Last night was Oscar night and Tinsel Town was in rare form with big egos and even bigger taffeta prom dresses. All and all I found the entire event boring, and yet I watched the whole damn thing…. And now I offer my more detailed thoughts for those of you that have asked, “What did you think, Jolene?”
Well I think I just saw the poor man’s Oscar show.
What happened to the glamour?
What happened to the class?
It all started with Chris Rock’s boring stand-up bit that just oozed mediocre, easy and self-absorbed. Note to Mr. Rock: apparently it’s your thing to shout, you must like the sound of your own voice very much, but we can hear you!
While I’m handing out advice, here’s some for the Oscar camera crew: Just because Chris Rock says the word 'black' does not mean you must pan on the faces of all four black people that attended the event last night. I can only imagine what it’s like in the control room at the Oscars: “Rock just said ‘black’, quick shoot over to Morgan Freeman, good now to Halle! Get Oprah get Oprah!” Nice….”
Billy Crystal has made Oscar glittery and brilliant with his amazing dance and song numbers; What did Chris do? He shouted and wasted everyone’s time. He made jokes that only added to the cheapness of the night, i.e. “Everyone will enjoy these next four presenters Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek." Classy.
Speaking of, did anyone notice the tension between these two Latina Mamas? I was certain that if the two of them had to speak their broken English a minute longer, Salma was going to knock Penelope on the ground. All they needed was Jenny from the Block to provide the mud for their catfight.
But back to Oscar-Light, why oh why bring out the nominees on the stage, or why go into the audience to present awards? Rock’s only saving grace of the night was calling Oscar out on that bull-crap move, “Next year they’ll be handing out Oscars in the parking lot, you can get an Oscar and a McFlurry to go…” So true! I mean they would not have dared had the best actor or actress nominees stand up there together waiting…and then looking so sad and foolish when their name wasn’t called. Tacky!
And then there was the fashion, or lack thereof! Did anyone notice if they were taking prom pictures upon entering the theatre?
I thought everyone looked washed out and tired.... the only woman that looked stunning was Beyonce and wow when did she learn French? Her performances were SO good! She looked so beautiful and glam, the only bad thing that I could possibly say about Beyonce is that at one moment, during her duet with Josh Groban, her hair sort of resembled yarn.
Everyone else needed jewelry and bronzer. And to let their hair down! Why have all this hair if only to twist into to a knot in the back of your head? Hi Renee I’m talking to you, oh and girl eat a steak, please.
One woman that knows how to wear her hair extensions is Miss. Fashion-Icon Halle Berry. But um, Hal it's time to leave the one strap, chiffon numbers alone already! Seriously it’s like she wears a version of the same dress all the time! Yes she looks good, but it’s become so basic, so predictable, who cares? And actually that chiffon on her right boob was pillowy next to the other one, it made her left boob look insey-weensey. Oh Halle, if you're reading this no need to get upset and drink a bunch, you'll probably just end up doing another hit and run and that's not good.... Kate Winslet can join the club on the roster of predictability, sure she looked pretty, but I wouldn’t look twice at her…unless of course if she was African American and Rock said the word black again. Oh and what was with the color blue? Hello 1989!
What's with fat Julia Roberts? Yes I know she squeezed out satan’s spawn (well come on, they're babies of Julia!) but this is Hollywood! Get svelte already! And again, pasty white, lacking jewels, knotty hair, and chunky arms to boot! Okay it seems I really dislike this woman…Well look at her behavior! Clint gets the award for best director and this ridiculous woman, who is so obviously freaking out that she’s going to now be out of the spotlight, does this whole lipstick thing with him just to show us how funny and adorable and great she is? What? Julia it’s NOT your moment, get out of the camera and get your fat arms to the gym. Remember she did the same thing to Denzel a few years back? But instead of wiping off her lipstick she just straddled him? Nice.
Okay I’ll say something kind, Kirsten Dunst looked great! Really. She usually looks like a smelly hippy, but she cleaned up well last night.
Everyone is in awe about Hillary Swank and I am torn. She is beautiful and her attitude seems very cool. That dress was really gorgeous and yet really ugly at the same time. Her breasts looked old and saggy in it. But her back looked like a million bucks. I’m glad she won though, and I’m glad Jamie Fox won too, both seemed quite humbled and it seemed like Oscar actually did something right last night. But poor Chad Lowe.
Of course I can’t forget about the men….oh Sean Penn I am so sorry that a side affect of playing a retard in a movie has now actually made you a retard. That’s too bad.
