat product..

Guess we can say adios to the family and move on to the last dates. Vienna and Jake mud wrestle. Bet she’s used to that…She seems like the type well-versed in establishments that cater to Mud Wrestle Mondays, 2 for $2 Jello Shot Tuesdays and Midget Wrangler Wednesdays. Anyway, I can’t pay attention to the rest of the date because of the horrid blur job done by ABC. Did anyone else see this??

Pretty sure she’s not wearing boyshorts. Congratulations for not even being able to keep your bathing suit out of your own ass.

End of the date arrives and Vienna lures Jake back to her room with the promise of a cheese platter. She greets him at her door with that ever so classy, I’m-not-wearing-underwear look in her eyes and proceeds to use the cheapest move in the book and give her promise-not-to-run-away-and-get-married-again ring. Ugh. I know she’s gonna win. Tenley’s shadow box can’t live up to that. Bluhhhh.

Jake has a date with Tenley the next day, but he’s too much of a grumpy puss to enjoy it. He’s “tired” aka Vienna performed fellatio on me and that doesn’t happen often, so it makes me quite sleepy. He tells Tenley he doesn’t think there is physical attraction (and he can’t explain what that means), and that bruises poor little Tenley. She compares him to her ex…Which means…Jake. You’re officially a dick. Even Ten thinks so. Despite all that, Tenley wants to prove they have physical chemistry which means the Disney princess is gonna take you to Funky Town. Prove that she’s a super freak, super freak, super freaky, and is in fact a brick…house. She’s gonna be livin it up when you’re goin down with love in the elevator, and any other sexually obscure nomenclature covered in “not quite oldies, but old nevertheless” hits.

Jake wakes up the next morning covered in what anyone else would consider physical attraction and I gotta say. Damn you, crazy hot St. Lucia. I miss his brr-it's-cold-in-here-flannel, because I can see bulge in those pj bottoms. Jake needs more substantial clothing. Yikes.

Vienna needs more beach wear, because if I see that ruffle bottomed bikini one more time I’m gonna scream, and what tha—Since when do we film Vienna in the shower? I thought that was Jake’s schtick. When was Vienna initiated into that soapy fraternal brotherhood. Guess that’s just one more thing that makes them soooo right for each other.

Sidenote: Jake has horrible taste in ties.

Time has come to propose to Vienna, so obviously Tenley’s helicopter arrives first. Her poor little heart won’t be full of joy in a minute. Somebody’s about to figure out that she’s gonna be dancing alone for a while. As soon as they see each other, you can tell she knows. Then they cry a lot. She hates you. She gets quite squeaky. We’ve established that Jake’s just a douche bag that would rather have Hooters and Chuck E Cheese cater his wedding reception. How do these people cry without getting blotchy?? I’m a complete mess if I even think I’m gonna cry. It’s TV magic.

Tenley’s off in her Escalade to a recovery consisting of Sleeping Beauty, my little pony and cookie dough. I wish her well.

Blah Blah Blah, Vienna’s out of the helicopter. Oh m’gah I love you so much. We’re gonna be sooooooo happy. Jake and I’s relationship is sooooo awesome. And by the way. You’re stupid. Jake, you are too. Every other girl that has ever said Jake and I’s is also stupid. “I” is not the fancy version of “me.” There’s a time to use it and a time not to, and I’m going to pull a quote from a Bachelor Blogger (who I can admit now that the season is over as to not lose readership) way way funnier and wittier than I.

Vienna shows us her long face—oh, and she appeared sad too—and we cut to an out of sequence interview with a dolled up Vienna telling us that she’s not going to let Ali “break up Jake and I.” Nice grammar, Vienna.

“I” is the first person singular subject pronoun, which means that it refers to the person performing the action of a verb. For example:

I want to go hot tubbing with Jake or;

Boring, vapid men are the ones I like; or

Ali and I are going to fight to the death.

“Me” is an object pronoun, which means that it refers to the person to which the action of a verb is being done or to which a preposition refers. For example:

When I threw myself at him, Jake told me to leave; or

Ali gave me a dirty look; or

Chris Harrison needs to talk to Ali and me.

And they said my English degree would never come in handy. Take that, people who never hired me.

Grammar lesson done. Insert cheesiest theme ever that I can’t hear without imaging a touching moment in a dramatic episode of Bosom Buddies.

I think Jeffrey Osborne should pop out of the mountain and give them a personal concert like Chicago did, but oh. Had I only known that was actually about to happen…I feel so sorry for that guy. But hey, at least he’s getting a paycheck.

Final thought: EFFFFFFFFF.

After the Final Rose comes on. Buh. And it starts up with Tenley looking back on what just happened. No no no no no no no. NO. We literally just saw this. Enough is enough, Bachelor. All I can think is that Hoarders is on, and I’d way rather watch that than Jake’s dribble.

By the way. Definitely won’t be watching Dancing with the Stars (like I ever do…), just hearing Kate Gosselin and Jake (with the promise of Vienna’s horse face in the front row each week) made me throw up in the mouth a little, so….I vote no.

Sister calls on her way home from work (Boo end of month closings!!!), to talk about the travesty so I ignore the happy couple, but I do get to witness the stunning-what-I-can’t-believe-it-that’s-crazy announcement that Ali will be the next Bachelorette. Buh. Whatever. And you know what Chris Harrison (yeah, I’m using your whole name host man; I mean business), apparently I’m not American, because I sure as hell didn’t fall in love with her. Girl couldn’t even comb her hair for the big announcement. And I think she’s had her lips done. Gia’s are still better. Team Gia! Buuuuuh. Not watching.

And so it comes to an end. What ever will I blog about now? I'm taking suggestions. What deserves a heaping dose of snark? Until we figure that out, I continue to wish you lurv, peace and tacky TV!