Hooray for Hollywood
It has been a beautiful day today, sunny and cool and perfect for hike in the mountains. Tonight are the Oscars, which Aaron will not allow to be watched in his presence. I’m into the Oscars this year, because I want almost everyone who is nominated to win. I want Phillip Seymour Hoffman to win because he’s such a great actor and is overweight and doesn’t seem to give a crap. I want Heath Ledger to win because, as I said to my sister once, “he’s the reason I get up most mornings.” I want George Clooney to win because he just seems like such a nice guy, almost sheepish, and I’ve been a fan of his since he was on ER. Aaron makes fun of his big hair days on Roseanne, but I don’t care. I want Reese Witherspoon to win because she’s so Girl Power. I want Felicity Huffman to win because she’s so down to earth. And I want Amy Adams to win because I’ve never seen someone able to pull off such a convincing southern accent who wasn’t from the South. Heck, I’ve seen southern actresses who couldn’t pull off convincing southern accents (think Julia Roberts in “Steel Magnolias”). All very vapid and flimsy reasons for people to win Oscars, but isn’t that what Hollywood’s all about?
But instead of watching the Oscars, we’ll be watching a Sherlock Holmes mystery on PBS. I’m into that, too. There’s nothing better than a good British mystery. The very accent just makes you feel smarter. I’ll probably fall asleep 30 minutes into it, though. I’m bad about that. Last night Aaron was watching what appeared to be a great movie on FMC. I missed the first 30 minutes of it because I felt I just had to get the laundry done. I finally sat down to watch it and was asleep by 9:00. I fell over into the corner of the couch sometime during my siesta so that my head was at an odd angle to the rest of my body. Aaron would poke me periodically and ask me why I didn’t go on to bed. He loves to torture me when I fall asleep on the couch. He waits until I hit a point where I’m so far gone I can’t possibly drag myself up and into bed. Then he will very, very lightly tickle me on the cheek or under my nose, causing me to wake with a start. It makes me really, really irritated. So angry that if I were more awake I’d pop him one across the jaw. But I am completely defenseless in my haze of sleep and can therefore only angrily mutter “SttoooooOOOOOpppppp!!”. This amuses him.
Cheerio, dahlings. And may the best Reese win.
But instead of watching the Oscars, we’ll be watching a Sherlock Holmes mystery on PBS. I’m into that, too. There’s nothing better than a good British mystery. The very accent just makes you feel smarter. I’ll probably fall asleep 30 minutes into it, though. I’m bad about that. Last night Aaron was watching what appeared to be a great movie on FMC. I missed the first 30 minutes of it because I felt I just had to get the laundry done. I finally sat down to watch it and was asleep by 9:00. I fell over into the corner of the couch sometime during my siesta so that my head was at an odd angle to the rest of my body. Aaron would poke me periodically and ask me why I didn’t go on to bed. He loves to torture me when I fall asleep on the couch. He waits until I hit a point where I’m so far gone I can’t possibly drag myself up and into bed. Then he will very, very lightly tickle me on the cheek or under my nose, causing me to wake with a start. It makes me really, really irritated. So angry that if I were more awake I’d pop him one across the jaw. But I am completely defenseless in my haze of sleep and can therefore only angrily mutter “SttoooooOOOOOpppppp!!”. This amuses him.
Cheerio, dahlings. And may the best Reese win.
posted by SHANNON & AARON TUCKER at 12:12 PM
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