Mr. Banderas, there’s this invention, it came out decades ago, it’s called shampoo. Did anyone else think that song was so out of place and embarrassingly horrible? I can’t believe it won! I guess Oscar felt the need to placate to the Latinos this year. "If we get them with a bullshit song, then we won;t have to give JLo a best actress nod next year!"
Okay why do these skits with a real actor and a cartoon? We all know cartoons and humans can’t really talk to each other. And the only actor willing enough to do this embarrassing shtick is Remington Steele, I mean Pierce Bronson. Um you sounded like hell, your career can’t be that bad that bronchitis or not you’ll still hang out with a snippy cartoon!
Poor Leonardo DeCrap-io, he had to sit next to that Victoria’s Secret Sheet Set all night, I bet he was getting sleepy. And Mr. Depp, oh you’re so weird and eccentric and yet I love you!
All and all Oscar could have done better. Why not have Oprah host? I mean there is no point of her being there anyway, but if she’s hosting she won’t look so out of place. And she’s got some class, right? She could have worked that and the evening would not have come off so cheaply… but I guess it’s not up to me, after all I am still wearing yesterday’s pajamas and it’s 5:45 in the evening! So who am I to talk really? But before I go I will leave you with this one last thought, the true disgrace of Oscar, and maybe I just missed it, but I don’t think so. During the “In Memory” Spiel, why did Oscar forget to mention Johnny Carson?
Monday, February 28, 2005
Friday, February 04, 2005
Procrastination Rules!
As some of you may or may not know, aside from hustling tips at the Duke of Perth, and doing this acting stuff, I also freelance write. Well I have a story due tomorrow, 2000 words are needed, I believe I'm on word 601. Currently I'm procrastinating by doing what I do best: Being self-indulgent.
So a friend suggested that I post this story that I wrote about three years ago. Here I go!!!!
Enjoy!
Oh and it's 100% true. (oh and beware of the pukey writing style, it was years ago, rememebr, but still a fun story!)
A Semi-Inconspicuous Brassiere at The Parsnip County Shindig!
By Jolene Turner
My friend Dennis, an actor in town, invited me to a showing of his interactive play, The Parsnip County Shindig. This was definitely interactive theater at its best-or worst, depending on your attitude. Dennis, a sweet, upstanding man told me that this was one "not to miss." Although I'm not a huge fan of interactive theater, I am actress, so I understood the importance of supporting a friend's work, especially when a complimentary ticket accompanies it! Not knowing full well what I was getting myself into I was at least armed with Kristin, another compassionate actress, and a freshly poured creamy Guinness. Kristin and I decided it’d be best to leave our well-known killer cynicism at the door.
Upon entering the Shindig we were requested to dress up and become members of one of the families that inhabited Parsnip County. Kristin and I were soon transported from sleek, sophisticated city girls to two of Parsnip County's best, Tinka Snartemo and Gudrun Snartemo. As 20-year-old Tinka, I was the youngest Snartemo, very sweet, yet very naïve; Kristin was Gudrun, my smart and secretly pregnant, motherly sister-in-law. Donning floral wreaths, wrapped around our noggins, and cotton aprons covering our cute urban ensembles, Gudrun and I officially, and finally entered the Parsnip County Shindig!
The evening began with ridiculous square dances, polkas and the Doe-Si-Doe. There were fiddlers, games, contests, and, of course, parsnips galore. The first character I see of course is Dennis, now Soren Snartemo, my older brother. We greet one another as long lost friends. At first I was skeptical to thoroughly jump into the Shindig and "interact" with the real Parsnip County residents, the rehearsed actors. For one reason, as an actress myself, I do this nearly everyday in rehearsal and for a second, more embarrassing reason, this was not an escape for me, but rather a test. Suddenly my often-touted improv skills and apparent talent for transforming into character was on the line; Every insecurity inside of me squelched.
And then all it took was one quick glimpse of Gudrun, in full character yelping, "these are some mighty fine parsnips, don't-cha-know?" next to our other transformed Snartemo family members, looking horrified, and I suddenly became Tinka Snartemo. Secretly inside I was thanking God that sweet Tinka’s character description included her inability to hold lengthy conversations and her perpetual desire to smile. Grinning like a kitten that just discovered catnip, I was soon dancing up a storm with Soren, Gudrun and a sleuth of Parsnip county residents.
Two hours, five ho-downs and one session of bad Parsnip County poetry later, Gudrun and I realized it was time to relieve ourselves from the now much appreciated, and quickly moving Guinness. In the lady's room we chitchatted about the Shindig, our secret desire to leave, and my big dilemma: My evil bra darting its wiry, fabric-laden support into my delicate sternum.
