It’s the first day of March, and proverb has it marching in like a lion. I happen to love lions so that’s not a bad thing, and for many of us the roar of them is nothing but an indicator that a classic movie is about to begin. March is the month when spring officially begins, even if it won’t feel like it for a while. I’ll take it on a technicality, so let the fanfare and roar be grand and bold. Oh, I realize there are still a few more pesky weeks of winter, but now is the time to plan and begin the earliest motions of spring cleaning. (We have so much to do inside that it must begin soon or we won’t finish before summer.)

A new project is in the works too, which means things are extra busy around here, so let me go work on it a bit while you peruse how we do March around here:

• March 2010
• March 2011
• March 2012
• March 2013
• March 2014
• March 2015
• March 2016
• March 2017
• March 2018

Some days dawn like a Mary Oliver poem – all hope and promise and beautiful heartache…

I don’t usually get to embrace the morning. It passes in a rush of waking and showering and doing my best impression of a man who can dress himself for work. As it likely it for many others, my mornings are on auto-pilot, and the older I get the more mundane and drudge-like they sometimes feel. Every once in a while a blip will occur, some minor snag that reminds me I’m still imperfectly human no matter how many times I’ve done this: a squirt of lotion instead of toothpaste on the toothbrush that is just about to go in my mouth, a drawstring that gets right in the way of the stream of urine, or putting one contact lens into the eye that already had one in already. Fun, fun, fun.

Once upon a time I practiced meditative mornings over the weekends – when sun was out, either reflecting brilliantly on the snow, or mingling softly among the blades of grass – and there was no music, no television, and no washer/dryer duet. Silence and stillness. It grounds the heart, setting a bedrock of peace for the day no matter where it might take us. I miss those meditative mornings. Perhaps I’ll set my alarm a bit earlier so I have time to start the day in peace. It may make a difference.

Meditation need not be anything complicated or lengthy. Actually, it’s better in my case if it’s neither, and simplicity is integral to the experience. Even just five to ten minutes of sitting in uninterrupted silence each day can work wonders. If you can stretch it to fifteen, that’s even better, but something is better than nothing. I find it takes a few minutes to clear my brain of worries and plans and concerns and daily stuff. That’s why it’s sometimes easier to do it first thing in the morning.It’s quieter then, too.

So here’s to those contemplative mornings. May they greet the day in peace, and carry the mindset through the rest of the hours.

The golden luster of all those little dickless statuettes has hopefully not yet worn off for all the Oscar-winners from last night, but we are definitely moving forward into the next week, as it’s the last one in February. The sooner it’s over, the better. On with one quick look back…

We begin with some scent planning.

Desperately seeking mall solace.

Are my days of tea-bagging at an end?

Erect as a sun dial.

Mike Rickard, living ‘Out Loud.’ 

A shirtless Nick Jonas afternoon delight.

Is that a pipe in Cristiano Ronaldo’s underwear?

Yawning through the Academy Awards. 

Do follow these #TinyThreads.

Hunks of the Day included Ben Platt, Chris Harrison, Don Benjamin, Jack Muldoon, Reggie Bullock and Tobi Jasicki. 

If I must, I suppose I must…

Slay, Billy Porter, slay.

Regina King is a goddess who knows how to drape it.

Melissa McCarthy, proving me wrong in that not everyone should wear a cape at least once in their lifetime. Looks like a shower cap on her shoulders.

Mark Ronson is wearing just enough chicness to set a tux apart from the pack.

Linda Cardellini belongs on Fraggle Rock, and that’s not an insult.

Henry Golding’s outfit is as elegant as his accent.

Diane Warren – bringing back the dickie. No. God no.

I want Michelle Yeoh to be my fairy godmother.

Kasey Musgraves – what’s wrong? Couldn’t get Glinda’s bubble and wand too? (That said, I adore it. Oh wait, just saw it again. Nope. Give it back to Glinda.)

Apologies to Awkwafina: I think Glenn Close did this better yesterday.

Gemma Chan – I am here for this color, but why the shower curtain ruching?

James McAvoy – A black tux. For the Oscars. Groundbreaking. {Just take it off.}

Glenn Close – Restoring my faith in the cape. Take a lesson Melissa McCarthy.

Angela Basset – I’m questioning my sexuality.

Spike Lee – Channeling Prince’s work in Batman.

Jennifer Hudson – A one-shouldered scarlet dream.

Richard E. Grant – The richly-hued tux must match how good he smells.

Jennifer Lewis and Shangela: giving me life. Operation ‘Avenge the Kevin Hart Debacle’ in effect.

Nicholas Hoult – I am here for all of it, whatever the wrap is going on. (It’s actually a Dior tux, and it’s glorious.)

Is Sam Rockwell playing Lex Luthor for something?

Amy Adams always looks so friendly and approachable. Not sure I want that on this night. I want glamorously intimidating and elegantly terrifying.

Jason Momoa – Bohemian black tie sans tie. It works with the hair, even if the fit is just slightly off. (He still looks better naked,)

Charlize Theron – Joan Crawford will rise from the dead to get her shoulders back. 

Rami Malek – Another black tux. What more is there to say? Take it off?

Sam Elliott – matching the hair to the shirt. Well-played, sir. 

Jennifer Lopez, please don’t cut yourself on any of that! (PS – I’ll take it when you’re done. Thank you, Tom Ford.) 

Bradley Cooper – Whoa! The magenta sequins and ostrich feathers are over the top! Just kidding. Just another black tux.

Emma Stone – I’m torn. Need to see it closer…

Lady Gaga – The jewelry is magnificent. The McQueen is the color of 90% of the tuxes. The effect is largely that of this year’s Academy Awards: underwhelming. 

I love Maya Rudolph so much that I will refrain from commenting on that… dress.

Tonight Rachel Weisz comes complete with a cherry-red baby-proof bib. Not sure why.

Chris Evans is such a gentleman, and that jacket is divine.  

Waiting for Bette Midler to save another Awards show… in 3, 2, 1. 

Camo for the Academy Awards? Interesting choice. Not as successful as this one, sorry Pharrell Williams. 

Melissa McCarthy’s bunny just won the Oscars. {Careful with those rabbits, Glenn Close is in the FRONT ROW.}

Nope, Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper’s performance just won the evening. Classy. Elegant. Moving. 

Spike Lee & Barbra Streisand: Best Couple of the Oscars. #hats 

Glenn Close was robbed. Our country can’t elect anyone anymore. 

Julia Roberts is pretty in pink, even with those fish skeleton earrings. 

This year’s Super Bowl was one big-ass dud (with the possible exception of the Adam Levine strip show) but ball games never interested me as much as shiny phallic men. Tonight is the Academy Awards, and once again I’m not as excited about the night as I’ve been in the past (cite a combination of the new Academy nomination process – how many films are up for Best Picture now? – tiresome hosting issues (Kevin who?) and just getting older and growing uninterested in such things). I still have some favorites, including ‘The Favourite’ and Glenn Close, as well as Cate Blanchett and Nicole Kidman in whatever gown they’ll choose to wear, and of course I’ll watch because there’s something comforting about fluff and entertainment in this present climate.

In the past I’ve done some online posts about the Oscar ceremony (some FaceBook stuff and lots of Tweets) and a recap of commentary on this very blog, and perhaps I’ll get a second wind and do a bit of that, but as we near the last month of winter, I’m probably going to be too exhausted for any of that. (Follow or Friend me just in case.) 

Anyway, let’s get some glamour going. We need it now.