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The Oscars

February 27, 2012

It’s that time of the year. Golden statues lined up faithfully waiting for their next owners, stars of amazingly-looking dressed in the most figure / skin tone / personality flattering dresses and tuxedos gracefully gliding through the red carpet while smiling and giving interviews in short and eloquent sentences. It is the time of the Oscars. The New Yorker has a cartoon cover page of the Oscar statues. It is written about in the talk of the town. It is a highly anticipated TV show, much to be gossiped in the fashion industry, second only to the latest dress Kate Middleton is wearing, and a center of debate and opinion exchanges in the movie-connoisseur industry. It is the night of Oscars.

Watching the Oscars has become traditional overtime for me. I remember the time that Halle Berry wore that gorgeous plum, flowery-dress and  accepted her speech as the best female actress in tears, I remember watching Gwyneth Paltrow arriving in her Audry Hepburn-like pink romantic gown with her beautiful golden hair pulled up in a princess knot, and I remember the year that Heath Ledger was awarded the posthumous award for Best Actor. But most of all, I remember watching not of the award ceremony, but of every single film mentioned in every category with him.

This year, I watched the Academy Awards at a friend’s place with other girls. I laughed and drank wine. We gossiped about movie stars and their dresses, and I, as usual, gave over-opinionated impressions / criticisms of most of the movie stars. As I watched the show, laughed and talked, part of my brain escaped my conscious and with a magic wand of  its own, draw up imaginary scenes in my head.  As I thought of too many thoughts for my own good, such as “it doesn’t matter how beautiful Angelina Jolie is visually, she has done so much good work that trans-passes her physical looks and inspires me to work hard and hope to be able to do charity work someday”, thoughts like ‘oh I loved Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice”, “Brad Pitt looked like the epitome of youthful innocence and desire in Legend of the Fall”, and “ I love the transformations of George Clooney’s acting career over the years”, I thought of him. What is him doing right now? Is he watching the show too? He must be-given how much of a movie lover he is. Unless, of course, with a knick in my head, and in my heart, he’s making love / having sex with his new girlfriend / love. Or simply, he could be watching it with her, with his arms around her, planting kisses around her and holding her tight, laughing and sharing their opinions.

As I watched the show, I noticed how many of the nominated movies I have not seen. From movies such as Hugo, Tintin, The Iron Lady, and the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, to less popular, mainstream movies such as The Secret World of Arrietty, I have not seen any of these movies because I was going to watch them with him.

I wonder, does he think of me tonight, even if for a few minutes?


From → Love

  1. This is very moving, particularly as it gets to the end. I think we can all sympathize with the pain of engaging in an activity we once did with someone we cared deeply about. The activity just doesn’t feel right and normal. Take comfort, though–it will.

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