I skipped blogging this weekend. I was accompanying my husband to get rat traps on Saturday (such are our weekend outings these days), and Sunday was, of course, devoted to the Oscars and the Oscar food. Our daughter and her boyfriend came over to watch, and we munched on peanuts, corn puffs and olives, with pizza delivered. It was like the Platonic ideal of the couch potato. I could feel my muscles atrophying minute by minute. We were all pretty satisfied. We like it when Pixar wins (the local guys) and a woman actually won for director. The geezer factor was high, which was satisfying to us old folks. There were Mirren and Streep, looking pretty amazing and representing the highest level of acting, and Bridges is no spring chicken, and hey, there was Streisand, a director herself, who took a lot of flack and in the end, got to hand the Oscar to a woman. Martin and Baldwin, no callow youths themselves, did pretty well, and all and all, the oldies held up well next to the Twilight teens.
Of course, my pick of the nominees, A Serious Man, had no chance. But that was okay, because I wanted Paris to win, and it's a French movie, so it could only have been nominated in the Foreign film category. I adore Michael Hanake, Code Unknown is one of my favorite films of all time, and I adore Cache as well, so I wished The White Ribbon would win, but I haven't even seen the other nominees, so what do I know? At my age, it's amazing what I manage to see, and that I can SEE it.
What I want to know is where do Streep and Mirren find these dresses with sleeves? In the real world, there are no dresses with sleeves, and at my age, the arms are not to be revealed, unless in a horror film. I have to buy these sleeveless dresses, and then find a jacket or sweater that must never, ever, ever be removed. This causes me to sweat a lot. At both of the older kids' weddings, I sweltered in jackets that made me feel like I'd been locked in a closet with a psycho outside the door.
And Mirren and Streep are so radiant! Is it makeup artistry, or surgery or both? Why can't I look like that? At least one night a year. At least under soft lighting. And now that my husband has new glasses, he can probably see me again. This is not good. Maybe I need to have bangs again, and long hair hanging forward over my cheeks (all four of them), and wear turtleneck pjs with a scarf. It's going to be warm, very warm, if I have to sleep with all that hair and clothing. Who am I kidding? He knows what I look like, during flu, after birthing, with a rash, and with a mini me inside my skin. I'll just have to be more sparkly. And maybe get rid of a few light bulbs and lamps.
If you're lookin' for sparkly, I recommend the makeup counter at Nordstroms. Even better, Ben Stiller's makeup artist. I think a blue foundation may go nicely with my varicosities.
ReplyDelete