We're Best Friends.

My sweet niece Olivia turns three today. We celebrated her all weekend, but that still doesn't seem to be quite enough. Three days with her is certainly not enough and she makes it so hard to leave her when it's time for me to go bye-bye on the train.

Our parting words: "Be safe T-T. Tell Thomas to stay on his tracks."
 
Yes, as in Thomas the train.

This past weekend, I would wake up hearing her tiny footsteps run across the floor above and then make their way down the stairs to the room I was staying in below. She's not a knocker, but her tell-tale twists of attempting to get the door open, suffice just fine. Then her sleepy-eyed, jammed up self appears and climbs up to the bed and asks if T-T's awake yet. I wasn't, but of course I am now because how can a moment be wasted sleeping when I could be spending it with her?

I notice these moments more now that I have two homes and our quality time is face time. That time is never enough. And now that she is a big sis? My heart cannot even handle.

This weekend she called me her best friend. The feeling is mutual, my love.

Olivia Grace, you have taught me new ways to love a human being. Watching you grow has been the most incredible experience of my lifetime and I hope you know how wrapped and surrounded in love you are.

-T-T

The Social Scientist: Looking at Nonverbals, The Media & Trayvon Martin

For anyone that has ever studied Nonverbal Communication, you know that it is theorized within the social scientist community that Nonverbals make up 75%-93% of the meaning we derive from any message exchange with another person. To clarify, when I use the term Nonverbal, I am referring to anything that is not verbal (words) communication. This is from the tone, volume, pitch and inflection of your voice, to your eye behavior, to the clothes you wear, your facial expressions and the way you look. Think about the "look" your mom would give you and you knew you were in trouble. She didn't have to say anything, but you just turned around and went to complete whatever task you knew you were supposed to.

That's the power of Nonverbals.

So it shouldn't come to much of a surprise that this number we attribute to the importance of Nonverbals is so large; we have one mouth but TEN Nonverbal channels for people to create meaning from.

It is also fact that (if we are blessed with the gift of sight) the first thing we notice about another person is their appearance. And what are the two things we first notice? Race and Sex.

I know. People think that they are transcending the times when they say, "I don't notice your race at all!" I hate it when people say this to me because it's simply not true and that is offensive. That means you are blatantly ignoring something I am covered in and that this has nothing to do with my identity and who I am. I love my skin and I don't want it to be ignored. I also don't want it to be the reason that I appear to be threatening. Our appearances can also work against us and whether they want to talk about it in a courtroom, this is the what happened to Trayvon Martin.

ANYONE that says, "race did not play a role in Zimmerman murdering Trayvon," has been separated from this society we live in. Maybe you live in a community where you only interact with people that are the same color, wear the same clothes, act like you and you don't watch any television, read any newspapers, or books. So given that, maybe you are Amish and therefore, you have been severed from the greater world and a nonparticipant in the forming of stereotypes of other people.

But let's assume for the next few paragraphs that you do watch movies, the news, or television. You will see that the media creates and reinforces certain perceptions of people based on their race, hair color, religious affiliation, etc. When we are shown a minority group in the same role over-and-over-and-over in the media but have no real interaction with that group, a stereotype is being created and reinforced. So when we happen to actually run into a person that fits that group, guess what our perception of that person will be if that's all we "know?"

For example, the media shows Mormons as being fundamentalists and having multiple wives in the two popular shows that portray Mormons; "Sister Wives" and "Big Love." One of these is also a "reality show" so of course that's how all Mormons live, right?

Let's look at Black men. Most Black men are shown in a criminal or law breaking role, speaking in ebonics, and they're only made successful by athletic ability or for their musical talent (thanks, BET). When we do see them in a role as something else, we usually count it as the exception to our stereotypical rule of thumb.

On the other hand, when we are confronted with a race that is shown in a variety of roles, it is much more difficult, if impossible, to stereotype them. How would you stereotype a White man? Take a minute and really explore what you could say about ALL White men that you see reiterated in the shows you watch, books you read, news you hear and movies you go to. This task was probably a bit more difficult if impossible for you to do. That's because our media is littered with representations of the White male. You can turn to AMC and see him as a maker of methamphetamine, then to NBC and see him sitting at the nightly news desk, then back to AMC and see him as the guy-in-charge at an ad agency, then to Showtime as a serial killer, wait an hour, and see him on the same network as a secret agent, and then to MTV to show him as a party guy/jock. So when I watch Jon Stewart, I don't think of him as a cook of methamphetamine, but a hilarious and credible fake news guy that I consider to be my TV husband. Do I want Walter White to be my TV husband? Well, maybe in his (Bryan Cranston) role on 'Malcolm in the Middle.' [See??]

