ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-NINE.

I love the Oscars. I love the films and the glitz and the glamor of people wearing stunning gowns and men reminding me why my standards for my future significant other are way, way too high. And all of this, all of this love lasts about an hour.

Because while I love the films (Go Hurt Locker!) and the glitz and the glamor, the Oscars, should you be brave enough or a victim of too much coffee, take too long. The strategically placed awards in the beginning - supporting actors, animated films. The tribute montages. Although, I will say I was a fan of the John Hughes tribute. And the color of Molly Ringwald's dress. Of course, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin are hilariously sharp. After while though, one finds themselves starring at the stage and trying to pick out what's fantastic about it. Or not so fantastic about it. Or if you're like me, you're wondering if you've really been staring at the same place on the stage for the last hour. Or that curtain of lamps - I can't decide if I really like it or not. I do wish that they'd slow down the cutaways.

But I love the Oscars. I love the films. And Penelope, girl, you were my favorite of the night - no matter what what's-her-face from E! and Miss J say.

So how's your Oscar night?