Oscar, How I Love Thee

Confession: I am an Oscar slut. As in, I love watching the Oscars. Love the suspense, love the catty comments over the dresses, love tearing up at the “In Memoriam,” love the whole overblown spectacle.

And I really loved Jon Stewart as host. He can crack me up with a lifted brow, so imagine how easy I am at a good joke. Case in point: “Bjork was trying on her Oscar dress, and Dick Cheney shot her” or the Oscar countdown: “Martin Scorsese, zero Oscars. Three Six Mafia, one Oscar.” Plus, he didn’t go overboard with the Brokeback Mountain humor (although the opening bit with Billy Crystal and Chris Rock in the tent was classic). The political ads for Best Actress were fun, too: “I just don’t feel comfortable with any of this during a time of war” [poking fun at the foreign-sounding names of the nominees] and “Judi Dench put my eye out!”

I fell in love with George Clooney all over again during his charming acceptance speech (“Academy Award winner, Sexiest Man Alive 1997, and Batman George Clooney died in a freak accident…”), and Reese Witherspoon has cemented herself as my #1 favorite blonde (and that’s saying something, since I’m not partial to blondes). Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin played off each other like they’ve spent their whole lives as next door neighbors. And is there anything better than scads of handsome men in tuxedos (Jake Gyllenhaal, anyone?).

I want to look like Salma Hayek, dammit. Or Keira Knightley. Or maybe I just want their stylists and a magic weight drop.

Nothing like the Oscars to fuel my IMDb obsession for another year. Time to stack up some movies in the Netflix queue!