Warning: This post is about the Oscar show. If you don't care in the least bit about the Oscars and/or you didn't watch the extravaganza last night you may want to skip by this post completely. Moments I liked - The interpretive dancers. My favorites: The Oscar and the van from Little Miss Sunshine. - The song with Jack Black, Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly.Smile. “I’m going to play the armless/legless man who teaches gangbangers Hamlet.” - The sound effects choir. Ellen. Now given, I already like her so I’m probably not the best judge of whether she made a good host. - Giving the screenplay to Martin Scorsese. (Did anyone else wonder if those were just blank pages orif they were filled?) - Getting Spielberg to take a photo of her and Clint Eastwood. - “Whoa! I wouldn't want to follow that! Our next presenters are…” Not everyone can get away with using the same joke twice but she pulled it off.
In the “okay, ENOUGH already” category: The Al Gore love that went on. Puhlease. I don’t necessarily disagree with his politics but I don’t want to hear about them over and over again at a party.
In the “huh?” category: What is GwenythPaltrow doing sitting in the front row? Seriously. I mean, I like her well enough but what has she done lately that makes her worthy of front row seats?
In the “I’m so busy trying to figure that out that I've completely missed what they’re talking about” category: The brooch/dress embellishmentCatherine Deneuve was wearing. What was that? It looked like a rose with a dagger piercing through it complete with blood dripping down. Odd.
In the “that’s so frightening I need to look away” category: Nicole Kidman. She looks as though she weighs about 83 pounds, has had a bit too much botox and… that bow on her shoulder? Heh?
In the “that’s so frightening I need to look away – Part 2” category: Jennifer Hudson singing. I thought we were definitely heading for a wardrobe malfunction. Those things were scaring me a little bit.
In the “that’s simply bad planning” category: For the first screenplay award we have Tom Hanks and Helen Mirren reading bits from the screenplays. I could listen to their voices indefinitely. For the second screenplay award? Kirsten Dunst and Tobey Maguire. Oh dear.
In the “okay, I really like you but that was an odd choice” category: Helen Mirren, holding up her Oscar proclaiming: “I give you the queen”.
In the “okay, I really like you but that was an odd choice – Part 2” category: Philip Seymour Hoffman. Seriously, get that man a comb.
In the “Phew, you should count yourselves lucky that you had Meryl Streep to save you” category: Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt attempting a lame Devil Wears Pradaschtick.
In the “Really? What are they doing presenting Oscars?” category: Ben Affleck, Jessica Biel, Jennifer Lopez, Jerry Seinfeld
My favorite Dreamgirl? Anika Noni Rose. And I haven’t even seen the movie.
Note to the President of the Academy: No one really wants to hear you speak – even if it’s sped up.
Note to the director of the Academy Awards: Want some ways to shorten the show? Here are a few ideas: - Get rid of the backstage guy. Seriously, who was he even? - Ditch Celine Dion singing a song that wasn't even from a movie. - Ditch the montages. Okay, I’ll give you the memoriam one but that’s it. What was up with that one about writers in the movies? Or foreign films from the past? Or the one about movies from America? - End the honorary Oscars. Or at the very least, make them last as long as any of the awards. Seriously, I think if the awards to EnnioMorricone and Sherry Lansing had been cut out the show would have been shorter by at least half an hour.
In the "oh my good heavens, is she seriously THAT shallow?" category: Me. Because, I'm not done yet. A second Oscar post (about OUR party, specifically, the food) to follow.
Feeling completely uninspired regarding posts these days (could be the gallons of snot that have entered our home again, could be the insanely busy work schedule I currently have). So, if all else fails, post someone else's words.
Favorite lines from The Amazing Race this week:
Kevin: Peru is beautiful Drew: I'm sure it is, but we're in Ecuador.
He never made it to 70. On August 8th, 2003 he died suddenly and tragically in a farming accident.
He was a smart and interesting, multi-dimensional man who loved the Lord, his family and his animals (among other things). He had many flaws which made him a struggle to live with and to love.
But, he was my dad and I loved him. I miss him. Every day. Even more so this week as I worked on this project.
P.S. The song: In honour of his humor. He loved to sing this song (with us) in an uber-twangy way with a smirk on his face. P.S.2 Interesting that my sister had a similar idea on this, his birthday. (I was going to link to it but linking doesn't seem to be working at the moment.) P.S.3 Siblings, I'm creating a cd for all of you made up of these photos and others from Mom's Big Box o' Photos. Be patient, it's a big job.
Scottish Proverb: Were it not for hope the heart would break. "They" are forecasting highs of 0 and 1 for early next week. I gotta say, sitting here at minus 30 makes the sarcastic/cynical/pessimistic side of me roll my eyes and say "yeah, whatever".
