Barfing with the stars

I read where the Oscars were beginning at 8 ET, so I nestled in with my ginger ale and hope that this hideous bug I caught was over. Sadly, they lied. 8 to 8:30 was the cheesy schmoozing and awkward interviews with stars. I started to zone. I managed to be up until 10 and then all is lost after that. So here is my pieced together recap:

-Martin Scorsese finally wins best director. He deserved it. So did the picture.
-Alan Arkin winning best male supporting actor was correct. He was amazing at the druggie granddad who inspired his granddaughter and even choreographed her.
-Helen Mirren looked so much and acted like The Queen. The Brits brought some class to the awards.
-There will be no recounts! Al Gore officially won for An Inconvenient Truth. We own it. I should watch it.
-Little Miss Sunshine did much better at the SAG awards, but I was glad it also garnered an award for Writing of an original screenplay. Everyone would be lost without the writers.

What was it Jerry Seinfeld said about vomiting as an adult?

“No, 8 years isn’t such a long streak.”
“It isn’t?”
“No, I haven’t vomited in 13 years.”
“Get out!”
“Not since June 29th, 1980.”
“You remember the date?”
“Yes, because my previous vomit was also June 29th—1972. That’s why during the ’80 vomit I was yelling to George, ‘Can you believe it? I’m vomiting on June 29th again!’”

Unless it is alcohol induced, throwing up as an adult is somewhat of a novelty. Yesterday it was downright painful, and I'm not quite myself today. There are so many strains of bugs and other illnesses that pushes our body's ability to resist. So while I enjoyed having my nephews here this weekend while we sled and laughed and had fun, the latter part was no picnic.