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How The Oscars Stole My Sleep 2014

I’ve now been awake for 23 hours and I’m ehm… heading to work?

Well, after a couple of hours of restless unproductive, possibly counterproductive sleep I am. I can already feel my skin breaking out in weird, sugar-fueled acne that will scare the living shit out of you.

So, Oscars huh, Ellen “A-list wank” selfie, fairly good and short acceptance speeches, so many questions though, like, where was Ben Affleck, and was the kid from Captain Phillips really bummed out that he didn’t win, and did Whoopie Goldberg decide on that white shirt under a perfectly fine black dress JUST before leaving the house?

Also, who was J-Law referring to when she scolded someone for laughing, was Tom Hanks even around, and what did Christoph Waltz win an Oscar for last year (I can’t believe I’m even asking this but, blimey I don’t even remember!).

Speaking of the new American Sweetheart (a title I can only imagine Julia Roberts squirming viciously about), what the hell was the deal with that backward necklace (bad choice, bad, Jennifer), and did that weird mechanical, model-faced presenter really call Julia Roberts JESSICA Roberts? HOW DO YOU DO THAT. I ask. Sincerely baffled and astounded.

I’ve enjoyed… to various degrees…. watching the Academy Awards every year since 2000. This was one of the few years I actually went “Gee, you guys did well.”

The games are fixed anyway. It’s unfortunately based on a lot of “it’s this person’s TURN to win” and apparent ‘campaigning’ rather than 6000 people who watched all the movies (because they love movies, because DUH) and went “I can with great confidence, based on fact and my personal preferences for this or that performance, determine that [insert movie name] was the best of the lot.”

But that’s not how it is now is it.

If the Academy had asked me, I would agree on Leto, Blanchett and Nyong’o but YOU PASSED OVER LEONARDO DICAPRIO on what was VERY LIKELY a PERFORMANCE OF A LIFETIME.

Fair enough, I haven’t seen ‘Dallas Buyers Club’, but WE STILL REMEMBER ‘HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS’, ‘SAHARA’ and ‘FAILURE TO LAUNCH’. McConaughey. WE REMEMBER.

This is just as ridiculous as Jonah Hill holding more nominations than Gary Oldman. Yeah. Think about that for a moment. I can agree to his performance in ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ but ‘Moneyball’ ???? WERE YOU HIGH.

Fuck.

Sleep deprivation is getting to me.

I had tipped the ‘Frozen’ song to win, but I didn’t know that the woman who’d be singing it was gonna be horrible. My friend was raving about this song and that lady ruined it. And she KNEW she ruined it. And EVERYONE KNEW, but they still pity clapped, even going as far as PITY STANDING for this incompetent performer. Yeah, I get it, it’s the Oscars and it’s pretty big and you’re nervous but THIS IS WHAT YOU DO. Is this your first time on the stage? Why would you accept to do this if you weren’t ready?

It’s bad enough we have to listen to Ellen’s weird pizza joke – but now this; out of rhythm, out of tune, OUT OF YOUR MIND?!

Sandra Bullock, thankfully, did not nab another Oscar – though she probably should have gotten one for ‘Gravity’ rather than the useless and superfluous ‘The Blind Side’. I don’t know what happened that year. But everyone was being a good sport and threw technical awards at an obviously superior technical movie. Well done, space nerds.

On a completely unrelated note, the royals of Hollywood, Brad and Angelina, kinda seemed like those weird far-our relatives who are totally perfect and you just hate them for being this great. Or do I? When they played the video of Angelina receiving the humanitarian honorary award, Brad leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, and had you asked me 4 months ago what I thought about that, I would have been like “PFFF SO WHAT, SLOBBER FACE” but now that I know better, I was all like “AAAAWLEEEE CUUUUUUTE GAAAAAAAH” and it was gross.

Also. Angelina’s boobs. I know they’re fake (or – are they clip-on prosthetics? Would she be that hard-core?) but damn girl. They’re huge now.

I like it. Makes it believable that she had “six” kids.

Is Julia Roberts still married?

And where was George Clooney, the gang was there, his movie was on the board, but where was the new Mr. Hollywood?

So many questions.

The internet’s boyfriend Benedict and my secret lover, Michael Fassbender, were both in the same row (I think??) and both looked dreamy and luscious lipped (Adventure Time!). Michael (and even, for some reason completely out of the blue, Ewan McGregor) has a beard that closely resembles my other boyfriend, the one I get to touch. I like that. Beards are sexy.

