And the Academy Award for Best Oscar Prediction Goes to...

My older brother, Gordo, his girlfriend, Brittany, and I usually make bets on who will win the Oscars.  We keep a running tally of who guessed correctly for each of the categories, and then the overall winner gets bragging rights until next year. 

It’s usually a friendly competition, but this year the stakes were raised on the Best Director category.

Gordo and Brittany said Fincher (The Social Network).  I said Hooper (The King’s Speech).

Their reasoning for Fincher:  he deserves it.

My reasoning for Hooper: complex equations involving statistical analysis and even one very intense psychic dream about a crazy gypsy woman named LaQuisha who looked at bird droppings before proclaiming that Hooper would be victorious.

Turns out that statistics and LaQuisha’s bird droppings were right.

And I find this extremely funny because Gordo and Brittany prepared for this night by watching all of the major contenders in all of the major categories.  Which means that they spent lots of money going to theaters to better prepare themselves.  They could practically tell you anything you wanted to know about each of the movies.

I, on the other hand, didn’t watch ANY of the movies.  Not a single one.

Now did that make them more qualified to choose than me.  It should have; however, I like statistics.

See “the Academy”—whoever that includes—hardly ever picks best director based on merits.  They pick the movie that they think should win Best Picture and then Best Director automatically follows.

Therefore, since all three of us agreed that The King’s Speech would win the Oscar for Best Picture, it logically followed that we should vote for Hooper.  But noooo.  They didn’t want to listen to me.  They said I was crazy.  Crazy!  Me!

So just before they announced the winner for Best Director, my brother decides to raise the stakes.  Instead of simple bragging rights, he wagered an expensive bottle of alcohol of the winner’s choice—that Fincher would beat out Hooper.

Guess who’s expecting a nice, expensive bottle of German wine?  In fact, the perfect wine to enjoy with celebratory cheesecake.

P.S.—In case you’re interested in the totals.  I won the bragging rights as well.

Tiffany – 17

Gordo – 14

Brittany - 13

Time For Some Victory Cheesecake

The Challenge is officially over.  This will be the last post of the agreed upon month.  With this post my Right Brain will prevail.  Thus, in order to better mock the logical, reasoning side of my rationale, I would actually like to end the challenge with two posts:

Post 1:

and...

Post 2:

Game over, Left Brain.  You lose.

Educational Alcohol at 8 O'clock in the Morning

For the last two days, I’ve been drinking non-stop from 8 a.m. – 6 p.m.  And before you think I’m a drunken alcoholic, reconsider.  This wasn’t just drinking.  This was tasting.  I’m currently enrolled in a wine class at USC, which means that I have to drink for academic purposes.  That’s right – academia.

Now, not only was I “forced” to drink 40 different varieties of wine on Saturday and Sunday, but I also had to learn everything that has ever been learned about wine.

Now, maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t that seem contradictory?

They want me to drink a ton of wine—to the point that I have a nice buzz—then they want me to learn stuff.  I may not be a teacher, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t a good idea.

“Drink this.  And this.  Oh this too.  Now, what type of soil is famous in the Médoc Region of the Loire Valley in France?”

Drinking makes people act like stupid idiots; however, the teachers from the Master Sommelier Guild demanded perfect memory recall.  Then again, they’re Master Sommeliers—they must have built an extreme alcohol immunity.  Unfortunately, I hadn’t built that high a tolerance.  Which made this one of the hardest classes I have ever taken. 

Trying to remember everything about wine from France, Italy, Spain, New Zealand, Australia, South America, South Africa, Portugal, Madeira, and the U.S. along with information on beer, spirits, and wine serving techniques is hard enough sober.  But I had to do it buzzed.

But if you’re wondering, I passed the final exam—but barely.  I’m excited to announce that I’m officially an introductory level sommelier.

And what do you think I did after passing this exam?  A smarter person probably would have gone home and slept or watched the Super Bowl with some friends, but I never claimed to be a smarter person—especially after consuming glass after glass of wine.  I just had to celebrate this momentous occasion.

Now how to celebrate?  I know!  Champagne!  So a fellow classmate and I went to the nearest bar and celebrated by drinking yet another couple glasses of wine (including champagne) and eating victory cheesecake.

Weekend well spent.