The Oscars were the biggest yawn-fest in my viewing history, which began in 1995 when I wanted Babe to win Best Picture over Braveheart. I was six. Oscar nights make me nostalgic for when I used to dress my Barbies up for the red carpet. Bad or good, the Oscars are my thing.
Highlights of the evening included:
Yeah, it was a boring show, but triple foxy redheadedness, the first female director to win!, a tribute to John Hughes that made me cry, and some divine company (with the elusive Sofia Coppola sparkling wine) the night was certainly uber-bingo.
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