logging about the Academy Awards is a sad, pathetic exercise in navel-gazing for people who could really use more hobbies. So I say, “Sign me up!” There was a time when Hollywood’s biggest night meant casual get-togethers, fancy parties, and time spent with friends. Unfortunately for me, the L train shut down this weekend, so I took the opportunity to cozy up with my laptop and order a crumload of sushi. Tonight, the Oscars had winners, and losers. As usual, I felt like a little of both.

Oscar Countdown
-So lemme get this straight: Over on E!, Ryan Seacrest and Isaac Mizrahi are cutting up on the red carpet, and yet the network actually airing the ceremony has hired two women I’ve never seen before and the MTV news guy?
-If Crash “really made you think,” you are apparently not alone.
-When I visited LA a few years ago, I went to the place where they hold the Oscars. And you know what? It looked much shorter in person.

Awards
-I want to say, before anything happens, that I love Jon Stewart, that I loved him before the rest of you, and that I will love him no matter what happens tonight.
-It’s 8:06pm, and already Jon Stewart is bombing.
-No one who wears sweatpants as often as I do can really claim much fashion sense. But if I were giving out awards for best dress, I would nominate Michelle Williams for pulling off a stunning goldenrod, Salma Hayek for having a bangin’ body, and Sandra Bullock for wearing a dress with pockets. But I would give the Oscar to Felicity Huffman, because in that sexy dress, I totally forgot she was a transsexual!
-8:42pm: Scientology joke=Stewart on rebound.
-Umm, Tab Energy drink. How does everyone feel about this?
-In college, we added another category to your typical Oscar pool: Each person made a pick for which celebrity would be featured most in the cut-away shots. One year, it was Robert Benigni. Another, Tom Hanks. (Other optional add-on categories: Who would be featured last in the montage of late celebrities? Was Mickey Rooney still alive?) All I’m saying is, if I had chosen George Clooney this year, I’d be gold.
-9:22pm: Charlize Theron pronounces the word memoir as “mem-wah.” Now I really want her to lose.
-“Crash” theme song takes movie title as imperative: A woman is onstage singing a song, and there is a car on fire, and there is a great deal of smoke, and actors are moving in slow-motion, and if they’re smart, they are desperately trying to escape this sequence.
-I wasn’t the biggest fan of the nominated films this year, but I did enjoy March of the Penguins. It was fascinating, and romantic, and thrilling, and how friggin’ cute were those penguins? Anyway, when the movie wins Best Documentary, and the French producers start waving around stuffed penguins onstage, I do not respond with my generation’s typical sneering sarcasm. Instead, I tear up. I have officially eaten too much sushi.
-9:52: Mickey Rooney lives!
-Best Oscar moment/Best “What the Hell Is Happening?” Moment: “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” by 36 Mafia actually wins Best Song. Stewart’s joke #1: “You know what? I think it just got a little bit easier out there for a pimp.” Stewart’s joke #2: “For those of you at home keeping score--Martin Scorsese, no Oscars. 36 Mafia? Oscar.”
-According to Diana Osana, Oscar-winning scriptwriter for adapting Brokeback Mountain, art is a lamp that shines light into the darkness of men’s souls. According to Paul Haggis, Oscar-winning scriptwriter for Crash, art is not a mirror held up to society but a hammer to crash that mirror. All right, kids, now which is it?
-I was working at the Austin Chronicle when I interviewed Ang Lee. He was on a massive media blitz for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” and he must have been exhausted by 30-minute phoners in a second language. His English wasn’t that good, and I had to strain to understand him at times, but I remember thinking how nice he was, how patient he was with my fumbling questions, how genuine he seemed when I told him what a dazzling, original film CTHD was. I also got the absolute coolest intercom buzz ever: “Sarah Hepola, Ang Lee holding on line 1.”
-Crash wins Best Picture. That’s how this show should end: On a complete surprise.
-When I was a kid, I would go to bed after the Oscars with the whole thing buzzing in my ears. I would fall asleep thinking about what my fancy dress would look like, and who my famous date would be, and who I’d thank in my brilliant acceptance speech, and I was so intoxicated by the show that it felt almost intended for me. It seemed inconceivable that I wouldn’t grow up to be gorgeous, thin, and successful enough to win Oscars and date movie stars. That’s the kind of magical hold the show had over me. It’s also the kind of idiot delusions I suffered at 8 years old. Well, I never did grow up to be a famous actress and win Oscars, but blogging about it is the next best thing! And before I go, I’d like to thank my parents for believing in me, my best friends and lawyers, and my husband Jon Stewart, who did a great job hosting the show tonight, no matter what the stupid bloggers say.