More sexy beards!

I did whole-heartedly approve of the “no-clapping”/”equal timed” In Memoriam bit and jesus did the industry lose a lot of people I knew of this year. Or was that just me who thought that – James Gandolfini, Paul Walker, Peter O’Toole, Shirley Temple, Phillip Seymour Hoffman…. Although, when people die from drugs, I tend to dismiss it as assisted suicide. Really, what the fuck are you doing.

I must say, I did enjoy this year’s performance, nice work Oscar production team, it felt like an awkward family get-together turn good, though what the hell with that “look at us, we’ve invited aspiring teenage moviemakers to be price camels this year – yay!” Looked like the most ridiculous pretext for free labour. Yeah, put that on your CV. ‘I touched an Oscar’.

Oscar curse all over those poor sons of bitches.

Can I just mention that ‘Helium’, which is Danish, and made by the brother of a local singer who used to date Helena Christensen (who has a baby with Norman Reedus – who’s on The Walking Dead, which was on AT THE SAME TIME. KEVIN BACON) won the only out of three Danish-made entries. Three entries. Even I’m impressed and I’m as dead inside as John Travolta’s toupee.

But that’s pretty much all the praise anything Danish will get from me today. Why? Because the coverage from Denmark, the live coverage, the shit they put on when there’re commercial breaks in the States, is SO RUBBISH I CAN’T…. CAN’T EVEN….. RACIST….. ILL-RESEARCHED…… JUST… DUMB… DUMB SHIT…. NO WORDS…. ENCOMPASS… OUTRAGE.

It’s like… the biggest trolling ever.

Fire those idiots. Do it NOW.

Urgh, my sadness that Leo didn’t win is coming back. So much disappointment. Such great feels.

My train is stuck in Hobro.

I seriously need to poo but can’t bring myself to leave my seat. This is gonna be a long ass Monday.

Happy Oscars to you.

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Five Reasons Women are Harder to Friend than Men

Mellow greetings!

If you know this reference off the top of your head, virtual high-five from me.

I’ve got SO many topics I want to blog about, but so far, I’ve been unable to make it first priority. I know, WTF. But here’s a quick one for ya, one that I’ve contemplated for a while and that I’m sure I can’t be the only one struggling with.

So, I’m a girl who finds the task of making friends with other girls daunting.

I know I’m a girl myself (duh!) but other girls are weird. Surely I can’t be the only one thinking this. Guys are weird too, but in different ways, and funny enough, not in ways that necessarily make them unapproachable or irritating to hang out with.

Girls can be.

I have a lot of ideas about friendship, gender, feminism and equality and all that stuff… which I think are interesting, but which are not fully fledged. One day, I nail this theory and we can all move on with our lives. Until then, all I got is this (in reference to the headline – FYI):

REASON 1: Women are each others competition. I wrote about this paradox in an even more rambled version here, but I also think it’s a valid point when it comes to the whole ‘friending’ scene. It’s hard to trust a girl when you’re not 100% sure that further down the line, that same girl isn’t gonna two-time you over a man. Even worse, over THE man.

Hoes before Bros. Until no.

I can’t say this is relevant for me (because I’m an unwashed, uncombed, exotic midget amongst fair-haired giants) but I’m sure hot girls have it tough (……..) I mean…. wait…. what am I talking about, screw this, I’ll be damned if I want to be friends with some insanely good-looking model-lady. Fuck that!

See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Why would I want to be friends with a girl I can’t compete with? That’s insane. Might as well buy a dildo and a cat, and call it a day. Why do you think the song ‘Jolene’ exists? NO ONE WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH JOLENE.

Gah, it’s very complicated. To me, it boils down to envy. You see a girl with a trait that you wish you had, and therefore you detest her a little for having that imaginary advantage over you. Primal instincts and all that. Which means, no way am I gonna be friends with that smug bitch, look at her with her [insert desired trait] and her [insert potential second desired trait, but which can be interpreted as a negative as well]. I bet she [something unsavory in relation to her personality] all the time.

So to sum up, a best friend is only your best friend if you know for sure you have different taste in men. So far so good.

