Jared Leto so very deservedly won best supporting actor and his speech was great and I loved it.
I should have then gone to bed.
Well, I would have missed Lupita Nyong'o and she was amazing.
I also would have missed Bette Midler singing "Wind Beneath My Wings."
Are you kidding me? And I am Bette's biggest fan and have been since 1973 but still...
Here's what Billy and I were saying to each other about it all during the last half hour (or last eighteen hours, it was hard to tell).
Sorry for all the overlaps. I am still waking up. I am in blue, Billy isn't.
I was glad to see McConaughey win. Did I spell that right? Anyway, I thought his speech was sort of weird. He talked about his god a lot. He did not once mention Ron Woodroof, the guy Dallas Buyer's Club was all about. Unless I missed that part. But I suppose the important thing is that he got that movie made against all odds for a pitiful amount of money and I believe they shot it in 29 days and that's amazing. Also, he brought his mother along with his incredibly beautiful wife. Extra point for the mama-bringing.
I did not see any boobs that made me very happy.
I fell in love with Bill Murray harder than ever before.
U2? Bite me. I heard that on at least one tour, Bono wanted to sleep in his own bed every night and therefore, someone drove his damn bed from city to city in a Ryder truck. Sorry. I have never understood the appeal of U2. Don't even tell me about all the good works Bono has done. It's Monday morning, I didn't get enough sleep and I don't care.
I will not, out of kindness, mention Goldie Hawn's face.
All right. That's about all I have to say about the Academy Awards Ceremony.
It is Monday. It is sort of raining. I am going to Target today to buy my husband new underwear. That is my entire goal for the day. I think I may also be going with Lily to the pediatrician's office for Owen to get a shot. She sent me a video last night of Owen in the bath that is the funniest thing ever but I cannot share it here because if I do, he will hate me when he is twelve.
Butt-slapping is involved.
The baby chicks are alive and well. Here's what they look like this morning.
Love...Your Intrepid Reporter, Ms. Moon