AHHH! The OSCARS!!! TONIGHT!!

I love watching the Oscars for a few simple reasons:


1.  I love movies.  So much.  No, like I don't think you get how much.  Like REALLY.  Never mind, you'll never understand.  You just don't GET me.  
2.  I love looking at all the dressy glitzy-ness of the red carpet.

3.  I love MAKING FUN of the unfortunate choices made by famous people's stylists.  Seriously.  Who allowed THIS to happen:

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Shame on you, Demi.
4.  I love making it a competition to see who can get more correct guesses.  I thrive on the evil competitive nature that flows through my veins.
5.  I love being RIGHT.  Oh, the glory of being right and being able to put some sort of celebratory mark on that category to show that I was RIGHT and I KNOW THINGS and I am EVAH SO SMART.  What a rush.


Here is what I DON'T like about the Oscars:
1.  Too long.  Skip the crap I don't care about and get straight to the stuff I DO care about.  But this is true of everything in my life.  Wouldn't that just be fan-bloody-tastic if everything in your life could be edited to only show things you care about WHEN you want to see them.  Le Sigh.
2.  When the stupid jerkfaces who are actually allowed to vote are WRONG.  Like, when Quentin Tarantino or Martin Scorsese or Little Miss Sunshine do not win awards when they are supposed to.


Also, this year I did not properly plan for the event.  I forgot they were coming up, and I ALSO forgot that I still had 20 papers to grade.  And there is NO WAY I can justify not getting those papers back to my students tomorrow at noon.  So, so far I am making good progress on the papers, but I certainly did not imagine my magical Oscar evening including a pile of papers on my lap.  


Finally, although this really doesn't FLOW (like I didn't bother to create a THESIS and then have everything flow naturally from it and wrap up nicely at the end), I must say a little something about the Best Picture category.  Nearest and dearest to my heart, it causes me the most anguish when the film I want is not chosen.  Therefore, I am having a great deal of anxiety about this year and my amazing, precious Inglourious Basterds.  


Oh, Quentin, the fact that you made this film for me?  You have no idea how happy it makes me.  In my heart, my brain and my pants.  This movie is perfection in every way, and the magic does not dissipate with each additional viewing, like some other flash-in-the-pan movies do.  No, every time I watch this movie, I feel every emotion you are supposed to feel when watching amazing films.  I want to name my baby Quentin because of you.  (Jeremy said no.)


But I know you will not win.  I feel it in my Avatar-hating bones.  "Oh, hi, my name is James Cameron, and I have a ton of money and a ton of computers, and I love naked blue people and I can make up dumb fake languages and I don't want to actually FILM a movie and direct actors and do the things you are SUPPOSED TO DO, so I will just pay a bunch of nerds to make it on a computer."  Jerkface.  


I want to stab his jerkface and steal the Best Picture statuette and place it lovingly in Quentin's deserving hands.


But I won't, because Baby Dimick doesn't deserve to be born in prison.  It's not his/her fault that momma is bat-shit crazy.  So I will scream at my TV and maybe punch the couch a few times.  


I can't wait.