In my home of Los Angeles, Oscar mania has been raging for over a week. It’s been practically raining stars! But literally raining rain, for several days. Both phenomenons were making driving more difficult in Hollywood, and it all led up to last night’s broadcast of the 86th Academy Awards! Who would win? Who would go home without a trophy? What would they wear? The show started at 7pm EST, and here’s a recap of the night’s highlights.
4pm PST—I went to Vons to pick up some supplies for dinner. I bought chicken, and parmesan cheese but only because it was on sale. When I was backing out to leave, an old man in a Grand Marquis abruptly backed out of his space and lingered for a while in front of my car, as though he had forgotten what he was doing. I became agitated, and said “Move it, you fucking corpse!” I said this only to myself, and not out the window or anything. I felt no guilt. WINNER for most clever attack on a possible WWII veteran: Me
5pm PST—I did some writing, but felt unsatisfied. I began to suspect I might technically qualify as a non-genius. I tabled the issue, and ran the dishwasher.
6pm PST—I realized the garbage gets picked up tomorrow, so I dragged the barrel out of the garage and into the alley. Then I remembered that there was a disgusting rubbermaid container on the patio full of tree waste that has been filling with rain for several days, and now emitted what I would call a “swamp smell.” After a half-hearted attempt to drain it, I dropped the entire container into the trash barrel, and hoped that the city would be willing to take it away in this form.
7pm PST—I decided I should like to eat Frozen Yogurt after dinner, so I made a trip down to Yogurtland. There was an unruly man with several children ahead of me, and they sure moved slowly. He kept scolding his kids for various reasons, but he didn’t really raise his voice, proving he had more restraint than the men of my family. He seemed perpetually out of breath. I chose to mix Peanut Butter and Cookies ‘n Cream, and got cookie dough bites as a topping.
8pm PST—Realizing the Oscars were going on, I checked the updated winners list online. Jared Leto had won for his performance in “Dallas Buyers Club.” I hadn’t really enjoyed that movie, though it was okay. I decided to concern myself with something more engaging, so I started boiling water to cook rice.
830 PST—I ate Spanish rice, into which I mixed some spinach, and two chicken breasts. I felt full, and couldn’t finish all of the rice on my plate. I felt the anticipation building for the big moment that would come later in the night, and hoped my body would sufficiently digest my dinner to such an extent that I would be hungry for froyo.
9pm PST—I looked at Amazon Prime movies, and they were mostly bad. I settled for “Hannibal”, a film that went completely overlooked by the Academy in 2001. Quickly it became apparent that the film was much more enjoyable when I saw it as an 18 year old. I pondered whether Ridley Scott had an earnest belief that awful post-production slow motion is good technique, or if it was simply more acceptable to employ this device in 2001.
10pm PST—I felt hungry enough to eat the frozen yogurt, so I did. But first I let it thaw for a few minutes. Hannibal Lecter fed Ray Liotta some of his own brain, but my appetite had no reaction. I thought about how if someone asked me outright, I might think to lie and say I was grossed out by it, disgusted even, while I was trying to enjoy eating something. But no, not so. I like eating under almost any circumstances. I was a little put off when, in a subsequent scene, Lecter took out a tupperware container on an airplane, revealing some of Liotta’s brain inside—but only because leftover, cold meat is always on some level a disappointment.
11pm PST—I read the Oscar results online, and had no reaction. I didn’t care who won and who didn’t, but I didn’t want to risk being out of the loop in subsequent days. Several sites offered a write-up recapping the performance of host Ellen DeGeneres, the comedy bits, the musical numbers, etc—but I read none of these.
1115 PST—I thought this might be a good idea for a blog post, so I started writing it.
1130 PST—Reaching the end of this entry, I was unhappy with the result and didn’t really see it as having any value.
1131 PST—I began to reconsider the direction my life is taking.