i'll admit it, i've been looking forward to the oscars for weeks.

Last year I went to an Oscar party hosted by a grad student and her spouse. When guests walked in to the party, a sticker bearing the name of a previous best actor or actress winner was stuck to their back where they couldn't see, and then everyone got to go around trying to figure out who they were by asking questions about themselves. I knew I was on to something when I asked if I played a serial killer and I got looks like I was getting warm.

But it wasn't until we were all settled in watching the ceremonies and I noticed a few people cast unconscious glances my way when the camera cruised by Philip Seymour Hoffman that I flashed on who I was and why I'd won: Capote! One of my colleagues was Jon Voight, and I was the only one besides the hosts who even knew how to answer the person's questions, and not even that well. Yep, it was a young crowd--so young that some didn't seem to even remember when Hilary Swank won for Boys Don't Cry, or maybe I gave some bad clues. A totally fun night. And tasty chili and cookies.

The hostess of that party has moved on to a new job (sighyay), and so tonight I will watch the Oscars while snuggling with a whippet, eating my own damn cookies, and maybe--if I'm lucky--chatting online with E.

Comments

[c...]

of course I, of all people at that party, shouldn't have taken so long to remember! ('twasn't age, in this case, just my absolute movie and celebrity idiocy...)

[planbreaker]

I have to say, I always felt a little guilty torturing people with that game.

[bonnie]

hey -- i made my guests play that game at a party i hosted a few years ago! it was pretty fun . . . and sort of horrifying at the same time (don't mind me; i've been chanelling Dame Judy Dench ever since watching -- finally -- _Notes on a Scandal_ last night).

and hey -- i met Philip Seymour Hoffman 3-4 years ago at the Sundance Filmmaker Labs. i nearly sh*t. he was very nice. i gushed about the scene where he fakes lighting Jason Robard's dying cancer victim's cigarette in _Magnolia_ (of the gesture: "we found it in rehearsal" . . . tra la la . . .). PSH took a picture w/ me (i carry it in my passport), his fatherly arm around my dumb fan's shoulder. that same year, i met Kyle McLachlan; it was awesome.

and hey -- The Diving Bell and the Butterfly was ROBBED, i say, ROBBED. that's all . . .