The Oscars 2013: Rug Rats and Royalty

The night of the Oscars I wasn't really feeling it. The day had been strange and I found myself thinking back to how exciting that show used to be. All the suspense, the glamor, the party we had for a gang of friends, all of that and more. I remember dressing nominees and presenters and the thrill of waiting to see them on the red carpet and then on stage. Even better was all the press that came from it. It seemed every magazine for days in the hands of women on the subway were turned to the pages of my stars, my triumphs. 

Well, that was then and this is now. Joan Rivers almost seems quaint when you consider the numb skulls that do all the talking now: Kelly Osbourne, Julia Rancid, the guy that sounds like a girl, Kimora Lee Simmons, I can't go on. Bad, dumb, and uninformed sums up the quality of commentary. The actresses didn't look much better. Trains, too much beading, too much gratuitous breast, butt and legs showing. Tacky jewels, unattractive hair and in the case of Kristen Stewart, way too heavy on the drugs. 

So the carpet was a downer, that is until the sea of sludge parted and up, up, up came Charlize Theron as if walking on water. I sat down at that point (enough going back in forth to the kitchen and bathroom to kill time) and stared transfixed. Whether it was the dress (Dior) or the fact that everyone else looked like Cinderella's ugly step sisters, Charlize took over. The show was fun with some unexpected highs and lows, but in all it was really fun. So for those of you who may have wondered who that night lit my wick, it was Charlize all the way, baby. I'm just saying...