Leensa Gheneti/The QUEST
Two years ago, during my freshman year at Reed, a Random House upperclassman let me into her dorm room to watch the Academy Awards. We weren’t too close, but she knew that this year the Oscars were really important. Leonardo Dicaprio was nominated for Best Actor because of his role in The Wolf of Wall Street. And, as a matter of fact, there was a Leonardo Dicaprio poster hanging in the halls of Random House, covered in my lipstick stains.
After hours of waiting, it was finally time for Best Actor to be announced. The Wolf of Wall Street was a great movie, and I was sure that Leo would win this year, after being snubbed so many times before. Remember that scene where Leo took a bunch lemmons and then fell down a staircase to get to his car? Yeah, it took a week to film that scene. But the envelope opened and Matthew fucking McConaughey won. Leo deserved better, and I was so hurt on his behalf that I cried. Yes, I cried for Leonardo Dicaprio.
Fast forward two years. At last, after consuming raw bison liver in dedication to his role in The Revenant, Leonardo Dicaprio has taken away an Oscar. A sparkling, golden Oscar. God bless the Academy. God bless Leonardo DiCaprio.