165: superbad

pithy notes on this year’s Oscar telecast:

1. Halle looked great.

2. Gwyneth did not (though you must give props to someone who’ll bust out Alexander McQueen).

3. Did anyone see Ian McKellen’s hottie date? Meow

4. Jennifer Connelly’s dress looked like a bandage.

5. Why were Donald Sutherland and Glenn Close made to narrate? Isn’t that Peter Coyote’s job?

6. I didn’t care very much about the “Best Song” category, until I saw that Enya was nominated and all I wanted in the world was for her /not/ to win. Go Randy!

So I saw “E.T.” again, and it looked a lot better the second time around. The only other time I saw it, I was seven and we had the movie on Betamax. I had to wach it on my grandparents’ miniscule television in the Philippines. So I didn’t know that E.T.’s head was quite so big until now.

I thought the movie would be sold out, but Maria and Jolanta found perfect seats in the theater. We were surrounded by small children who chattered throughout. A little girl sitting in front of us would “shush” Maria whenever we laughed. This was soon taken care of when Maria dumped an order of nachos on the kid’s head.

Okay, that was a lie. But it would have been so cool if she had done so. After the movie, we had dinner at the posh-ish Cafe Luciano. I had the veal parmigiana. It was delicious. There were some waitresses who wore tight black skirts instead of the standard white shirt/black pants outfit. I figured that they were cocktail waitresses, though they didn’t wear little maid outfits like the waitresses at The Regal Beagle on “Three’s Company”.

So where was I? It’s now Sunday afternoon, and Jacinda and I took the dog to Doggie Beach. Well, we tried, anyway — we could see from her “product” (my preferred term — Jacinda calls it “poop”) that Bella was having issues. Jacinda called Joe, and we all drove over to the emergency vet on Clybourn. Bella rather liked being in the car, looking out the window focusing on the wheels of the other cars.

We did some waiting in the doctor’s office — the lab didn’t find any viruses or bacteria in Bella’s stool, so she was x-rayed and given fluids. While Bella was being x-rayed, I read “Rosie” magazine and looked for a water fountain. Bella came out fine, with a huge lump on her back. It seemed that when they said “adminiister fluids”, the clinic meant they load up a huge hypodermic needle and inject it straight under her skin. So it’s like Bella had a goiter, or her breast implant slipped out of place.

Bella napped while I watched the Oscars and smoked. I was glad to see Sidney Poitier get an award, but I couldn’t help but notice that his later roles had him turning into a “positive” stereotype — the noble, intelligent Black man who teaches White folks about how bad predjudice is. Maybe I’m too bitter, but some of his clips blurred together began to resemble a very special episode of any given television drama. Though I will say I loved him in “To Sir, with Love”. If only because his character was refined and gritty, and I loved the title song. Final thought: was it just me, or did the camera keep cutting back to Will and Jada every time one of Whoopi’s jokes bombed?

Skylar is almost five months old, and she’s huge. I saw her last night when I visited Bruce and Joan. She was pretty laidback, bouncing around and not really crying unless she needed a bottle. Gracie talked my ear off the entire night, pausing only to show me her collection of road maps or help me blow out the candles on my big birthday brownie. B & J got me a *gorgeous* chef’s knife for my birthday — I caressed it briefly, lest I got carried away and started chopping any produce that might have rolled into view, before putting it back in its box.

I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately, so my apologies for the somewhat lackluster flip fronts. Hopefully Friday’s will be a bit more vigorous.

I called my grandmother last night to wish her a happy birthday (78), and she sounded so shocked to hear from me. And the fact that I called her from a cell phone just about did her in. Apparently, she was so impressed or whatever that she told my aunt, who told my dad, who told me this when I called him today to wish him a happy birthday (54).

Given that my grandmother was 24 when she had my dad, and my dad was 28 when my mom had me, a little kid would say that I’m going to have my first child at 32. But that would also dictate that my great-great-grandmother would have had my great-grandmother at 16. Which is entirely possible, but I don’t really think so. My sister sent me a cute card, in which she revealed that my father wasn’t even present when I was born. Apparently, he was doing a tour on the USS Enterprise. Dad guessed that the ship had stopped in Kenya, so he was probably checking out Mombasa when I was born. And it’s not like I could do anything about that now, but I still find this all somewhat depressing.

Smooches,

Jasmine

*playlist*

The Flashing Lights – Day Like That; James Brown – Stoned To The Bone, Pt. 1; Pharcyde – Ya Mama

*blog*

http://www.lasvegasweekly.com/2002/03_21/news_coverstory_1.html

http://www.fametracker.com/galaxy_of_fame/2002_03_25.shtml

http://www.austin360.com/statesman/editions/tuesday/metro_state_5.html

Advertisements

~ by Jasmine on March 26, 2002.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: