And the Winner Is…

Me! Because I got to watch the Oscars last night with the 2 most amazing kids in the universe. H stayed up for the first half. (And had trouble getting out of bed this morning. It required several loud Uh Oh's on my part and "your nose has grown to the size of a pumpkin. There are fairies dancing on it.") M went to bed at the very end. (And wanted to know why it's called the Oscars if it's the Academy Awards.)

I actually had seen several of the movies this time around and M had watched Hugo. So that reminds me of how life is changing. But I'm really pleased that The Artist won for best director, best actor, and best picture.

It's the kind of movie that people would scoff at beforehand. In this day and age a black and white silent movie? Oh come on.

As a writer that tickles me no end. And it was completely enjoyable. I just saw it a week ago on a real date with A. Or as much of a date as we get–walking down to the theatre hand in hand (an hour walk), watching the movie, and subway back. For me–that's magic.

And you know what else is magic? That I could turn off the cell phone during the movie and tell my children, "On the off chance you have an emergency while we're watching the movie, go next door to S or to E on the other side or across the street to M & J."

Shelagh Rogers (CBC) said she'd love to live in a neighbourhood like the one in Web of Angels, and asked if my neighbourhood (on which it's based) is really like that.

Yes, it is. And now I'm off to walk off some energy–I have an interview this afternoon!

Filed under: Personal Tagged: Oscars, Writing Life