Super excited for today; I’ve been planning it for quite some time. It’s Oscar Sunday! And we’re having a party! Can four guests be considered a party? Maybe it’s technically a get-together. Still, it’s the first time Mike and I are having people over in our apartment.
The whole day is planned, obviously. I love a good itinerary. Rich and Tara arrive around 12. We sit at the apartment for a bit and fill out our oscar ballots for this evening. Then we head to the beach. I’ve planned a beach workout for me and Tara. She agreed to do it earlier this week but now she’s full of excuses. “I don’t feel competitive today.” Too bad. I figure Rich will surf but he didn’t bring anything so he decides to workout with us. Mike has reluctantly agreed to keep the time and take pictures. On my beach runs, I’ve been looking for a good beach spot. It’s a little further to the right once we arrive, but worth the walk. Once settled, we get right to it, doing one-minute intervals of different exercises. It’s a 10 minute workout. After one time through I’m feeling OK, but after the second time through we’re all dead. Good workout.
We all relax and eat lunch. I packed sandwiches made-to-order, sun chips, and bottles of water. I text Rich earlier in the week to see what he wanted. Ham or turkey, mayo, spicy mustard or honey mustard, pickle or no pickle. “Oh man! Turkey, mayo and spicy mustard. No pickle please. :)” I love that Rich seems as excited as me about placing a lunch order.
I had hoped we could walk around Abbot Kinney or Main Street and get some margaritas, but the day is getting away from us. We might have to just go back to the apartment to make it in time for the Oscars. “We have time for margaritas!” Tara is suddenly full of renewed energy. I’m not one to turn down a margarita, so we collect our things and head back. Not sure exactly where we should go, when we pass James Beach Bar and Grill, and it’s open! Usually they don’t open until 6pm, but they must be open for lunch on the weekends. We still have to go back to the apartment to get our wallets. Ted Danson rides by on his bike and Tara spots him. “I’m pretty sure that was Ted Danson.” So mad I didn’t see him. Ted Danson is the man.
We sit at the bar and order our drinks. Troy and Jason arrive shortly after and grab a couple beers. Of course, I’m drinking faster than everyone else. Margaritas are so good. I need to pace myself, when Tara interrupts my thoughts. “Wanna chug this and get another one?” You’re crazy. And awesome. Yes. We do. Our bartender is cool. Kyle. He’s not from Philly but he lived there for a while. “Are you guys just visiting?” Nope. We’re here to stay, Kyle.
Mike is looking at the time. “The Oscars are about to start.” Crap. We need to get back. Tara, you’re ruining my itinerary! (In a good way.) I hurry back ahead of the group. Fortunately, the show doesn’t really start for another hour with all the red carpet stuff beforehand. Hand out some beers for the guys and wine for me and Tara, then get to it on appetizers. First, a black bean and corn salsa I made yesterday. Mom gave me the recipe. It’s fresh and delicious. I didn’t want to make guacamole ahead of time so after I put out the salsa I make a big batch of guac. Spicy, chunky, spot-on.
I can relax a bit before the next wave of food so I sit down and enjoy the show. The Oscars are so much fun to watch. Most of the awards are predictable, but it’s always fun to see what everyone is wearing, and hopefully there’s some good speeches.
After Billy Crystal’s introduction, I make the last batch of apps. Every year for Christmas Mom makes these sausage and party rye snacks. They’re horrible for you, and so good. I missed out on them this past year, and have been craving them, so I made them during the week. All I have to do is pop them in the oven and we’re good to go.
The Artist wins Best Picture and I’m OK with that – at least Hugo didn’t win. Since we all filled out ballots, we have a prize for the winner. I couldn’t figure out what the prize should be so I asked Mike. “Lindsay, don’t get anything really good.” I think he’s saying this because he doesn’t want me to spend a lot of money, but that’s not his reason at all. “I’m going to win, so I don’t want to you get something nice if I’m just going to get it.” Oh my god, you are so cocky! “I win every year. I’m going to win.” I hate him. I know I won’t win because I always vote with my heart and not with my head. But maybe somebody else will win. I end up getting a bottle of Lemoncello in honor of George Clooney, because he’s a fan of it, and a couple packages of movie popcorn. Put some ribbon on them and set them up all nice for the winner, and Mike wins. By a lot. Whatever.