Eh, Monday. It feels like I was here only five minutes ago. So, the weekend was good- girly shopping and a party on Saturday; a two hour training ride Sunday followed by the annual Mocking of the Oscars on Sunday night. Not bad overall.

I'm seriously busy today, but it seems that every online service I use at work is down, so I'm getting nowhere fast. I would love to be at home right now, sitting on the back porch with a good book (specifically Grand Ambition which I'm loving). But no, I'm in the blandest, beigest office on earth, and every time I pass a window I want to press my nose up against it and whimper like a puppy, it's that pretty out. Okay, onward to the lessons for today.

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Lesson #35 on How To Make an Ass of Yourself.

I went to a party at Kate and Justin's Saturday to celebrate Justin's birthday. His bandmate, Ethan, was there and for some reason, I again managed to get into some sort of good natured, but still lunging-across-the-coffee-table, debate with him. The last time, I think the debate involved music and really, who's the expert? Not me. Hilarious.

Saturday night's debate started when Ethan threw down the Fightin' Words Gauntlet by criticizing my delivery of an Office Space quote. He was probably right, but who does that? I got the words right but my delivery is off? What. And also, Ever.

So we bickered in a good natured way for a bit and I saw that I was losing, so I did the unthinkable. I played my only badass card. Just threw it out there with no real thought to the consequences. I told him I could take him down (because physical threats are clearly the mature way to win an argument) and, more specifically, I RACE MOUNTAIN BIKES. AND I'M A GIRL. AND, I CAN KICK YOUR ASS IN MOUNTAIN BIKING! HAHA HA. (Really, it sounds cool, right? Can you see where this is going?)

Um, his face lit up. Oh damn. He said "You race mountain bikes? I used to do that! I rode on the NORBA* circuit as a junior rider!" Uh and oh. And damn. I should mention that at this point my husband was dying with laughter and taunted me about it well into the next day. What followed was a fun (for Ethan, Kenny and I) bike-filled conversation that bored the pants off the rest of the room, which diverted attention away from the personal assery I had created.

So, lesson: if you're pretty good at something, be careful who you brag about it to. Or, rather, just don't brag at all. Mr. NORBA Junior circuit can ride circles around my beginner ass and there's no denying it. It was like bragging to a pastry chef about a cake you made from a mix. Nobody needs that.

So Ethan, you win this one, but you know I'm gearing up for the next. How much do you know about horses? Because I used to ride and...never mind.

*For the non-bikey amongst us, NORBA stands for National Off-Road Bicycle Association. Big stuff in the mountain bike world.

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Lesson #89 on How To Be a Complete Asshole.

We have this weird alcoholic neighbor who lives a few houses down. She's generally friendly in a slightly creepy way, and mostly we exchange polite hellos and try to avoid her. Yesterday, Kenny and I set out for our mountain bike ride and she was out front, sitting on her porch. As we rode by her she sniped "You know, you're not going to be able to do that ONCE THE BABIES COME!"

Kenny and I looked at each other, like "The hell?" Where the hell did that come from? Was she envious? Was she just in a bad mood and feeling spiteful? Did we look too happy or something? Good forbid we should want to have some fun on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. What a bitch.

And don't even get me started on the baby pressure. I get enough of it from my family and my in-laws. My own mother is the worst offender. I was recently telling her about my job-seeking woes and how I feel like my life's on hold while I look for a decent job. Her solution? Maybe I should just stop waiting and have a baby.

I guess it doesn't occur to anyone that I'm nowhere near ready to be a mother? Not ready emotionally and certainly not ready financially. Lesson: Don't ever taunt people for not instantly popping out the kids. It's rude and makes you look like an asshole.

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The Oscars.

Every year I get excited about watching the Academy Awards show and the excitement lasts about 35 minutes into the program. Once they start doing the boring montage sequences and giving out awards for "Best Sound Editing", I start to get bored. But, I still watch, partly so I can gawp at the outfits, both good and bad, and partly because I've got a little bit of starfuckness in my soul. I like to watch the shiny people do their thing and I'm not (too) ashamed to admit it.

There's also one more reason I watch, and that's because every now and then, you get to witness a moment of pure and genuine joy. Adrien Brody provided that moment this year and I'm happily jumping on the "I Heart Adrien Brody" bandwagon. I haven't seen The Pianist yet, but I loved him in Summer of Sam and I'm glad he's getting some recognition. Also, he spells his name the right way.

As for the rest of the show, I have the usual mixed feelings. I thought Steve Martin was pretty funny and he certainly made things more interesting than Whoopi Goldberg ever did. I'm happy as a clam that Gangs of New York didn't win best picture and I'm annoyed that Eminem won best song because he's a fake-ass little punk.

I thought Queen Latifah looked beautiful, though I wasn't crazy about the dress. I thought Renee Zellwegger's dress was beautiful, but I'm not crazy about her. I thought Cameron Diaz really should've done something about her hair. Nicole Kidman's dress was lovely but black is too severe on her; she needs color.

Kate Hudson, Kathy Bates, Susan Sarandon, and Adrien Brody all looked great. Jennifer Lopez, Julianne Moore, Ben Affleck and Calista Flockhart looked dreadful. Okay, now I'm bored even talking about it, so if you want to see the outfits for yourself, go to the Yahoo Photo Galleries. Or, you could read Melissa's hilarious recap.

Okay, I'm going to stop and go do some work now or something.

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