I wouldn't call myself an expert per se on Nonverbals or Stereotypes, but I would credit myself as an expert in progress. I study this stuff, I teach this stuff and I am constantly thinking about this stuff as I apply it to everything I consume and draw these connections. I surely thought about it before the tragic day where a grown man saw a Black Kid in a hoodie and decided that was reason enough to follow him, despite the fact that there was no weapon in hand, unless you feared a Skittles attack. Tell me: Why else would Zimmerman consider Trayvon a threat if it weren't for his sex and skin color? I bet if I had been walking down the street dressed the same, I wouldn't have warranted the same suspicion. I'm black, but I'm also a female. Due to Black female stereotypes, I'm allowed to be loud and obnoxious, but I'm only a threat if you are trying to 'get with my man.'

Unfortunately, if I ever have a son, he will be considered black no matter what half his other is. Look at President Obama. And unfortunately, as long as the media shows that a Black man is to be feared, my child could be perceived in this same way. So this isn't a distant story I can ignore because it happened in Florida (although it's safe to say, I will never live in Florida), because this could just as easily be my story.

Nonverbals are powerful. And what we see on a daily basis creates our long withstanding perceptions of how we view the world. "We see things not as they are, but how WE are." Zimmerman didn't see Trayvon for what he was on that evening; a kid getting a snack from the store. He saw him as a scary black man.

I want to end on an exercise that I recently referenced in my last blog that I was challenged to do at a conference back in April:

Dr. Eddie Moore Jr. began the session with having us all close our eyes and then told us there is a door. The door opens. Dr. Moore then told us to picture a nigger walking through the door.

What did you see?

Black. Man. Saggy pants. Gangsta. Weapon. Fear. Danger. Chains. These were some of the things our collective group of 80 or so [Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, Native) people came up with.

Perhaps my favorite part of the session came at this point. Dr. Moore said "How many of you in here consider yourself a George Zimmerman?" People looked at their descriptors and maybe down with shame as George Zimmerman might be in all of us. "He made a quick point of judgement and stereotyped this young man. We were all so quick to tweet about Trayvon and order and wear, 'I am Trayvon Martin" sweatshirts,' without looking to see what part of us were also George Zimmerman's."

Thoughts on Privilege: Why race STILL matters in the 21st Century.

Thanks to my wonderful employers, I had the pleasure of attending the 14th Annual White Privilege Conference that was held in Seattle this year. After three days of intense discussion about the disparities between race, sex and class, I am still digesting some of this information, but I want to share with you some of the take-aways from my workshops & speakers. But for those wondering, I should probably first define what White Privilege is and why we were there.

White Privilege: "...[T]he various ways society confers unearned social, economic and political advantages on those who are perceived to be part of the white group. This can range from social courtesies, to housing, employment, educational, and judicial decisions."

If you are white, please continue to read. This isn't a place to make you feel guilt for being born of a certain color but instead to realize that white privilege does exist and the goal of the workshop was to engage in this discussion but also offer solutions to help create a world of equity. I imagine it may be hard to digest, thinking of yourself as privileged based on one's skin tone, but it's more difficult for us that are on the receiving end of not having this innate privilege. Have you ever been followed around a store because someone suspects you'll steal? I have. When you're in said store, can you find the products that you need (hair care, food, make-up shades)? I have this struggle. Have you ever been called arguably the worst word in the human language because of the color of your skin? I have. Have you ever met a stunned person that has only conversed with you via telephone and when they meet you in the flesh their look conveys the shock of "she's b l a c k?!" I have. Because according to some, I'm an Oreo (Black on the outside, White on the inside). Or I'm "white-washed." I'm not sure which qualities make me white, but I'm interested to know. It certainly isn't my skin color.

