Oscar Watching

Who should win the Oscar:

Best Picture:  LIFE OF PI
Best Director:  ANG LEE
Best Actor:  DANIEL DAY LEWIS
Best Actress:  EMMANUELLE RIVA

I don't really care about the rest, except that LIFE OF PI should win as many Oscars as possible!  (Eventually, LIFE OF PI would win 4 Oscars:  Best Director, Best Original Score, Best Cinematography and Best Visual Effects.)

PS. I just found out about what is in the Oscar Goodie Bag this year.  I believe all nominees receive these lavish treasure chests of stuff worth approximately $45,000!  Cannot be re-gifted to the 99%.  Gifts include:

A $795 water filtration system
A $200 custom set of candles
A $12,000 trip to Australia
A $5000 facelift procedure
An $1800 one year membership to Heathrow's private VIP service
A $3000 holiday at the St Regis Punta Mita Resort in Mexico
A $600 course of acupuncture treatments
Circus lessons for the nominee's children worth $400
$850 worth of personal trainer sessions

Hurmmm ... I guess they couldn't squeeze in the Porsche this year.

"I could eat you up."

 

 

                                         

Sunday Routine

8AM.  The day starts with me in bed and the dog shrieking in my ear. "I WANT TO GO OUT!  MY BLADDER IS ABOUT TO MESS UP YOUR FINE WOODEN FLOORS!"  So out he goes.  He also gets a breakfast of 3 or 4 snausages and a tiny sprinkle of the kibble with which I feed a friendly three legged feral cat.  After the dog finishes killing the grass, I go back in the house and eat my brekkie which is always 2 hard-boiled eggs on Sunday, whites discarded.  Meanwhile, my 86 year old dad has already finished his meal of whole grain bread slathered with peanut butter, leftover turkey or chicken or pork, tiny dried Philippine fish called dilis (Teriyaki flavour), an apple, 6 strawberries (microwaved because of those pesky strawberry germs) and 5 or 6 nuggets of See's chocolate Bridge Mix.  He eats a variation of this meal everyday, 3 times a day, and weighs only 130 pounds. He makes me sick, LOL.

9AM.  I don't know why I watch all these stupid political pundit shows on Sunday. I only truly respect Bob Schieffer of FACE THE NATION but he interviews too many publicity-seeking politicians.  And of all the loudmouth panelists (I'm looking at you, George Will, with your snotty Pelopponesian War metaphors), I only like the economist Paul Krugman.  Perhaps I'm hoping to learn something new, but really, none of these overpaid dweebs have changed in 15 years.

10-12PM.  If I didn't have my 2 boiled eggs, that means brunch with a friend at Canele, a very popular Atwater bistro. Afterwards, we might swing by the Atwater Farmers Market for some flowers, or go to Starbucks for a caramel frappucino.

1PM -5PM.  I don't do much on Sunday afternoons.   Yeah, yeah, I know I'm retired, and everyday is a lazy Sunday afternoon. But I.REALLY.DON'T.DO.ANYTHING.  I don't garden; I barely take a stab at the dirty dishes; I sneer at dust bunnies. If I'm feeling a little hyper, I might open a bag of pork rinds and chew my way through it for 4 hours.  Or I might read something.  Right now, it's ASSASSIN'S CODE by Jonathan Maberry, and MAXED OUT: HARD TIMES IN THE AGE OF EASY CREDIT by James Scurlock, because I just love fuming about debt.

6PM - 1AM.  Dinner is usually something deliciously frozen like fish sticks. Heh. Or I might order pizza from KRISPY KRUST. Or I might fry this special vinegary marinated fish my dad gets from Philippine groceries.  TV is AMAZING RACE (new season this weekend, huzzah!) and the conclusion of DOWNTON ABBEY.  Sniffles. (I already checked YouTube for spoilers.)  And bed is usually between 1 and 2AM because I'm a news junkie and I can't help checking out the web for news of a giant sunspot which will destroy us all by lunch tomorrow.

                                                  The *Fascinating* Bedside Table

The Next Five Years

 Okay, I’m retired. No more whining about boredom, the Wickedness of my Ex-Director, the overpaid good-for-nothing library management, the eye-rolling tedium of staff meetings, and the sad lack of cheez doodles in the vending machine.  So I’ve finally decided to make a list of things I want to complete within the next five years.  Hopefully, these goals will give my retirement some substance, some sense of meaning.  (Hurmm, I wonder what it means to watch 120 episodes of FRASIER in 2 months. Eck.)

1.     My most important goal is to pay down my credit card debt.  Last year, Feb. 2012, my debt was around $65,000.  Yes, folks, $65,679, to be exact. This is what happens when you have 8 credit cards and a taste for antique Spanish Colonial sculpture, high-end fabrics, expensive decorating books, and a PRIME account with AMAZON.  So what if I look like a Beyonce of Fleece – I had an 18^th century Portugese Madonna!  Eventually, I decided this was unsustainable, and as of today, Feb. 7, 2013, my debt has been reduced to $53,000.  Hopefully, within four years, my credit card debt will be wiped out to near-nothingness!

2.     Save $6000 for a month in London and $4000 for 2 weeks in Rome.  It would be so easy to just put this on my paid-up credit cards ($15,000 credit available!) but I’m not going to do that. I’m going to see if I can squeeze $50 a week into my Savings Bell Jar.  (It’s so nice to stare at a glass jar full of beautiful, slightly crumpled cash.)

3.     Start a little zine of my own.  I’ve always been fascinated by these eccentric little self-publications, so I’m going to see if I can make one too.

4.     Lose 30 pounds.   I’m on my way!  I’ve lost 6 pounds already since retirement, and I’m not even sure how it happened.  It was probably the weeding.

5.     Create a lovely cottage garden!   So far, my garden looks nothing like Hidcote or Barnsdale, or any of those hateful flowery things on YouTube, but I’ll be patient.

6.  Read 25 books every year.  I can probably do better than this, but not if I keep re-reading SHOGUN or my worn-out copy of THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF GHOST STORIES.

7.  Start a used bookstore/curio shop with my sister.  I don't know if this will ever happen, but I think it's a lovely dream.

                                    That Portugese Madonna