Perhaps it was Thing 1 and Thing 2 in my purse. Perhaps it was my sister’s Canada mitts. Perhaps it just was.
This morning, my sister and I were ushered to second row seats at Oprah’s After Oscar Party in the Kodak Theatre. Apparently we were seated where Justin Timberlake sat at last night’s Academy Awards. I didn’t lick the cushion, but if it were Colin Firth’s seat, who knows how low I would’ve stooped.
Just before the taping commenced, one of the producers asked if we’d go on stage to dance and get the crowd going. So, together with her and fifteen other women, we ran up those flashy Oscar stairs and danced with wild abandon to the Black Eyed Peas. Thankfully, the audience joined in, and I didn’t fall and break a hip. After ten minutes of dancing, we returned to our seats, many of us in need of a defibrillator.
The show started, revealing a set that changed colour. Within moments, Oprah was joined by three men from The King’s Speech: the dapper and funny and handsome and witty and intelligent Colin Firth, the charming Geoffrey Rush, and the impressive Tom Hooper, winner of the Oscar for Best Director.
Although we weren’t quite upgraded to Firth’s lap, we were close enough to chat with Oprah and her guests during commercial breaks. During one such casual moment, a woman yelled, “We love you, Colin!” To which I added, “It is a truth universally acknowledged…” I got a smile and a nod. The man knows the opening of Pride and Prejudice.
Anne Hathaway, the youngest Oscar host ever, floated out later, followed by Melissa Leo, winner of the Best Supporting Actress for her role in The Fighter. During another commercial break, I held up my sister’s Canadian mitts and invited Oprah to Canada. She said, “I’m coming.” It’s easy to get someone’s attention when they’re less than twenty feet away.
The YouTube sensation, Staten Island’s PS 22 choir, performed Katy Perry’s Firework with a full orchestra, and before long Katy Perry herself joined them, backlit by actual fireworks inside the Kodak Theatre.
It was a party. We didn’t get swag and – although my husband told me not to come home unless Oprah gave me a new car – we’re leaving tomorrow. Mr. Darcy may not be with me, but at least I spoke to him.
Thanks for following our adventure in Hollywood. See you in Canada, eh?