The 85th Annual Academy Awards

 

I heard that the Oscar committee, or whoever is in charge of these kinds of things (probably some PR guru or something), decided to no longer call the Academy Awards the Academy Awards. And, God forbid, they mention how long the awards have been in existence. Instead, the powers that be decided to call them simply, The Oscars. I understand its because all the youngfolk think that if you mention 85 and use any kind of traditional name for anything, it must not be cool enough.

Now, I am a child of the 80s… or maybe 90s… (I’ve never quite been sure what to call myself, since I was born in the 80s, but spent most of my childhood in the 90s. Who knows? It’s not that important.) and I grew up every year watching the Academy Awards. I never particularly cared about them, and I rarely had even watched but one or two of the movies, but I always watched them. I’m not sure I’ve missed a year yet. That, my friends, is 28 years of watching this stodgy, old award show. Nearly 1/3 of the years it has graced this great earth.

Also, I don’t feel particularly old, but… but I suppose I’m not in the hip age group anymore. Still… I grew up with these awards. I don’t particularly think the change from The Academy Awards to The Oscars is exactly going to make anyone else watch or even care about the awards. In fact, I would almost go so far as to say that this illustrious name change makes the awards less prestigious. Almost.

That said, I took it upon myself this year, for the first time ever, to watch every, single movie up for the Best Picture award. It is a good crop of movies. I never realized exactly the quality of movies that vie for this award. After having watched them all, I can honestly say I have no idea which movie will take home the golden statue. No idea. How do people even choose? Do the judges just put all the movies in a hat and pick blindly. Or maybe they put all the names on the wall and play a game similar to Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

It doesn’t matter which movie wins in the end, I do believe that it is an honor just to be nominated. I always thought that was a cop-out, but it turns out that it is especially true.

If I were giving out the awards, I would have a hard time choosing between Argo and Silver Linings Playbook for the win. I believe the former is the better movie, but the latter… well, it features crazy people and Jennifer Lawrence. ‘Nuff said.

Until I can write a proper blog...

An Open Letter to Vermin…

Dear Mouse,

I don’t know why you decided to take up residence in my bedroom. There isn’t anything worth eating in here, and above all else, I have a cat. I thought mice were afraid of cats. That is, until I saw you fall onto his head and he did nothing. I, like my cat, did nothing. I assumed that just because he didn’t take care of the problem then, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t take care of the problem later (and by take care of the problem, I mean, eat you). I should never assume. Everyone in the world knows what assuming does.

Now my friend, dear Mouse, I didn’t have any problems sharing my space with you. You and I could have been great friends. Unfortunately, your actions have changed that. I found your droppings in my bed today. YOU CRAPPED IN MY BED. What the hell were you thinking? No one wants a roommate who uses their bed for a toilet. You could have done the toilet under my bed, or under the shelves or I don’t know… ANY WHERE BUT IN MY BED… and I would have been fine with that.

I am giving you fair warning, dearest little Mouse, tomorrow there will be traps. Tomorrow, I am declaring war. Tomorrow, may be your last day. You survived my cat, but you won’t survive me. I apologize, but you shouldn’t have crossed me. I only have one question for you. Which do you prefer: peanut butter or cheese?

Your sincerest roommate,

Kate

Floors tend to be slippery when wet.

It turns out if you run full speed across a freshly mopped floor, it is entirely likely that you will go careening into the wall. I thought I had broken my leg it hurt so bad, but then I realized that I was standing on it. I'm not sure how well the photos portray the huge swollen knot just below my knee-cap. It is at least the size of a softball, and I'm sure it's going to soon display an alarming resemblance to a rainbow.

Photographic evidence:

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Dead Birds Fly

I have been photographing the decomposition of a dead bird over the last couple of months. Today, the bird is gone. I imagine it must have flown away.

The Day Isaac Came to Missouri

As I type this, it has been raining for nearly 16 hours. The rain fell and fell and fell and, with any luck, it will continue well into tomorrow. It has rained so much I need to vacuum the water that is pooling up outside my bedroom. 

I haven't heard one complaint. 

I can't remember a time that everyone has been so incredibly ecstatic for water to be falling from the sky. Maybe... Just maybe... The grass will rise from the grave. Maybe the trees will come back from the brink of death. Maybe our well will fill up, and I'll be able to take a shower with actual water pressure instead of the trickle I've been using for the last month.

My fingers are crossed. Rain is amazing. It just goes to show that one man's life-threatening event can be another's savior.

Thanks, Isaac.