"Ma, I’m a BIG STAR! I bought you a security system!"

The Oscar™ image I’ve been searching for is Javier Bardem’s mom. (I’m timely!) When he won, they cut away to Pilar Bardem wearing literally every piece of jewelry she owns. Half dozen necklaces! Both arms full of bangles! A ring on each and every finger, like brass knuckles! She looked like an insecure pirate. What led up to that image?

Scene:

Place: Bardem household
Time: Oscar night. Just before the limo arrives.

Mrs. Bardem: One more necklace is really gonna make this outfit sing, Jav.

Javier: I think you’ve got enough, Ma. Your jewelry box is empty.

Mrs. Bardem: Not quite. Pass me that macaroni necklace you made in the Spanish equivalent of pre-school.

Javier: We can just call it pre-school, Ma.

Mrs. Bardem: Macaroni necklace!

Javier: Here you go. And the rings? Do you really need one for each finger?

Mrs. Bardem: Remember last year I had to punch Nicole Kidman when she stole your seat? I’m not taking that chance again.

Javier: I know, she still has that ruby imprint from the uppercut. Ma, I told you, I’m a big star now. You gotta stop punching people.

Mrs. Bardem: Anyway, I told all the girls at canasta and the salon that my son, Javier, is taking me to the Oscars™ tonight. Everyone knows we’re there. What if they break in?

Javier: What kind of crowd are you running with? And I told you: Ma, I’m a BIG STAR! I bought you a security system!

Mrs. Bardem: Besides, I don’t trust your maid. She only speaks Spanish.

Javier: Maaaaaaa… we’re gonna be late. Wait, you’re Spanish. We’re having this conversation in Spanish.

Mrs. Bardem: You know what? I’m just going to take the jewelry box with me. I’ll just carry it like a purse.

Javier: You can’t do that, Ma. Ellen Page will laugh at us. What are you doing?

Mrs. Bardem: Help me load up the good silver.

It happened last week. A roundup

Just in case you thought not working a 9-to-5 job might be boring, you better check yourself.


1. Found out my roommate’s moving out because she doesn’t want to split the broker’s fee for the apartment with me, as she agreed to do. She stuck me with the whole bill for that and gave me a week’s notice to find a new roommate and somehow twisted it around in her little mind that I was at fault and am somehow profiting from this. This will be a long, boring post once I’m not too angry to embrace syntax again.

2. Got hit on by a deaf guy. When I told (wrote) him that I didn’t have TTD (which in my mind stands for “talking to the deaf” but is actually some sort of voice thing so you can…talk to the deaf) on my phone, he told me I could call his brother, who would relay the message. I’m so following up on this.

3. Got Tiki Barber’s autograph. My dad’s a big ol’ Giants fan and my brother and I are in an arms race to see who can get him more autographs/phone calls with cool people. The Giants were in the Super Bowl a few years ago (Wikipedia it yourself) and he was severely injured in the games leading up to it, but then he was Mr. Goldenlegs on the field. They cut away to his twin, Ronde, in the stands and my dad and I were two people with the same thought…Ronde was the one playing! I meant to check with Tiki about this. Also, if Tiki got an online encyclopedia it would be Tikipedia. That’s just how my mind works. Embrace it.

4. Tiki was very concerned about my dad’s heath because…

5. My dad is starting radiation after they removed a cancerous bit of his nose. I’m so wanting a Nose Cancer Livestrong bracelet and/or run-walk. Yes, this is the same dad who came within inches of death last year around this time.

6. Emailed with the writer of an Oscar-winning movie because he wanted to see my scripts. More on this soon, you best believe.

7. A homeless man did a sketch of me on the subway. I was excited about the cool piece of art coming my way as he was working. That soon faded, as the result looks like me if my face were shot with a horse tranquilizer. I still gave him $2 since I’m nothing if not a patron of the arts.

8. I heard a guy get shot. I was leaving someone’s apartment. Although they’re in a nice building, it’s across from (what’s the P.C. way to say this?) an ungentrified area. I watched a herd of teenagers shouting each other, careful to stay across the street (because bullets can’t go across the street. Duh.) There was a huge blast and everyone started running (except for that one kid, I suppose). Girls — not women, but girls — pushed their strollers away quickly, which I’m sure disappointed the infants, because what baby doesn’t want a front-row seat to a fight in Harlem at midnight?

I don't know what to say. This award comes as such a surprise

I read Red's blog today and was like “Hot damn that’s some banter! I want to be friends with them!” Then I realized it was because half of it was mine. So here I am, reclaiming – for you, the reader – the brilliance of last night’s liveblogging, Special Oscars Edition. (For the nine of you who don’t come here directly from The Tent)

Me: Do you have an Oscar speech?

Red: Yes, it's really dignified. Would you like to hear it?

Me: Yes, please. And tell me what you won for.

Red: First, you should know that I'm wearing extensions that are so real-looking that my hair simply looks like it suddenly became voluminous and wavy. I'm at my 18-year-old weight. The smile eye wrinkles have disappeared.

Me: In other words, you've gone all Hollywood on us. I assume you've forgotten the little people and we no longer speak.

Red: I glide onto the stage as if propelled by invisible wires and the love of the audience.

Me: Awesome. The blogosphere will be agog.

Red: The real Red would throw up and then die. But Oscar-winning Red tears up just enough to be genuine but not too much, so as to keep all make-up intact.

Me: And what witty comments will you make to be the buzz of the Oscars?

Red: I start with the adjectives... the incredible cast, amazing director, and (choke) my wonderful family and my friends who I love so much, and of course my doting husband Jason [Varitek].

Me: You are quite the accomplished couple! The toast of Boston.

Red: What color should my dress be?

Me: Deep navy with some sparkle. Duh.

Red: I already know that when I'm on the red carpet and they ask me what I'm wearing, I'll say blue.

Me: Gucci will take back their swag!

Red: Okay, now tell me... your award/speech/dress?

Me: Ahem, well, I'm assuming that I'll win for Best Screenplay.

Red: Yes.

Me: I'm going to jump on stuff, likely trip up the stairs, then say "I became a writer so I wouldn't have to speak in front of people, and it's backfired horribly..."

Red: I like that.

Me: Then shout out to friends, family, amazing cast, my husband John Krasinski. We met on set. How cute are we?

Red: Jason and John are in their seats with misty eyes, maybe a single tear. But I don't really want them to Chad Lowe out.

Me: From there it'll devolve into a bitter Constanza-like rant about the people I hate, and they'll drag me off, one security guard under each armpit.

Red: Totally! Pull a Fiona Apple at the MTV awards. "This world is bullshit!"


Me: You gotta make a name for yourself.

Red: From then on, anytime people throw fits it'll be called pulling a [my last name].

Me: I'll parlay that into a book deal: "This world is bullshit!: Saying what you feel in a messed up world."