I don't have many traditions. I barely have any routines. I've spent the past year and a half trying to formulate a schedule that works for the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants life that freelancing brings about, but even that hasn't stuck. Yet, against all odds, I made a decision last month that I've somehow stuck to.
I am going to become an Oscars party person.
I think there's a common ground between a group of friends live-tweeting an awards show and rolling up with a fur stole and long cigarette and pretending like you're an oldey-time celebrity when, really, you burnt all of the bagel dogs and everyone is annoyed with the accent you're still holding up.
I wanted to make an Oscars party for the current era. A shebang to rememember! A PINTEREST PARTY.
I started on my journey, and covered the main five essentials in a story I wrote for Racked. The truth is, since I've written that, I've gone above and beyond. The price tally of this party is, uh, twice what I made for writing about it (whoops), I have pounds of gummy bears being shipped to my apartment as we speak, and I feel like i'm thisclose to figuring out how to throw a real, adult, Instagrammable, wonderful, beautiful, cute, delicious party. I mean, look at these Mendl's cakes from The Grand Budapest Hotel?! I made them! Sure, I had to deep-google "Mendl's Cake Recipe" about nine thousand times to perfect them, but still! I'm so proud. They're like kid art -- deep down you know it looks like shit, but you still can't help but beam.
Check the story out right here. Keep me (and Emma Stone) in your prayers this Sunday evening, mmk? I'll be here stuffing chocolate pudding inside Mendl's cake balls against all odds.