Oscars and Escalas

The Cadillac Escala from it's best side: the side

I've actually written two blogs since my last post, but I haven't published them, because the tone was off, which usually means a little self-pity is fighting to be exposed.

Nothing is more boring than self-pity. Nothing. Writers beware.

So here is what I came away with from Oscar night besides the mortifying ending of it all: the Cadillac ads. Cadillac has a new sedan named after its highly successful SUV, the Escalade. The sedan is called Escala. It may be the ugliest car I've ever seen. I was breathless with its ugliness.
Those lights, front and back, look like dragon eyes. The back of the car looks like somebody's fat butt. I couldn't stop yammering about it, which was okay, because Tom can't hear me anyway.

And there's so much to yammer about on Oscar night: should the men wear Armani or Tom Ford? (I vote Tom Ford). Who was the best dressed? (I vote Nicole Kidman, but Emma Stone and others looked fabulous as well) Who looked disappointing? (Scarlett Johansson and Charlize Theron, who both know better, wore similar sacks that added twenty pounds to their figures, although Theron wore the most spectacular earrings. Why did she put her hair in a pony tail? What is this, 1955?) Did we like Jimmy Kimmel as a host? (Yes). Did we think Justin Timberlake was just a little manic on the runway? (Yes, he was popping in and out everywhere, but the opening number was sensational). Was Denzel Washington disappointed? (Yes). Do we ever get tired of seeing Meryl Streep on the front row? (No). Did I know anything about Ryan Gosling before I googled him on Oscar night? (No. He's from Canada, you know).

It's a good thing Nasty Louise doesn't tweet.

(But she blogs!)