AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes3 p.m. PST: Lights, camera, tenting!
3:06 p.m.: Considering I'm standing two stories above, and several hundred feet north of the plastic greenhouse that is today's red carpet, my view is actually pretty good. Like when Industry muckety-muck Dan Glickman is introduced, I can see the crowd collectively shrug.
3:08 p.m.: It's tough on the bleacher creatures before the A-listers arrive. They're so desperate to make noise. Official greeter Robert Osborne just saying the word Juno elicits a big cheer.
3:09 p.m.: Can't wait to hear what happens when Osborne gets to even more exciting words, like Miley and Cyrus.
3:20 p.m.: It's raining; it's not pouring.
3:21 p.m.: The weather, by the way, should be a nonstory here. It's not too wet. It's not too cold. In fact, I'd say it's just right.
3:22 p.m.: Then again, I wore layers.
3:37 p.m.: All of the awards shows are held in Hollywood—spiritually if not geographically—but only at the Oscars can I look out a window and see the actual Hollywood sign...
3:38 p.m.: ...And then turn around, and find Donny Osmond chatting in the lobby.
3:39 p.m.: No, I don't know why Osmond's here. Last I checked, Goin' Coconuts wasn't eligible for an award since, well, forever.
4:09 p.m.: An urgent email in my inbox: "Flush Up to 20 Excess Pounds Out of Your Body!" Good to know spammers don't take Oscar night off.
—Filed by Joal Ryan