Unless you love walking miles in snow and slush, February usually has a bad rap. But at the end of the tunnel there is a gleaming, shimmering light that is a reminder that there is, in fact, good in this world. That’s right: award show season.
Seriously. What is more uplifting than watching a group of bajillionaires wear bajillion dollar outfits and applaud each other while we mere mortals sit at home in our pajamas wishing we could be as wonderful? Nothing, I tell you. Absolutely nothing.
To quote some chick that never won an Oscar, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
Fashion: Let’s make one thing clear: Joan Rivers is my spirit animal. She’s the sassier, more plastic surgery-laden version of Betty White - a woman after my own heart. It does the soul good to see that, in a society where bullying is a serious and prevalent issue, we can ridicule every fiber of thread that comes into contact with a celebrity’s body. By comparing each star based on their outward appearance, we are teaching our youth important lessons. First, if you dislike someone, you should viciously tear her down and judge her. Second, not looking beautiful is the worst sin a lady can commit. Award show season gives us a great opportunity to prove appearance really is the only thing that matters. We all need a little reminder that the only way to be loved is to have a makeup and hair team and designer dress, and, even then, there’s no guarantee we won’t be judged.
Celebrities: I’m honestly disgusted we don’t give celebrities more awards. The fact that these stars often go to the hospital for dehydration or exhaustion is proof their jobs are far more difficult than any teacher, lawyer or surgeon. These poor creatures work so hard to entertain us they forget to drink water and sleep! These messiahs sacrifice their own health for our sake. The best thing about celebrities, though, is that I am convinced I could be one if I tried hard enough. All those E! and MTV stars showed me that I am a sparkling little snowflake of special and all I need to do to become a celebrity is release a sex tape, become a teen mom or make a fool of myself on national TV. Since I already make a fool of myself daily, I’m halfway there. Score.
The award show: In the midst of national debt, it can be hard to focus on what is really important: fabulous celebrities. It’s nice to forget about silly things like the Arab-Israeli conflict or child soldiers in the Congo and, instead, watch famous people congratulate each other for being famous. These stars have taught me the valuable lesson when life hands you wealth, good looks and mediocre talent, you flaunt it to the world. Celebrities are so humble and deserving. We should throw them more parties to congratulate them for being famous and having the ability to at least try to pretend they don’t want to murder the person who won instead of them (— we’re looking at you, Taylor Swift, when Adele won the Golden Globe for best original song).
Reality check: I know most of us are a little embarrassed by our celebrity addiction. I want to pretend that I am above caring about Amy Poehler and Will Arnett's divorce, but the reality is I’ve started to wonder how I can find love if these beautiful celebrities can’t. However, I’ve discovered there are some really awesome, non-celebrity people in the world. Shocking, I know. For example, former sex slave Somaly Mam started an orphanage for girls who were forced into prostitution, and American educator Salman Khan created Khan Academy, a website full of world-class lectures in the hope that every child has access to a world-class education. But I’ll care more when they win a Grammy.
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