By now, we all know that I go through phases. I am passionate by nature; I obsess easily. I really wanted a dog this fall, for example. I googled all sorts of dog information, took quizzes to find out which kind of dog was best suited for my personality, looked at dog paraphernalia in the store, cuddled with pillows and simply pretended it was a dog [....what?], made lists of dog names that I loved...you get the picture. The strangest thing happened, though. After about a week or two, I woke up one morning as if nothing had ever happened. I simply stopped thinking about it. My friends would mention something about a dog and something would glimmer in the periphery of my brain, a mere shadow of a memory...then promptly disappear.
This happens a lot. I go through phases -- it's a motto, of sorts. I wanted to name my future daughter Wednesday for a while. It was a phase. I spent hours every day playing Mah Jongg or on Pioneer Woman for a while. It was a phase [and I'm happy to say that I'm down to less than an hour every day. *tear* Prasise Him]. I wanted to be a massage therapist for a while, I wanted to live in a business casual wardrobe for a while, I wanted to learn Russian, how to sew, ride a horse, shop in thrift stores, unearth the Underground Railroad stop that I was convinced was on our property, become a yoga instructor...all phases and trust me, the list goes on an on.
Despite the fact that I am mildly obsessive, all or nothing, compulsive to the point of recklessness at times, one thing has never changed for me: the Academy Awards.
I remember the first time the Academy Awards made an impression on me. I was going through a phase where I decided to learn to identify different actresses and actors and therefore bought every magazine I could get my hands on [...not much has changed in this aspect...] I remember the Oscar special of People magazine. I poured over that thing, scoured it until it fell apart, memorizing names and faces and designers and winners...it was magical. It was 2002, the year of A Beautiful Mind, the year of the nude-colored, wispy dress that Jennifer Conelly wore, the year of Halle Berry's historic win and incredible gown. I was completely hooked. Not that it takes that much to get me addicted to something, but whatever.
You guys, I'm not kidding -- Oscar night is my Superbowl Sunday. I got all stressed out last night, and started pacing around my apartment at seven. I jumped and skipped and ran around in a general frenzy as Jessie watched, uncertain what to do with me. I was on the phone with the only people who understand me in this context [Taylor and Eric and, shockingly enough, Drue], yelled at Barbra Walters and Mickey Rourke during their interview, and inhaled popcorn. When the Awards actually started, I collapsed into a nervous tizzy on the couch, my leg shaking with excess energy, and snapped at whoever tried to talk to me during acceptance speeches. Because of my copius amounts of research and movie watching, I successfully picked the winners in each of the big five categories [Actor/Actress in a leading role, Actor/Actress in a supporting role, Picture], and was generally impressed despite the fact that the nominees that I WANTED to win did not [God bless Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman and that horrible knit cap of his. Amen].
So, while my obsession with movies may not be a phase, I hope that this level of committment is, for my own sake. I found a new website yesterday that I am mildly in love with...shocking, right? Not really. Anyway, I first found it in the context of it geography games [which will be very useful for my NY resolution to learn the names and locations of African countries], but quickly found my way to the movie section. That's when I found this. Dear Lord, please save my soul. I can now list the Best Picture winners from the past thirty-nine years...in order...in under two minutes.
I see your judging eyes. Stop that.
Anyway, I'm secretly sort of proud of my new accomplishment. And even though I have laid aside my dreams of being an actress [yet another phase], Tina Fey and Steve Martin inspired me with their presentation of the writing awards...just wait. I'll win an Oscar yet.
And I'll thank the Academy and my family and my English teacher from Gull Lake, Mrs. Jones, and the fabulous designer that I'm wearing and James Franco, my devoted boyfriend, and my dog Walter, and Pioneer Woman, and, of course, my beautiful readers for their unwavering support of my fanatic obsessions from the start. Oh geez, I'm going to faint!! *tear/sob/wail/faint in giddy delight*