I attended about 10 sessions, key notes included, but I just want to highlight the sessions I found most applicable in the education field as I am an educator. There were also things that related to my personal life and some things that have occurred and still are occurring.

1. Listening is Power.
The first workshop I attended was by Dr. John Igwebuike and this was a wonderful place to start the conference. For those that know me, I have a tendency to talk. I get paid for talking. He highlighted the importance and responsibility that we have to listen to one another. No, not planning what you are going to say next and gathering your language to encode that message while the other person is talking, but being fully present and listening.

We live in a society that rewards those of us who speak up and we frequently dismiss each other's ideas by way of interruption or insulating our listening (not listening to those things that we find uncomfortable or are not interested in). One of my fellow conference goers made the revelation that we aren't formally taught to use our ears. We are taught how to speak and how to use our language, but not to actively engage and listen. After all, what is our First Amendment right? Oh yeah.

It's only when we are protecting ourselves that we then mention silence: "You have the right to remain silent..." so that big mouth of yours you've been training won't get you into trouble.

Take away: "Let us acknowledge before we assert."-Dr. John Igwebuike

2. Racial Justice & Classism.
Every time we make a comment according to the following, we are judging someone by their class status:
White Trash. Trailer Trash. Ghetto. Rednecks. Elitist. Welfare mom.
We usually blame the victim for their class status and make overarching assumptions about the character of these people based on their class status: "They're poor because they're lazy."

I've heard this comment in the very recent past and it disgusts me.

Ask yourself, have you had a personal conversation with any of these people to check your perception? We need to give people the opportunity to open their mouths before we write an entire lifestyle for them and check them off as measuring up to our small-minded stereotype. Are people lazy? Sure. But let us not assume that all of any group abides to one lifestyle.

If this is how you are trained to think about all poor people, you my friend have been led astray and you are a part of the problem by victimizing them.

We can all agree that we came into this world involuntarily, right? None of us chose to be born-our parents made a choice. Are we all born in the same house? In the same neighborhoods? To the same family? No.

There is a very real difference between people having wealth in this country and people having income. Wealth is when your family possesses stocks, assets and these have had the opportunity to build overtime, leading to the ability of a family to pass money down to subsequent generations. Think to yourself: Who has had the opportunity to build wealth in this country?

Not Native Americans.
Not African-Americans.
Not Latinos.

One groups possessions were taken from them while others started out in this country as a part of a White mans' wealth; as their very property. And we are probably fully aware of the inequities that Latinos face currently.

When we discuss income we are looking at periodic payments to pay for our day-to-day living costs like your groceries, electricity, water, etc. You can certainly be rich in your lifetime, but accumulating wealth takes time. One of the examples Betsy Leondar-Wright uses for looking at the disparity is the GI Bill after WWII. Was it the White soldiers or the Black soldiers that took home money after they both fought for this same country? And who did that allow to save money for their kids' education?

On the note of education, Leondar-Wright also brought to light this shocking fact: There are more legacy students admitted to higher education institutions than there are...

a) Affirmative Action scholarships
b) Athletic Scholarships
c) Geographic Admissions

combined!!...Who has the privilege? Please, do not tell me that Affirmative Action is negative until you have looked at all those people who are simply let in because of who their great grandfather was.

Take away: Class does not equal race although sometimes, there are these very obvious connections between the conditions that some have experienced because of the way this social construct of race has perpetuated in our society.

3. N!gga/DJANGO.
This was probably the most challenging workshop I attended. Although Django was only mentioned in the title and very briefly in this room, the session still offered some very insightful techniques for us to realize our stereotypes as well as dealing with the N-word.

Dr. Eddie Moore Jr. began the session with having us all close our eyes and then told us there is a door. The door opens. Dr. Moore then told us to picture a nigger walking through the door.

What did you see?

Black. Man. Saggy pants. Gangsta. Slave. Weapon. Fear. Danger. Chains. These were some of the things our collective group of 80 or so people came up with.

Perhaps my favorite part of the session came at this point. Dr. Moore said "How many of you in here consider yourself a George Zimmerman?" People looked at their descriptors and maybe down with shame as George Zimmerman might be in all of us. He made a quick point of judgement and stereotyped this young man. We were all so quick to tweet about Trayvon and order and wear, "I am Trayvon Martin" sweatshirts," without looking to see what part of us were also George Zimmerman's.

