The Oscars red carpet

I walked on it the other day. Yes ma'am. It's pretty soft. Very carpety. I thought it would be more like a thin fabric, instead it has real texture, like 1/4 of an inch hair length. You could feel the depth, even from underneath a sea of cellophane. It looked like a freaking serial killer's dungeon in fact, every single Oscar was being suffocated. Exhibit A.

It was pretty clear from the get go that something was up. If you didn't know better you would almost say that a bunch of celebrities were about to go through. The whole lot in front of the building was blooming with pop up sheds, eight wheelers and satellite dishes the size of my dining room table, like a huge film production was seconds away from shooting the most expensive scene in movie history. The valet parking at the mall had been shielded with a velvety huge red curtain and to find a spot for our car we had to go all the way down to the center of the earth to parking level 5 where a Balrog was luckily pulling out so we could take his place.

I was curious to see what goes on around the area a couple of days before the event. It's my first Oscars in LA you know. I've had a bunch of firsts in the past year but this one is like EPIC. I've grown up watching the Oscars from 2 - 6 am on a school night by myself, every year, it was the closest I could get to Hollywood on the other freaking side of the world. Then when you live here you want to play it cool and pretend like you're used to this stuff, that you see it everyday. This is what Angelenos do and it's a pretty contagious behavior. I was like that, for a split second, riding the escalator to the Kodak theater and then I set foot on the carpet and it was MAGIC. I can't even explain the rush I felt but maybe some can understand. It was like being sprinkled with fairy dust and then finally hitting your happy thought and start flying. But taking off was hard, from street level it basically looks like a county fair.

It is fascinating as kind of a mystery, like a very elegant woman who doesn't show too much of herself. And overall very mystic. Happy and sad at the same time. Especially when I climbed up the Hollywood and Highland passageway and I had the full disclosure on the lady parts.

It was enthralling to see what they were doing down there, like being privy to some kind of ritual. They were probably briefing people that will direct the flow tomorrow, maybe hypnotizing a bunch of bystanders into joining Scientology, I don't really know. But all the same it was painstakingly hard to watch. Me, me, me. Me too! I was screaming while falling off the ledge and out of the cruel, ephemeral bubble that I like to call fucking blind ambition. No briefing, no stroll, no nothing for me. So I snapped a pretty picture of the pretty view and took off to Sephora where I have drowned my sorrows in a gallon of tinted moisturizer.

The pretty view!

By the way I got one of the employees of Sephora practically admit that they close the store at 2 pm on Oscar day and then just stay in there to watch the street go on fire. An this is their position from the hair products section. A little black uniform suits me, ya think?!

At the end of the day I came home to my cozy gas-less stove and stuffed myself with 300 gr (that's 0.66 lbs for those of you who still like to defy logic) of Gelson's roasted chicken and some left over salad. Which was supposed to be a healthy kind of meal and instead took me 48 hours to digest considering I gulped down quantities that would make a truck driver blush.

This is just half of the chicken by the way.