REASON 2: A group of female friends is like a freaking coven. Once you’ve proved you won’t ‘jolene’ some girl you’re trying to friend, you need to be accepted by her other friends. Because FACT – She’ll have a network spanning 25 years that involves any girl she ever went to the bathroom with, told a secret, discussed office gossip with, who carried her home drunk and had to listen to her explain the crisis in East Timor while she occasionally puked in her mouth, or who knows her through her family, sports club, bakery, hairdressers, WHATEVER. It’s a big sticky spiderweb of women that, let’s face it, you have no chance of impressing right off the bat.

You’re gonna walk into that nasty spiderweb, face first, and it’s gonna be ugly.

What you’ll normally do is run in with her “regulars”; the ones in her nearest vicinity that get the everyday banter, the daily struggles and crisis. And that’s no joke. If any one of them decides you’re out, it’s game over man, GAME OVER. Sure, she might be the friend of your dreams, and she might not be swayed by whatever her friends say is right… but as women, we tend to seek validation through our inner circles.

If everyone thinks you’re bad company, you automatically become bad company.

And while we’re taking the honest road here, if you’re gunning for the ‘best friend’ position, reason 1 is gonna show its fugly face. Take my best friend off my hands, said no best friend ever.

REASON 3: The implication of friendship is a lot more complicated for women. I do believe that men and women can be friends, but I also agree that not all men and women can be friends. I read this fantastic piece of Jezebel, and it got me thinking of the different expectations that different women have to their guy-friends, and vice versa.

A lot of girls… and I’m going out on a limb here, so bear with me….. wrongly assume they can treat a guy-friend like they would treat their girl-friends. I think this could be the source of many war stories from the “friend zone.” Of course, some guys are just dicks who (as the linked article introduces) ‘girlfriendzone’ a girl and then bitch about it later… we won’t address those…. but I do believe that some of this frustration could be avoided if a girl would realise that penis = instincts and that friendship, meaning the implications of being a friend, is fundamentally different between two men and two women.

I’m gonna be a bit square about this and say that gender roles and interaction between friends of the same gender is somehow related. When I observe two guys at the next table having lunch, or listen to my roommate (who’s a dude) have friends over for dinner, the things they talk about are personal but at an arms length. It’s serious but with a hint of sarcasm or humour. When women have their regular interactions with other women…. I’m tempted to say, it’s a relationship. It’s intense. Up close and personal, dark secrets and personal vendettas lurking at the intellectual edge of any story, any comment.

I’m just gonna say it – women DATE their girl-friends. Food, sleep-overs, intimate conversations, validation, living together, nudity, all that jazz. With really good friends, you’re basically willing to share everything besides your sex. And you will.

Which is also why friendship is so damn hard to achieve with a girl – do I want to share my life with this person? Does she want to share hers with me? SUCH COMPLICATED, SO FRIENDSHIP, MUCH INTENSE.

REASON 4: Bitches be bitches. We simply cannot deny the fact that women can be vicious. Louis C.K. did a very fitting description based on observations of his two kid daughters – at the age of 5, they were manipulative and sociopathic to the point where one would force him to do heinous acts of psychological terror towards the other. “Women are nonviolent, but they will shit inside of your heart.”

Women can really mess you up. If they want to.

Obviously, there are a lot of really nice ladies out there, but jesus christ, sometimes the human race is despicable. For no reason.

Meh. Hard to reason with.

REASON 5: Guys make jokes if you mess up – GIRLS NEVER FORGET. It really is anyone’s worst nightmare to be ostracized by a person or group of people. Sometimes we make mistakes (sometimes we have too much to drink) and it’s usually horrifying or embarrassing on it’s own, without the attention, but if there’re witnesses…. Better practice your poker face cause this is gonna get awkward.

Unless, of course, you happen to hang in the wrong crowd. Watch American teen movies much? Mean Girls, Easy A, probably crueler movies in existence… It tells us the same stories; girls see weakness and prey on it. Unlike guys who’re more into joking you out of an embarrassing situation, some girls seem to take pleasure in tormenting you with your mistakes.

And it seem to hurt more. You’re meant to be on the same team. Where’s the love.

A girl will also periodically bring some atrocious incident up just to make sure you know she hasn’t forgotten. And the last piece of evidence – if she took pictures, THEY’RE GONNA BE ON FACEBOOK. AND WILL STAY THERE. FOREVER.

So there you have it. Good luck.