Not-So-Live Blogging of the Golden Globes.

But Mary just called me and demanded a post about it, so I guess I must oblige. Currently, Steven Spielberg is getting the Award of Stultifying Boredom Lifetime Achievement Award and is rambling about toy trains and all of his friends. He isn't doing a very good job of "landing" this. (Yes, I was paying attention at church today.) I am reminded of the feeling you get when you're talking to your parents' friends and they're talking about people you don't know and stuff that you don't care about that happened before you were born and you have to look interested. Ugh.

(Colleen just went, "I'm so glad he won.")

Um, it's been pretty predictable so far. Heath Ledger won, John Adams has won for like everything, and I'm pretty sure Robert Downey, Jr. is drunk or high or both. Oh, Robert. Fall off the wagon, did we?

OOOOH EMMA THOMPSON. I LOVE YOU. So, so much. Let's see what she's presenting, shall we?

Best Director. I'm guessing Slumdog Millionaire. I'm pulling for Revolutionary Road, though, because I'm a slut for Titanic 2. Even though I haven't seen it. I haven't seen anything. The only movie this season I've seen is Doubt, and while I adored it (GO SEE IT), it's not winning anything.

Okay. Commercial. I'm going to go now.