I cried out, "that's it! I've had it! This damn bra is killing me!" So I asked Gudrun if she thought it'd be inappropriate if I just take it off. We both decided it was late in the evening and I was in too much pain to consider what's "appropriate", so off went the bra! Unfortunately my purse was in the other room, but resourceful woman that I am, I knew I could come up with a plan. Within moments my bra was wrapped up neatly and concealed tightly under my apron strings-no one would ever know! We left the lady's room, me feeling quite fantastic, and Gudrun feeling hungry; it was time for a jolt of sugar. Stopping at the concession to ogle over the freshly baked cookies, Gudrun got a twinkle in her eye, and with even quicker wit than my bra dilemma, she activated her sweet charm. In a flash she slyly tricked the refreshment counter men into providing us with day-old cookies for free as opposed to the fresh ones for $1.25. I am pleased with Gudrun's quick-witted thinking. After all we are starving actresses.
With bellies full of chocolate and cooked dough we returned to the Parsnip County Shindig just in time for the crowning of the Parsnip Royalty, including this year's Parsnip County Princess! Elated with the thought of my crowning glory, I smiled even bigger! As Miss City girl I may have some insecurities, but as Tinka Snartemo I was one confident dame. As we waited to hear the winners, I planned my acceptance speech. I decided there was only one way to accept the crown of Parsnip County Princess-Halle Berry style! Finally the moment arrived and actor Ben Chadwick, playing Ralph "Buddy" Concourse, said: "And this year's Parsnip County Princess is...Gudrun Snartemo!”
Gudrun Snartemo?! What!? Wait a Minute! I'm the sweet one! I'm single. I'm not pregnant! And I'm the Grand Prize Winner for this year's Best Baked Goods County Contest for goodness sakes! What just happened? So I did the "Halle Berry" anyway.
Sweet, good Gudrun walked nervously, yet so modestly, to accept her new royal status, and I sat in the background balling at the top of my lungs. Gudrun accepted her crown in style and announced her new home and pregnancy with husband Steve. The County was excited and pleased with her good fortune. I could have cared less.
The ceremony was soon over and now it was time to dance! Princess Gudrun let me hold her beautiful crown, only for a moment, and as my sadness dwindled we grabbed our dancing partners for the final Parsnip County dance of the night. We Doe-Si-Doed, played follow the leader, swung one another, and grooved until our heart's content. The dancing eventually winded down and our faces were flushed with the excitement of fiddler men and polka music. We began to turn in our Parsnip County accessories one by one and slowly slip back into our 2002 city selves.
Back in black and a little less cynical, I looked forward to retreating to a bar for an evening drink, or two, and then it hit me: Where the hell is my bra?! Suddenly all my happiness and joy was gone, I shifted from sweet, fun dancing girl to psycho-find-my-bra girl. Frantically I tore through the clothing pieces of Parsnip County and I grabbed Kristin. Speechless, I pointed at the clothes, I could not vocalize the words that needed to be said. Finally in a scratchy whisper I confessed, "my bra! my bra!" Kristin, knowing full well what has happened, simply looked at me, smiled and instantaneously laughed. Then a wonderful thing happened. My anxiety slipped into laughter as well, uncontrollable lively laughter, "What the hell was I thinking?"
Realizing it's gone, and dreadfully embarrassed, I decided the best thing to do was just get out of there before someone finds it, after all the thing gave me much pain, why would I want it back? But then I realized I had to say ‘hello, good job and goodbye’ to Dennis. As he walked up to greet me, Kristin and I were still engulfed in wild laughter, and my insecurities were in full bloom. He asked what is so funny, I somewhat composingly replied: "Oh nothing...really, just my costume got messed up."
He wanted to know full details. But, you see, I couldn’t have innocent, sweet Dennis know that my bra is somewhere on the set and not where it should be, hugging my bosoms! I quickly changed the subject. Success! Dennis and I chitchatted, while Kristin scanned the dance floor. The bra was nowhere. But I calmed down. It will be okay, I thought. No it won’t! I tore through the accessories again, nothing, and a buzz of actors and friends joked amongst us as we began our final good byes.
Kristin and I inspected the remains of the Parsnip County Shindig one last time. Could it be in the Town Hall? At the parsnip sculpting booth? Or, gulp, in someone’s perplexed hands? This thought is too overwhelming, I had to give up, I began to leave and then I heard it, the boisterous screech of an actress, "So whose brassiere was that on the dance floor?"
