Oscars and Bitching

Three days later and I'm still on Los Angeles time. I slept for nearly thirteen hours on Saturday night, but that still didn't reset my system. But on the plus side, I discovered the cheap coffee maker (one of three technical coffee-making devices found in my kitchen) actually works and can make coffee that doesn't also work as an astringent or paint thinner, so I am very much looking forward to tomorrow morning when I can wake up and enjoy a steaming cup of strong but not steroid-enhanced java. I mean, I enjoy a nice espresso or café crème once in a while (or, ok, more than once in a while), but sometimes it's nice to drink coffee that doesn't make you wince as if you were drinking whisky every time you take a sip and cause you to pee every five minutes like an Irishman on St. Patrick's Day.

Being back is a little weird. Somewhere over winter break, when I was in California, the novelty of Paris wore off. It's strange because you would think that would happen here. You'd think I'd be walking along the Seine and suddenly become disillusioned with it all, or I'd be somewhere in the 20th thinking, man, this place is dirty. But it happened somewhere between the time someone asked me if I liked Paris and when I answered, "yeah, it's cool," instead of my usual, "yes, I love it there." Something snapped and I saw Paris from a Parisian's perspective. Well, I didn't really because I don't think you can see things from a Parisian's perspective unless you're actually Parisian, but I think living here for a year and a half has given me at least a little bit of credibility. Like I was saying, I started looking at Paris as a metropolitan capitol, as the chaotic hub of numerous industries where everyone's running to get somewhere but going as slow as they possibly can just to piss you off, where the buildings are quasi-homogeneous and old, the women are skinny and the men are jackasses, the cabbies are bitter, and the dogshit is technicolor. But it's also the place where people take time to exist, pleasure in what they do, and nothing in their coffee, where the scenery makes you want to write sonnets and ballads, history comes alive around every corner, and the smell of fresh bread emanates from underground vents like the Devil beckoning you into some darkened street corner you know you shouldn't go into but just can't stay out of. It's the best of times, it's the worst of times; it's the season of Light, it's the season of Darkness; we have everything before us, we have nothing before us; she's my sister, she's my daughter - I mean, we're all going directly to Heaven, we're all going the other way. This place is like a black hole of hypocrisy. On one block you have multi-million-Euro apartments drowning in antique chandeliers and Louis XVI chaise lounges, but just down the street there are three clochards sleeping on the stoop of the post office and dining on a healthy diet of Kronenburg and two-buck-Chuck. No one wants anyone else to know about their private lives, but apartment buildings butt up against one another and no one bothers to close their curtains. The French get mad at Sarkozy for bringing in American capitalism to French society, but they invented the department store and consumer capitalism (and still practice it). You can't wear a veil or an ostentatious religious symbol to a public school, but All Saints' Day is a national holiday.

And yet, I can't help but love it here. Maybe it's because everyone is just as bitter and cynical as I am. Or maybe it's because I'm just as much a hypocrite as they are.

Now, for some non-Paris commentary. The Oscar nominations are coming out as I write this. So far all the big categories have come out, and I'm pretty happy with them. I'm kind of surprised Juno was nominated for Best Picture, but really ecstatic nonetheless, especially for Ellen Page's nomination. There really aren't any shockers though, except that now people will legally be able to refer to the crapfest that was Norbit as Oscar nominated Norbit since Rick Baker picked up a nomination for makeup. I really hope "Falling Slowly" from Once wins for best Original Song, partly because it's an outstanding movie which I recommend if you haven't seen, but also because Enchanted has three songs up for that award, and I'd kind of like to see the Academy give the finger to the corporate monster (even though I admittedly loved the movie). As much as I'd love to see Johnny Depp finally win one (this is his third nomination, after all) Daniel Day-Lewis will probably win for There Will Be Blood, which I have to see before Oscar night, or there really will be blood. I think best actress is kind of a tie between Julie Christie and Marion Cotillard, judging by what everyone else is saying. I hope they don't give it to Cate Blanchett, despite the fact that she's a great actress and seems to be a genuinely nice person, but come on - if you saw that trailer, you knew right from the get-go the only reason they made that movie was to go Oscar fishing. If Ellen Page wins, I'll be really surprised and a little disappointed that Marion Cotillard got shut out by a 19 year old, although I'll still be very ok with it. If you saw La Môme or La Vie en Rose, you know what I'm talking about and will be cheering for the Frenchie on February 24. For the supporting categories, I hope Javier Bardem gets it, just so we can hear another one of his very gracious and oh-so-adorable acceptance speeches. "I feel like I won the lottery"? Swoon. As for directing, I really don't care, but Schnabel will probably win for Le Scaphandre et le papillon (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly), another one I have to see. Original Screenplay will probably be Diablo Cody for Juno, which I guess I'm ok with, even though I sincerely believe she will never write anything as good or successful ever again. I don't know, I just have a feeling about that one. Out of all the scripts I read, that was my favorite, along with Lars and the Real Girl, which is also nominated. For Adapted Screenplay, I really have no idea - all the movies are supposedly fantastic and deserve awards.

Finally, I know I already did this category, but can we talk for just a minute about how happy I am that Keira "I'm just naturally that skinny" Knightley wasn't nominated? I have one word for her: OVERRATED. For serious.

I really hope the show still goes on so I can watch it. I missed it last time Jon Stewart hosted, and I'll be really upset if it's canceled.

I think that's about all I have to say for right now. I was supposed to do some work on the translation with someone, but she kind of flaked and pushed back our meeting to... oh, whenever she feels like calling me. Don't even get me started on what the French consider punctual. And I'm always late? HAH!