Forge On

The Oscars have come and gone and it’s March.  How can this be?  I walked into the grocery the other day and St. Paddy’s day everything is ready for purchase!  I am sure that’s exactly how Saint Patrick wanted to be remembered every year.  He wanted the masses to drink until they couldn’t speak and then proceed to eat corned beef and cabbage like 3 year olds on qualudes.  I guess if that’s how people commemorated my death, I wouldn’t be that upset.  I would, however, send apology cards to every Irish bar across the world.  Sorry I’m not sorry.

I cannot express in words how grateful I am that awards season has come to an end.  A thrilling end, might I add.  Just goes to show you that even after months of meticulous planning, perfection is still left to be desired.  Turns out, Hollywood has its flaws.  (Insert a collection of gasps here)  I love how everyone tried to blame two old people as if it was their fault.  I can just hear Fay Dunaway collapsing in a closet somewhere screaming, “No more red envelopes!!!!!”.  I suppose some critical thinking/reading would have helped, but the thing we all have to realize is mistakes happen.  They always have and they always will.  As Bender from Breakfast Club reminds us, “Screws fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place.”

I think it was good for everyone and even a humbling experience for some.  Definitely not the guy  (hate to acknowledge his name, but it’s Fred Berger who I shall call hotdog from here on out) who knew what had happened and continued on with his acceptance speech like a greedy sack of golden garbage but maybe for the accountants who found their job to be so mindless, they were more focused on social media than being present.  Just minutes before LaLaLand was mistakenly announced as Best Picture, one of the accountants had tweeted a picture of Emma Stone.  He was so enthralled by the actress who won an Oscar for playing an actress that he wanted her to win twice.  That’s my theory.  That tweet has since been deleted.  Drama, drama, drama.

The blame game has since ensued and quite honestly, it’s a ridiculous, albeit worthless witch hunt.  Who cares?  While I think it’s weird it took the time between announcing the “winner” and 3 speeches to finally correct the situation, the fact is no one died.  It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world either.  I do hate that Moonlight’s glory was overshadowed by the conundrum but all of the trophies are in the right hands now…technically.  But let’s be honest, the true winner was Gary from Chicago.

We can’t waste our time figuring out where to place blame.  It resolves nothing.  It doesn’t fix the problem and it certainly can’t erase the past.  I did that when my father died, I did that when my last relationship ended and I do it every time I get a rejection letter about my book.  We all do.  We all ask why and we want answers.  Why me?  It’s an easy question to ask.  Well, why not?  If it’s not you, it’s somebody else.  You can dwell, you can analyze, you can lament and you can regret.  None of these things will ever change what actually happened.  The only place to go is forward.

Bottom line is, shit happens.  It’s not if, it’s when.  Life isn’t a fairytale.  If fairytales were accurate, Sleeping Beauty would still be sleeping because Prince Charming would have gotten distracted by an Xbox game or a fantasy draft and never have made it to the castle.  This isn’t pessimism, it’s realism.  Roll with the punches.  Don’t worry so much about how you got somewhere.  Focus your energy on where you’re going to go from here.  You can absolutely learn from your past but there’s no use in obsessing over it.  You’re already here.  Just breathe and forge on.  Be a warrior.