Consecutively I shrieked, Kristin laughed and Dennis’ pure little head whipped around with jaw-dropped, eyes bulged and fingers pointed, and then he uttered, "is that yours?" Flustered I lied, "no! No! God, NO!" It was too late, in his heart he knew the truth and soon everyone would! They would know that my modest bazookas were unsupported and humiliated as I was with the thought that there, now on the stage, was MY bra! My sad green-colored, off brand bra. There was nothing I could do, but take a tip from my evenings alter-ego Tinka, I smiled stupidly and didn’t say a word.
Finally I ran far from the Parsnip County Shindig, holding my loose breasts so as to keep them from swinging. I ran deep back into the city, where I could remain anonymous, enjoy another Guinness, revel in learning the Doe-Si-Doe, and smile broadly, as myself, the foolish girl who thought she could go braless and get away with it.
So a friend suggested that I post this story that I wrote about three years ago. Here I go!!!!
Enjoy!
Oh and it's 100% true. (oh and beware of the pukey writing style, it was years ago, rememebr, but still a fun story!)
A Semi-Inconspicuous Brassiere at The Parsnip County Shindig!
By Jolene Turner
My friend Dennis, an actor in town, invited me to a showing of his interactive play, The Parsnip County Shindig. This was definitely interactive theater at its best-or worst, depending on your attitude. Dennis, a sweet, upstanding man told me that this was one "not to miss." Although I'm not a huge fan of interactive theater, I am actress, so I understood the importance of supporting a friend's work, especially when a complimentary ticket accompanies it! Not knowing full well what I was getting myself into I was at least armed with Kristin, another compassionate actress, and a freshly poured creamy Guinness. Kristin and I decided it’d be best to leave our well-known killer cynicism at the door.
Upon entering the Shindig we were requested to dress up and become members of one of the families that inhabited Parsnip County. Kristin and I were soon transported from sleek, sophisticated city girls to two of Parsnip County's best, Tinka Snartemo and Gudrun Snartemo. As 20-year-old Tinka, I was the youngest Snartemo, very sweet, yet very naïve; Kristin was Gudrun, my smart and secretly pregnant, motherly sister-in-law. Donning floral wreaths, wrapped around our noggins, and cotton aprons covering our cute urban ensembles, Gudrun and I officially, and finally entered the Parsnip County Shindig!
The evening began with ridiculous square dances, polkas and the Doe-Si-Doe. There were fiddlers, games, contests, and, of course, parsnips galore. The first character I see of course is Dennis, now Soren Snartemo, my older brother. We greet one another as long lost friends. At first I was skeptical to thoroughly jump into the Shindig and "interact" with the real Parsnip County residents, the rehearsed actors. For one reason, as an actress myself, I do this nearly everyday in rehearsal and for a second, more embarrassing reason, this was not an escape for me, but rather a test. Suddenly my often-touted improv skills and apparent talent for transforming into character was on the line; Every insecurity inside of me squelched.
And then all it took was one quick glimpse of Gudrun, in full character yelping, "these are some mighty fine parsnips, don't-cha-know?" next to our other transformed Snartemo family members, looking horrified, and I suddenly became Tinka Snartemo. Secretly inside I was thanking God that sweet Tinka’s character description included her inability to hold lengthy conversations and her perpetual desire to smile. Grinning like a kitten that just discovered catnip, I was soon dancing up a storm with Soren, Gudrun and a sleuth of Parsnip county residents.
Two hours, five ho-downs and one session of bad Parsnip County poetry later, Gudrun and I realized it was time to relieve ourselves from the now much appreciated, and quickly moving Guinness. In the lady's room we chitchatted about the Shindig, our secret desire to leave, and my big dilemma: My evil bra darting its wiry, fabric-laden support into my delicate sternum.
I cried out, "that's it! I've had it! This damn bra is killing me!" So I asked Gudrun if she thought it'd be inappropriate if I just take it off. We both decided it was late in the evening and I was in too much pain to consider what's "appropriate", so off went the bra! Unfortunately my purse was in the other room, but resourceful woman that I am, I knew I could come up with a plan. Within moments my bra was wrapped up neatly and concealed tightly under my apron strings-no one would ever know! We left the lady's room, me feeling quite fantastic, and Gudrun feeling hungry; it was time for a jolt of sugar. Stopping at the concession to ogle over the freshly baked cookies, Gudrun got a twinkle in her eye, and with even quicker wit than my bra dilemma, she activated her sweet charm. In a flash she slyly tricked the refreshment counter men into providing us with day-old cookies for free as opposed to the fresh ones for $1.25. I am pleased with Gudrun's quick-witted thinking. After all we are starving actresses.