[Deep breathe]

He later had us engage in a repeat after me exercise. "I am a nigger. You are a nigger. We are niggers." I had great difficulty with this as I can imagine some of you might no matter what color you are, so I responded to the room:

"This exercise was really hard for me, particularly saying 'I am a nigger.' Like some of the other people in this room, I've been called this and that is not who I am. Every time we repeated it and is repeated, the word stings more. Most words lose power when you repeat it, but this one doesn't take that same pattern."

Take-away: The ending of something doesn't make it all better. Ending slavery, ending Jim Crow Laws, shutting down internment camps, giving Natives land in the form of reservations, does not make it all better. It's a start, but everything doesn't get neatly swept away as if it were dust. Think of it more as flood damage that has caused pipes to burst, streets of garbage to be waded through and mold to grow in the very foundations of us.

Dr. Moore offered this metaphor: "If a parent cusses in front of their child from the time they're born for the next 20 years and on their 20th birthday decides they aren't going to cuss anymore, is this going to change what the child has heard?" This may be a positive decision, but does it erase the conditioning in that child's brain? Is that child going to magically forget how to cuss and not have that as a part of their vernacular? I can make the same metaphor to the abuse of drugs, smoking, drinking, but I think that example really vivifies a complex issue.

---
The uneducated think that our work for racial equity is done simply because we have a black (talk about the one drop rule-he is equal parts black and white) President in the White House. You are sadly mistaken. Here are some examples of blatant racism that no one can argue with, that were blasted across comment sections and message boards on our lovely internet, but there are also things said daily by people in power (Senate, House) to their boss, our commander in chief.

-----

"@Walken4GOP: "Why did Obama's great grandaddy cross the road? Because my great grandaddy tugged his neckchain in that direction."

@pukingvagina: "So the nigger is still living life in that big white apartment."

@KG39baseball: "The movie 2012 first New York floods and there is a nigger in office also. See a coinensadince."

Yes. A coinensadince.

@madhouse12345: "No NIGGER should lead this country. #Romney"

@madhouse12345: "Only thing black people are good at is basketball #run #shot #steal"

------

I'll continue this discussion in another blog later, but this should have us all thinking. And not just thinking about it today because you read this, but look how our lives are determined by privilege of race, sex and class; arguably the most visible things to another person. We should also be thinking of our place of privilege and if we have a job we can do. When someone is being bullied, do you stand there and turn away? When someone is being mistreated, do you turn a blind eye even though your contact prescription argues that you have 20/20 vision?

Ask yourself: "My silence allows . . ." 

At the end of the day, we are all human beings, folks. Let's not forget that. We can no longer wonder why our gun crimes are so high when we have all of the information as to why. We need to treat each other with respect, like they matter, like they have blood in their body and flesh just like you, and skin just like you...it just may be a different color.

We can do better.

Note: This conference had 2,000 attendees from all over the US and I believe 21 countries. We were made up of all different skin colors with a large portion being white.

Dos.

The debut of 'OZ' was this past weekend and I hear it's all about how James Franco became the wizard of OZ. Yesterday marked my two year anniversary of when I found myself in the Emerald City as well, although not in the capacity of a wizard [some may beg to disagree and I'm okay with that]. My route didn't entail a yellow brick road, but it did involve courage, heart, smarts and the realization that there really is no place like home.

Okay, enough with the Wizard of Oz metaphor.

Moving is difficult. Especially when most of the people you care about are within a 15 mile radius of you. How conveniently spoiled I was to be able to get to one side of town to the other in 30 minutes or less in Portland "traffic." Ahh, I do miss what is considered traffic in Portland. So why remove myself from the coziest of comfort zones? I didn't move for a job, for a relationship or any concrete reason that most people that move have, except that every single day I woke up and did the same thing, I wondered what else I could be doing if I were somewhere else. After four years of feeling that way, I did something about it because pretty soon, I knew I wouldn't. 

