What was with the Beyonce concert? One song, okay. Two songs, someone else went AWOL. But three songs????

Hilary Swank has appreciated with age–perhaps mine. I liked her a lot better this Oscar than the last. Wonder how the lovely Mrs. Beatty feels about being beaten a second time. Hilary’s dress was amazing, and her posture–makes me want to walk around with books on my head.

Loved that Clint won. Loved that Marty didn’t. Sorry, I just never ‘got’ the short Italian thing.

Chris Rock–I was so looking forward to him. And I was so–not quite yawn. But definitely not what I was hoping for. What was I hoping for? The LATimes profile today made it sound like this was a yeoman’s job for him–and I guess that’s what it was.

And what the hell was the Fockers thing at the end about? Were Babs and Dusty supposed to be funny? ironic? cute? They were the surprise presenters, I suppose. And Julia. Probably kept them a secret because they couldn’t count on them showing up.

Speaking of necessary dental work: Jeremy Irons needs to get his teeth capped, or something. Or cleaned. And stop smoking. Or something.

So the 77th is now over, and a strange mishmash of high and low it was. Beyonce and Yo Yo Ma. Carlos Santana and Antonio Banderas. Chris Rock and Annette Benning.

I’ma gonna bed….