Just finished hosting a small Oscar party. Every year I watch the Oscars, and I always feel intensely jealous of everyone there. It's completely ludicrous, but I guess that's the magic of Hollywood and star power. I'd rather be like my roommate Rich, who could care less. He was more excited to have caught the Nascar race today.
It's that feeling of being an outsider to this party hosted by and for beautiful, glamorous people. Peeking in. The outsider. Being unpopular in high school. Watching all the pretty girls date dim-witted football players. Parking attendant at a black-tie ball.
Steve Martin was quite funny. He was a very solid choice as host. Though I'd still like to see Jim Carrey get a shot at it, but I don't think the Academy will every hand over their prized day to such a loose cannon.
I had a dream Friday night, more like a nightmare, that I was hosting a show, I think it was the Oscars, and I wasn't prepared at all. I had no idea who I was introducing, and I was on stage in front of thousands of spectators at this arena. I hate those dreams, those in which we are totally unprepared for the problem we are faced with. Workplace stresses and challenges are invading my life.
What does it mean when you have more conversations with someone in your dreams than you do in real life (excluding those people who have passed away)? No, no, not sexual fantasies you crass people...just normal conversations. Quite odd.
The human body is really sensitive. I find it amazing that a CD is so light, but yet I can always tell if a CD case is empty without opening it.