With bellies full of chocolate and cooked dough we returned to the Parsnip County Shindig just in time for the crowning of the Parsnip Royalty, including this year's Parsnip County Princess! Elated with the thought of my crowning glory, I smiled even bigger! As Miss City girl I may have some insecurities, but as Tinka Snartemo I was one confident dame. As we waited to hear the winners, I planned my acceptance speech. I decided there was only one way to accept the crown of Parsnip County Princess-Halle Berry style! Finally the moment arrived and actor Ben Chadwick, playing Ralph "Buddy" Concourse, said: "And this year's Parsnip County Princess is...Gudrun Snartemo!”
Gudrun Snartemo?! What!? Wait a Minute! I'm the sweet one! I'm single. I'm not pregnant! And I'm the Grand Prize Winner for this year's Best Baked Goods County Contest for goodness sakes! What just happened? So I did the "Halle Berry" anyway.
Sweet, good Gudrun walked nervously, yet so modestly, to accept her new royal status, and I sat in the background balling at the top of my lungs. Gudrun accepted her crown in style and announced her new home and pregnancy with husband Steve. The County was excited and pleased with her good fortune. I could have cared less.
The ceremony was soon over and now it was time to dance! Princess Gudrun let me hold her beautiful crown, only for a moment, and as my sadness dwindled we grabbed our dancing partners for the final Parsnip County dance of the night. We Doe-Si-Doed, played follow the leader, swung one another, and grooved until our heart's content. The dancing eventually winded down and our faces were flushed with the excitement of fiddler men and polka music. We began to turn in our Parsnip County accessories one by one and slowly slip back into our 2002 city selves.
Back in black and a little less cynical, I looked forward to retreating to a bar for an evening drink, or two, and then it hit me: Where the hell is my bra?! Suddenly all my happiness and joy was gone, I shifted from sweet, fun dancing girl to psycho-find-my-bra girl. Frantically I tore through the clothing pieces of Parsnip County and I grabbed Kristin. Speechless, I pointed at the clothes, I could not vocalize the words that needed to be said. Finally in a scratchy whisper I confessed, "my bra! my bra!" Kristin, knowing full well what has happened, simply looked at me, smiled and instantaneously laughed. Then a wonderful thing happened. My anxiety slipped into laughter as well, uncontrollable lively laughter, "What the hell was I thinking?"
Realizing it's gone, and dreadfully embarrassed, I decided the best thing to do was just get out of there before someone finds it, after all the thing gave me much pain, why would I want it back? But then I realized I had to say ‘hello, good job and goodbye’ to Dennis. As he walked up to greet me, Kristin and I were still engulfed in wild laughter, and my insecurities were in full bloom. He asked what is so funny, I somewhat composingly replied: "Oh nothing...really, just my costume got messed up."
He wanted to know full details. But, you see, I couldn’t have innocent, sweet Dennis know that my bra is somewhere on the set and not where it should be, hugging my bosoms! I quickly changed the subject. Success! Dennis and I chitchatted, while Kristin scanned the dance floor. The bra was nowhere. But I calmed down. It will be okay, I thought. No it won’t! I tore through the accessories again, nothing, and a buzz of actors and friends joked amongst us as we began our final good byes.
Kristin and I inspected the remains of the Parsnip County Shindig one last time. Could it be in the Town Hall? At the parsnip sculpting booth? Or, gulp, in someone’s perplexed hands? This thought is too overwhelming, I had to give up, I began to leave and then I heard it, the boisterous screech of an actress, "So whose brassiere was that on the dance floor?"
Consecutively I shrieked, Kristin laughed and Dennis’ pure little head whipped around with jaw-dropped, eyes bulged and fingers pointed, and then he uttered, "is that yours?" Flustered I lied, "no! No! God, NO!" It was too late, in his heart he knew the truth and soon everyone would! They would know that my modest bazookas were unsupported and humiliated as I was with the thought that there, now on the stage, was MY bra! My sad green-colored, off brand bra. There was nothing I could do, but take a tip from my evenings alter-ego Tinka, I smiled stupidly and didn’t say a word.
Finally I ran far from the Parsnip County Shindig, holding my loose breasts so as to keep them from swinging. I ran deep back into the city, where I could remain anonymous, enjoy another Guinness, revel in learning the Doe-Si-Doe, and smile broadly, as myself, the foolish girl who thought she could go braless and get away with it.
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