Oh, this year's Oscars were a thrill. Not only did Sean Penn get the Oscar for best actor, but they also got one for the original screenplay. I almost started to cry when I listened to their speeches. Dustin Lance Black is a talented young man who could stand up with an Oscar in his hands and talk of gay marriage in a US that voted for prop. 8 in the 21st century. That was just wonderful. My heart is melting. I feel happy about the other awards too. I think that it was written for Slumdog to make it to the Oscars as, given the general Western preference, it was quite unlikely two years ago. The East has broken the habit and even the best foreign film went to Asia, this time Japan, kicking some French ass big time.
Can you imagine it's been carnival weekend? And outside it's snowing like hell. I guess the dancing that's supposed to blow winter away doesn't help much this year. As much as I'm trying, I cannot get myself back to work. I read, yes. But the actual writing... oh, I only do it pressed by deadline. Well, there are three deadlines today, so at one point I'll just have to start. I wanna watch RocknRolla in bed. But I have to be a good representative today and attend meetings. I'm gonna get pissed. I'm gonna jump at someone's throat. Or I'll just think about something else. I'm not in the mood to lobby for anything. And I sure as hell don't wanna go out in that wet cold.