Ever since I was in Drama Club in junior high, I've watched the Oscars with big dreams of being there myself someday. Well, me and Clare. At first I thought I'd go as an actor. I'd thank my drama teacher, Jeff Grove and my mom for making me audition for Fiddler on the Roof in 8th grade. It was my first community theater performance. And now that's changed. It'll be as a writer or director. But my speech hasn't changed much.
So I like to quietly celebrate that dream year after year at home by myself. No big parties. I tried that. It didn't work. I wanted to kick my friends in the head for talking during Halle Berry's speech. I know they're just having fun, but with all due respect. So, it's just gonna be me, my remote control and Pork Chop, my cat. Mark can still brave the Sad Loud Oscar Party and the drunken fun that they have over Oscar speeches and bad dresses. But for me, it's a sacred show. I take it pretty seriously. I don't know, it's just me. But whatever, I don't care.