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SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAYYYYY!
Feb. 24th, 2008 12:13 pmHmm. Oscars in less than twelve hours. You know, it's weird--I'm trying to figure out how to phrase this exactly, but... it's kind of like I don't care all that much this year. I mean, I care. I'm looking forward to the show and the clothes and Jon Stewart. It's just that I honestly have very little idea--beyond the obvious categories--who's going to win anything, and moreover, I'm just not interested enough to read up and find out who the frontrunners in the minor categories are. I honestly feel pretty indifferent about the notion of any particular person winning. It's kind of relaxing, actually. Like I can just put on the formal pajamas and stock up on Mountain Dew and limber up my fingers and not worry about anything. Nothing's at stake for me, as a viewer, at all this year.
As such, this is the first year I have no predictions of any kind as to who will win anything. None. Last I heard, it was probably going to go to No Country for Old Men, but it might go to There Will Be Blood, or even Juno might sneak in if those two split the Serious Masterpiece vote. I'm to the point where's basically like, who's not going to win? I can tell you that. People not named Daniel Day-Lewis or Javier Bardem. Anyone involved in Juno except Diablo Cody. Please, God, please, not Norbit. Other than that, I either can't imagine or don't care (even the costume category is loaded with good choices), and, like I said, it's far more enjoyable than years I spent cursing out the TV at quarter till midnight. Hell, Michael Clayton could sweep and I'd be like, "Huh. Fancy that. Go Tilda." I mean, I'd be a bit nonplussed, but I could watch the fireworks online for a little while and then go sleep the sleep of the possibly-not-sleeping-at-all, depending on how much Mountain Dew I drank during the show. Mmm, Dew.
Anyway. We're having a belated birthday lunch for my mother and aunt today, and in addition to that, I've had connectivity problems for the last couple of days. I'd like to watch the red carpet this year--which I usually don't do--so that maybe I can go ahead and save myself some fashion-related flailing during the ceremony ("She's wearing a blue--green?--thing that--I don't know--I can't see!"), but you may not see me until the stroke of 7:30 pm CST. If I can't liveblog at all, for whatever odd reason, I'll post a recap tomorrow. And before you start fussing about that, I did it before and it turned out fine.
If you've never read one of my liveblogs before, here's last year's. I read over it last night, and it holds up pretty well a year later. Which is to say, my theory of liveblogging is that someone without a television should be able to follow what I'm saying. This is also why I'm so wrung out afterwards--a good bit of work goes into making the thing coherent. Please bear this in mind if you are a media corporation looking to hire someone for next year--will write for food; internet slang completely optional.
As such, this is the first year I have no predictions of any kind as to who will win anything. None. Last I heard, it was probably going to go to No Country for Old Men, but it might go to There Will Be Blood, or even Juno might sneak in if those two split the Serious Masterpiece vote. I'm to the point where's basically like, who's not going to win? I can tell you that. People not named Daniel Day-Lewis or Javier Bardem. Anyone involved in Juno except Diablo Cody. Please, God, please, not Norbit. Other than that, I either can't imagine or don't care (even the costume category is loaded with good choices), and, like I said, it's far more enjoyable than years I spent cursing out the TV at quarter till midnight. Hell, Michael Clayton could sweep and I'd be like, "Huh. Fancy that. Go Tilda." I mean, I'd be a bit nonplussed, but I could watch the fireworks online for a little while and then go sleep the sleep of the possibly-not-sleeping-at-all, depending on how much Mountain Dew I drank during the show. Mmm, Dew.
Anyway. We're having a belated birthday lunch for my mother and aunt today, and in addition to that, I've had connectivity problems for the last couple of days. I'd like to watch the red carpet this year--which I usually don't do--so that maybe I can go ahead and save myself some fashion-related flailing during the ceremony ("She's wearing a blue--green?--thing that--I don't know--I can't see!"), but you may not see me until the stroke of 7:30 pm CST. If I can't liveblog at all, for whatever odd reason, I'll post a recap tomorrow. And before you start fussing about that, I did it before and it turned out fine.
If you've never read one of my liveblogs before, here's last year's. I read over it last night, and it holds up pretty well a year later. Which is to say, my theory of liveblogging is that someone without a television should be able to follow what I'm saying. This is also why I'm so wrung out afterwards--a good bit of work goes into making the thing coherent. Please bear this in mind if you are a media corporation looking to hire someone for next year--will write for food; internet slang completely optional.
