In few days, on 25 February, there will be a red carpet laid in front of the Kodak Theatre and the world famous film celebrities will walk in through the blinding flashlights of hungry paparazzi. Gabriel and me have decided that we would give it a miss this year as we’re extremely busy preparing our holiday in Oz (due next month). Otherwise we would go, we’re not some sort of self-absorbed allenesque farts who ostentatiously enjoy staying behind. While, of course, in no case we’re trying to imply that Woody is.

Where was I? Oh, yes. So the Oscars are to be given away. The Academy shortlisted number of hopefuls (so called nominees) who still have a chance and by the end of the week we get to know who prayed the best.

However, what if we guessed how it’s going to be before it’s going to be? Let’s predict the winners of ten most important categories. And — so you can all laugh out loud next Monday — let me take a guess first:

Best Picture: Little Miss Sunshine
Best Direction: Alejandro González Iñárritu (Babel)
Best Actor: Peter O’Toole (Venus)
Best Actress: Helen Mirren (The Queen)
Best Supporting Actor: Djimon Hounsou (Blood Diamond)
Best Supporting Actress: Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Best Animated Movie: Happy Feet
Best Foreign Language Movie: Pan’s Labyrinth
Best Adapted Screenplay: The Departed
Best Original Screenplay: Pan’s Labyrinth

Now, let’s see. I hope I won’t have to delete this post once my score turns out to be 0/10.

I’m eager to see your qualified shots. You can find the list of hopefuls here. Go ahead, it’s your turn.

Yes, it must have happened. We have expected it. Here it is. And what did it do to us?

Both authors of this web turned thirty within last couple of months. Threw few parties as expected to celebrate making it into respectable adults and… Has anything changed? Speaking of myself, absolutely nothing has changed. I still feel one day like being twelve and the next like being seventeen. And oscillating between the two extremes. It’s funny.

Or, maybe there is few things that I’ve noticed. But rather gradually, not suddenly or unexpectedly.

I noticed I have friends who are older. Considerably older. They are real old farts. There is some who are about sixty, and even one who’s well over eighty. I couldn’t imagine having friends even in my father’s age some five years ago. Now I find it obvious. They think the same, they do the same, we have something in common, we’re friends. Age does not matter anymore. At all.

I noticed I’m accepted. It must have something to do with grey hair and starting wrinkles, I have no better explanation. I get called “sir” instead of a “young man”. Am I not young anymore? I was told for years that life was just starting at thirty.

With acceptability, there’s also responsibility. Out of the blue, it’s not surprise that I’m in charge of others. Scratching my greying hair, I am to decide what they’re gonna do. I should be responsible (and I am trying my best to be, of course).

And I’m not punk anymore (not that I ever was). I’m stoic, self-composed and laid-back. Without making an effort to render this post too humorous, sometimes — quite incidentally — I happen to be. It seems that my judgements have real ground underneath. Some of them, at least. One or two I can recall… I am no longer eager to “go south” as I used to in my late teens, now I am south enough and I am to go north again. The tide is slowly turning.

And one thing that alone makes me sure I’m grown? I don’t feel like spending nights out anymore. I can’t care less. If I don’t feel like going somewhere, I don’t go, even if friends go. I don’t care. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t see something or if I miss something. I prioritise.

Looking at the lines above, it seems that there is actually far more to being thirty than I expected. And that is still not all. I double-checked with my brother in London, and he also gets some regular reminders: gas & electricity bills, rent/mortgage repayments, and everybody’s favourite taxes to pay. These are the annoying details, and one has to get used to them. If one cannot get one’s own way, one must adjust to the inevitable…

But there are bright moments, too. Take parenthood. One sees a baby grow (if one has one, I might add). Enjoys teaching and learning together. Motivating. Exploring. Conquering. Experiencing. That can be the real joy of thirties, I guess.

So after all, there is a lot to be in one’s thirties. Or maybe (almost) nothing, if one chooses so.

Since for those who entered their thirties and don’t feel ready yet, there’s a cheap trick: it only takes a clean shave and a short haircut to look ten years younger. It won’t fool the taxman, but it might be just enough to start a conversation with that super-cool teen who just moved next door.

Steve Jobs in his thoughts on music wrote that Apple would embrace DRM-free music in a heartbeat. On the other hand, as it appears to me, he doesn’t see current course as a big problem for customers either:

It’s hard to believe that just 3% of the music on the average iPod is enough to lock users into buying only iPods in the future. And since 97% of the music on the average iPod was not purchased from the iTunes store, iPod users are clearly not locked into the iTunes store to acquire their music.

Well, this is all nice, but somehow, I just can’t buy this argument. Those 3% (or whatever number that really is) are most likely favorite music one has and wants to listen to right now (i.e. on an iPod).

On the whole, I honestly don’t know what to think of his essay.

Is anybody else violating intergalactic law? Some formatting features are not functional, but basic stuff kinda works.