Because, honestly, there's only so much whiny "why me?" stuff that anyone can take. 1) Apartment for rent. Our home now smells exceedingly of vomit and poo (and farting but that's a whole other post and frankly, that one doesn't involve our daughter - not to point any fingers) and I'd have to say it's a tad overpowering. And, since it's approximately minus 1000 degrees outside (give or take) it's not like I can open the windows and air the place out. I think, all things considered, I'll just move.
2) She puked 5 times between the hours of midnight and 3 am. Oh wait, sorry, this was supposed to be a lighter post. Well, let me just say, SHE'S certainly trying her hardest to lighten the mood. All that puking and she was still up at 6:30, cheery as ever. Her PARENTS are wandering around the house a la zombies but she's happily chatting away.
3) Conversations between 2 people at 3 am can be unenlightened at best. Conversations between those same 2 people who have also been cleaning poo and vomit nonstop for days? Completely pointless.
J-L: So, wanna talk about our feelings? ccap: Sure. I am feeling your hand in my hair and it's annoying me. Your turn. J-L: I'm feeling like if that computer doesn't shut up I'm going to take a gun to it. ccap: Okay, Elvis.
Seriously, if I'm to be any good at EITHER of these roles I have to develop a thicker skin
I just got home from picking up my sick child. And I cried all the way there and all the way home. Why? Because I feel HORRIBLE that I sent my child to daycare when I KNEW that she was sick. And also, because I feel horrible that I had to leave work early two days in a row. Seriously, I suck at being an employee AND at being a mother. And I don't know what to do about it. I know, I know, I should just rush home and not care in the least about my place of employment. But, know what? I do care. I want to be an employee. I also want to be a mother. AND, I want to be good at both of them. But I'm not. And I just worry far too much about what others think. It's unhealthy and I need to stop. But I don't know how.
I worry about my daycare lady. I worry that she thinks my daughter is not important enough to me and how dare I leave her with a bed that's been pooped in.
I worry about my friends and family. I worry that they look down on me because I go to work when I should be staying home with my daughter and be happy in that role.
I worry about my coworkers. (I'm the only one at my place of employment that has young children who does not have a close/convenient back-up plan (ie. stay-at-home wife, parents etc.)) I worry they all think I'm slacking as the new girl.
I worry about the other parents at the daycare. I worry that they think I'm horrid for possibly infecting their children.
I worry about my mom and my in-laws and how they must be astonished that I would ever question staying home when my child is sick.
I worry that my boss is questioning why he hired me if I need to run off and be with my daughter.
I worry that my daughter will one day look back on this (not this exact time, thankfully, she won't remember that far back) and wonder why I didn't just automatically put her first.
It all just seems so completely overwhelming and tragic to me right now. And I feel weighted down and at some point I need to stop crying so that I can at least take care of my daughter.
The comments are off on this one. I just don't know that I can take any advice or soothing words right now. If you feel a need to contact me you'll have to find some other way.
# of ponchos? 1 # of sweatshirts? 1 # of undershirts? 2 # of tops? 4 # of sweaters? 1 # of pairs of pants ? 4 # of sick children? 1 # of parents who are tired of poo and vomit and washing out clothes? 2
I am a tea snob. In my mind there is no reason to drink tea unless the water has boiled. I often ask in restaurants now because I just don't enjoy the taste of tea if it's only made with hot water.
At my new place of employment they only have this:
I miss my afternoon tea-time. (At my last place of work around 2 or 3 in the afternoon someone would put on a pot of tea and shout around the office that it was on for those of us who drank tea.)
And so, a few weeks ago I bought myself an electric kettle. Yes, I'm a little embarrassed to have it here. And yes, some people have rolled their eyes about it. "We HAVE a hot water dispenser". Whatever. This afternoon I went to use it. Finally. Washed it out, filled it with water, plugged it in by my desk, sat back to wait for my steaming goodness... and promptly blew a power cord.
So now not only are they rolling their eyes at me, they're snickering too.
Apparently she's also her daddy's girl. (and once again, with the shoes)
J-L is a man of routine. He is organized and prefers it if life follows a schedule.
Apparently his daughter might lean the same way.
Every morning once Mom has gotten her dressed she picks up her shoes from beside her bed and carries them to the kitchen to greet her father where he feeds her breakfast and puts on her shoes while she's in the high chair.
This morning we were nearly finished dressing and she leaned over to look for her shoes. They weren't there. (J-L had already taken them to the kitchen.) She burst into tears. You'd think her world had just caved in.
Thankfully, it was righted fairly quickly as J-L brought them back to their designated spot.