Hooray for Hollywood...

Tomorrow is donut day: an allowance of one weekly treat/ jail break/ wallowing in the dark side, whatever, Friday. All things fried are fair game. Sometimes I do not stray off the wholly foods path. Other times, I'm little 'Elvis' face first in bacon grease. Lately, I've been on the party carousel: pizzas, chocolate cake, Amy's orange cake, breakfast eggs ahoy, a jean dway (fried sesame ball filled with sweet black or yellow bean paste) here and a jean dway, slobber, there...it feels soooo good to be channeling Bourdain every now and then. Enough of the, uh, dribble. Onto the business of predictions. In gambling terms, they're known as 'futures.' On Sunday, the immediate future, the 83rd Academy Awards will be distributed. The following is for entertainment purposes only:

Best Picture...it's a toss up between The King, and the shallow boy genius. Age always trumps youth...long live the King.

Best Actor...King Colin Firth.

Best Actress...interesting category. Annette Bening should have won for 'Being Julia.' Natalie Portman is the lead in the 'sexy' pic this year. Jennifer Lawrence as Ree in Winter's Bone towered over everyone. When they crack the envelope it's Natalie Portman because Hollywood forgives Queen Amidala.

Best Supporting Actor...John Hawkes (Deadwood fame) was sensational in Winter's Bone. However, the King's man will win, Geoffrey Rush.

Best Supporting Actress...Hailee Steinfeld is only 13 years old. And gets my vote. But, Melissa Leo from the Fighter ko's everyone.

Best Director...second verse same as the first: King vs shallow boy genius.
The hardware goes to Tom Hopper, as the Brits sack Hollywood and fly gleefully off into the night. Pass the plate of donuts please, and will the lovely Helena Bonham Carter ever feel the sweepstakes love?

'Take a cha-cha-cha-chance...'

1. Thank the goddess! No rain on the horizon, at least for awhile. I scrambled out the door, hopped onto my trusty steed, Topper, and rode lickety split to my favorite cafe (a secret location) for a couple of homemade killer donut holes and a pumpkin spice donut. I ate both donut holes gleefully on the ride back to the apartment, sugar grains spilling all over the front of my clothes. I plated the donut on the festive 'Graceland' dish that my sister brought back from Memphis and dove into the sugar product the way, well, the King would have at it: face first. Mmmm. The server at the cafe said when she saw me approaching this morning, she nervously looked over her shoulder at the fry cook to make sure there was another batch of donuts behind the counter. Some people have neighborhood bars where everyone knows your name...I, on the other hand have...

2. Lara Logan. The CBS Chief Foreign Affairs and war correspondent. What happened to her was an outrage. This is not a Muslim or Middle Eastern problem; this is a gender issue which crosses all cultures, where violence and humiliation of women is learned and used to control and reinforce submission. Female journalists are always at risk in non-western countries, or even in male locker rooms. But they continue to strap on the gear because that's their job. Revolutions and war come and go. A correspondent on NPR talked about covering a protest over seas when she felt someone touching her inappropriately; when the correspondent turned around she discovered it was a 10 year old boy. When the 10 year old boys of the world are taught to respect women, not just their mothers or their sisters, then we can talk r-e-v-o-l-u-t-i-o-n.

3. February is a tough month. Rosie Kim Chang. Bett Garrison. Cliff Kirst. We bid you all adieu.

'Number 9, number 9, number 9...'

1. The White album. Beatles. They had a stunning revolution in Egypt while the whole world was watching. 18 tumultuous days amidst a sea of tanks, led by techno savvy civilian guerrillas exploiting the underground Internet and media, out maneuvering and out flanking Mubarack's men by planting false information, lifting their voices and their shoes in disgust (think: flipping the bird) over and over again until the longest reigning dictator in the Arab world capitulated. The will of the people rose up and took back their land sending shock waves throughout the Middle East. Exit stage left Mubarack. Enter stage right: the Military. While the dust settles, nervous coughs can be heard from Washington because with the military one never knows exactly what one will get.

2. Friday Night Lights bowed out on Wednesday. One of the best 5 year dramas to ever hit the tube. If you tuned in and watched you recognized how different or how familiar the life themes resonated. And you understood, in a poignant way, when two of the characters clinked beer bottles together and said towards the end of the last show, 'Texas forever.' But maybe not. For to understand that toast, is to have lived and belonged to a place that elicits a particular cultural pride that is only distinguishable to inhabitants, ie. the kamaaina (hawaiian word for child of the land)...'Texas forever,' rocked my world. You got it right, Peter Berg (creator, writer and producer of Friday Night Lights).

3. Natalie Portman. At the SAGS walking on the arm of my ex-girlfriends' bro (hello John) to receive her best actress award. Hmmm. Black Swan is most def the sexy film that everyone in H'wood is swooning over, but, I think the best acting was done by Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's Bone. Natalie Portman broke the mold in Luc Besson's, 'The Professional.' As Mathilda opposite the great Jean Reno she was spectacular and leaves the future Nina (Black Swan) in the dust.

And the winner is...

1. Yesterday, Punxsutawney Phil was roused from Gobbler's Knob for the traditional question. Chicago citizens trapped in their homes, their cars, metallic glaciers, abandoned along lake shore drive, channel surfed to the broadcast dawn event. 6,000 frosty witnesses perked up when Phil looking more rotund (psst, tip for Phil: get with the national anti-obesity program) than previous sightings, sniffed the air, ignored the chanting crowd, and squinted into the bright frigid morning light for anyone holding a donut. His handlers in silly top hats stroked his head. 'Say something Phil,' some frat guys yelled. 'Uh,ok. Powdered or glazed,' Phil shot back. 'Whaat?' some woman up front cried. The President (not to be confused with El Presidente) of the Punxsutawney Phil Inner Circle asked for silence. Phil poked his nose up even further in the air, 'I smell cheese,' he whined. On a roll now and continuing the hot thread, Phil squeaked, 'the Packers win the Superbowl.' A voice from the back of the crowd, yelled, 'this is cruelty to animals, get an effing robotic gopher.' One of Phil's handler's muttered, 'GDamn PETA's here, Phil, get on with it.' 'D-o-n-u-t-s,' spelled Phil in a balloon over his head. The President cleared his throat, 'Umm, Punxsutawney Phil in 2011, does not see his shadow.' Chicago citizens watching on TV began weeping happy tears. 'And, furthermore,' the President of Punxsutawney, said, 'Phil has declared that our Steelers will prevail on Sunday.' The frozen thrill seekers roared. Phil's teeth chattered noisily, 'Packers win. Packers win.' Grumpily turning his back on the crowd, Phil broke wind, and headed back into his burrow.

2. If you are a believer in Karma, and I am, than you know that this is Aaron Rodgers time. The Packers take the Lombardi trophy back to Green Bay on Sunday. It's two great NFL franchises, playing in Jerry's world, where 'the stars at night, are big and bright,'...