As some of you may recall, the Oscars are rather a big deal among my circle of friends and each year me, Jo-Ann, Trevor, and his Mum Barb (my awards season Dr. Claw – she is my unseen nemesis) pore over our ballots for hours on end trying to divine the winners based on speculation, rumour, and happenstance. Each year it is a closely contested battle to the finish with the victor gaining bragging rights for the rest of the year. Last year it was Trevor who took top billing but this year my sixteen reigned supreme!
It was a pretty good Oscars but did seem to drag quite a lot, with the smaller categories having intros that seemed really long beyond all sense of necessity. I suppose that’s life. I watched the show at my friend Layne’s and had a wonderful evening full of nibbles, drinks and new friends including Carrie, Emanuel‘s lady twin(!). We later moved the party to a bar where an incident occurred that left me feeling a little old, a little wise and a little alcoholic.
One of Layne’s friends was rather intoxicated and decided to go outside to make a phone call. Being as he was four sheets to the wind I noted at the time that this was probably not for the best and no sooner had those words left my mouth than the waitress came over to let us know that said young man would not be allowed re-entry into the bar (he’d had his in and out privileges revoked, but more on that in an upcoming Olympics post. Speaking of which, they will return ASAP). I hope that I’ve learned more in life than how make the most of a situation when wasted, but if nothing else I’m an expert at throwing a few back.