I. Am. Beat.
Let me just start by saying that Oscar Night was a total disappointment. Nothing crazy happened. No one wore anything especially attention-getting -- except for the screenwriter for Brokeback Mountain, who showed up in jeans. (I am, however, still not sure who put together Naomi Watts's rags-n-rubber-bands dress. Or why.) No one did anything outrageous. Really, the only thing of interest was the Three 6 Mafia, who won the Oscar for Best Original Song, for their song, "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp," which officially marked the beginning of the end for the Oscars. Mark my words. Next year, a Rob Schneider movie will win Best Picture. Then the world will be overtaken by gerbils. The end is near!
Two fabulously cool things happened last night, though. First, I won Anjo's Oscar Night giveaway for a copy of her Project Spectrum March CD (as seen on Lolly's blog). I may have been sitting on my butt, in jeans and a spaghetti sauce-spattered sweatshirt, while all of Hollywood was all glammed-out, but I won something. That puts me one up on Joaquin Phoenix.
Second, I finished Baby Sweater #1:
Yea! I even got cute little flowery buttons. Those are my Girl Buttons. If they have a boy, that's a different story... I didn't find any good Boy Buttons to go with the sweater yet. I have to keep looking.
After finishing, I decided to forego the Something-Fab for me and start on a baby blanket. Boo! But it's on 15s! Yea! I'll whip that puppy out in no time.
So after I finished running around the house, screaming "I called it!" after Crash won its Best Picture Oscar, I couldn't sleep, for a number of reasons -- some of which don't even have anything to do with the fact that I just totally love Oscar Night. And it made me mad because I had to get up early this morning -- because I needed to get some work done before I went to babysit Julie's little one -- and I just needed to get to sleep. So then I got mad. Then I really couldn't sleep.
So Paul got up this morning, and I told him to let me sleep for a few minutes -- and get me up when he got out of the shower. A few minutes later (after I'd finally gotten to sleep for what felt like the first time), at SIX-THIRTY, I was rudely awakened by the frickin' neighbor. Our neighbor, you see, has the loudest truck in the world. In the morning (usually at 7:40, which isn't a problem -- just a serious annoyance), he starts up his crazy-loud truck and revs it in the driveway while he lets it warm up. For fifteen minutes or so. It's so loud that it not only wakes me up (even though I've got an air purifier running right next to the bed to drown out crap like that), but it shakes the whole house. I was so mad that I almost went out there in my jammies, bed head and all, and kicked some serious arse. Is this man deaf? Does he not realize that he wakes up people in the next ZIP code when he starts his truck in the morning?
So I finally got up, whining as I did, and took a shower. I've been living on coffee and Mountain Dew all day. And now I have to go to the store this afternoon to hang out with the girls. I'm frantically praying for patience.
BTW -- while I was at Julie's this morning, I saw the yarn she dyed on Friday. GORGEOUS! I'm putting in a big KnitPicks order so I'll have plenty of lace weight of my own to dye. I'm going to be up to my ears in hand-dyed lace shawls, and I'm going to love every minute of it.