Red Carpet Magistrate

Tomorrow is the greatest day of the year. It's my Christmas and Hunnukah and whatever other religious holiday wrapped into one. Yes ladies and gentlemen, it's Oscar night.

For those who don't know the Academy Awards trump all of my other obsessions. They trump comics and music and writing and fic and everything...I'd say movie but they sort of are movies...and I'd say Angelina Jolie but she's always there. ANYWAY...

So every year I throw an Oscar party. I can't remember the first one I threw. It was when I was young. Point is now I'm in charge. We have the same crowd every year: My younger cousin Danica, her mom Carolyn, my dad's cousin Brenda, my mom's best friend Sheryl, my sisters friend Kelly, my sister, my mom, me, and Beth. Beth is ditching us this year in favour of being on the other side of the country.

We gather in my basement, which I tend to decorate...my fave year was still when we dressed Buzz Lightyear in drag...ANYWAYS...we gather in the basement with food and ballots and sit and watch the whole thing.

I am aware that I'm the only one who takes it seriously. Most everyone else is more interested in what everyone is wearing than in who wins...and more importantly who deserves to win because they rarely coincide...the Lord of the Rings fiasco comes to mind.

The person who gets the most predictions right, also known as me, gets a prize and bragging rights for the whole year.

This year? Themed pizzas. That's right I have a pizza for Slumdog Millionaire, Frost/Nixon, the Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Milk, The Reader, and Doubt ('cause its the Streep). Have I gone overboard? yes, absolutely. But delicious pizzas are the result. Two sweet pizzas (dessert pizzas) and four savoury pizzas. I'm stoked. Everything is chopped and prepped and awesome.

As for my picks...this year I'm keeping them quiet. I've topped off at 42 out of the 50 movies nominated, two in foreign languages without subtitles...but I couldn't get a hold of the shorts. Still, it's four more than last year.

I'm stoked. I dunno if you can tell.

And it breaks my heart

I'm not a political person. But to quote Keith Olbermann, "this isn't about yelling and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart."


"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

So when I created this blog I promised that I would never resort to angsty poetry or rants about my millions of crushes...I am only half-breaking the promise. No rants about crushes...and only one poem...and I wouldn't consider it angsty.
I hate posting my poetry. I don't write a lot and the stuff that I do write I'm never happy with. BUT, that being said, I was cruising my blog list when I read this, and it made me smile. And then my ego interrupted and reminded me that once, a long time ago, I wrote a poem that I'm quite proud of in the same vein and I thought that maybe someone might read it and smile. So...here:

A Nightmare kid I always was
screaming once the lights were off
the monsters 'neath my bed were real
on my toes their breath I'd feel
dark would seem extremely long
even though my nightlight shone
Monsters hid behind closed doors
Watching, drooling on the floor
Creaks of beasts kept me awake
Under the covers I would quake
Surely beasts would come and pounce
They'd gobble me up, ounce by ounce
Couldn't scream, not make a sound
Or from the shadows they would bound
Visions of terror danced in my head
Forever scared of waking up dead