So I did. I realized my fears that I had before moving wouldn't disappear; I'd just have to do things that challenged me which I wasn't really put in the position to do before. Here I was in a city where I had just as many friends as I had fingers [maybe less at the time], so I had to make an effort to involve myself. Or to do things alone. Not always did I want to have solo dates, which have been commonplace for me, but sometimes there wasn't an option. If I wanted to go try a new restaurant and my contact list of 5 had been exhausted, I 'd go alone. And what I realized about this is the silliness of what some of our perceptions are of being alone in public. Some people deeply fear the notion of having a sit-down meal by themselves. A book can be some of the best company [much better than someone sitting across from you that is more involved in their relationship with their Facebook application than in considering the conversation that you're having with them]. "Awkward" has become one of the most overused words in the English language. Maybe that's because we fear any scenario that is the slightest bit uncomfortable that we chalk it up with the word awkward and avoid it like Bloomberg does 16 ounce sodas. But I believe growth can come from discomfort.

One of these times I found myself in an unfamiliar environment, was when I voluntarily took a ballet class with my non-ballerina bod at 26. I hadn't taken ballet since I was probably 6 or 7. At that age you haven't developed your soccer thighs or much of any body, so it's much easier to maneuver yourself.
I had decided this class would be an excellent idea as it was marketed as an introductory ballet class, but when I walked in on the first day to a 96 pound Asian girl with her right leg held straight up in the air as her left foot rested on the ground, I knew this was anything but. This is one of those classes that people use as a 'warm-up' before their super-advanced night class, I thought. Needless to say when class started, they all broke into the "routine" while I fumbled in my new slippers I had sewn the night before and tried not to trip on any lose thread or an unexpected strap from my poor sewing job. It was an awful first day, but I went back every week to continually make a fool/improve my ballet game. By the last class that fell on my 27th birthday, I knew that damn routine.

There were actual lousy times where I had legitimate reason to be angry, like when my first apartment flooded 6 months after I moved in and I reconsidered everything. Seattle obviously hated me so much it wouldn't only rain outside, it would defy the very definition of shelter and rain inside my apartment to kick me out. Well played, Seattle. But I have more game than you and the Sounders [Go Timbers! Go Sounders? I'm so confused on my alliances].

I found a little place where I was sold by the rooftop view of the city. This is where I probably should be. And it was done. I'd found a new home and I love my little corner of the world. I love that I can greet it in the morning or evening with a skyline view or take my run down to Gasworks Park or walk somewhere for dinner or happy hour. This was the city life I had wanted.

[Home]

There are no greater messages here; no hypodermic theory that applies for all. There's nothing extraordinary about this story as I know people who have moved much further from their homes either willingly or forcefully. However, I do know that life is too short to wake up everyday with something weighing on you and consistently asking yourself "if." If you are staying a part of something for comfort and comfort only, reconsider. There is great beauty in taking risks and believing that you are awesome enough to seek and succeed in doing something new. It's even greater if you have people on your side that encourage and support [and visit!] you through a transition.

There is no place like home. And in case you hadn't noticed, Seattle can't be spelled without
'T-E-E-L-A.'

Consider this.

Last week while I was teaching my evening class, my lecture was interrupted by the raised hand of one of my students. I say "interrupted" as her question was completely unrelated to the lecture material.

Student: "Um, I noticed on our syllabus it says we have class on Valentine's Day."
Me: "Uh-huh." So far, this wasn't a question.
Student: "Well, I have a reservation. So would I be marked as absent if I'm not here?"
Me: "Yes. The college does not recognize it as a real holiday." ::waiting for laughter to subside:: "But you do have Monday off for President's Day."

In the following days, the student would continue to talk about her reservation to no one and to everyone, as she wondered aloud.
The time: 7:30.
The time she had to arrive: 7:15.
The location: The Space Needle.
The reservation maker: Her live-in boyfriend. "He didn't know I'd have class when he made it!"

It was then that I realized that people don't hate Valentine's Day, they hate people like her that rub it in their face in the middle of their seemingly harmless public speaking class with an irrelevant comment about the fact that she is in a relationship, possibly reminding others around her, that they are not.

Done. Next world problem to solve? I got this Obama.

People like my student, the overwhelming card displays at Target with oversized chocolate hearts the size of throw pillows that one person really shouldn't eat solo (shut down throw pillow sized chocolate heart sales, shut down obesity), Kay jeweler commercials, and that annoying woman at the office that sits next to you and gets a dozen red roses delivered to her, these are the reasons people loathe the arrival of February 14th. Who knows if your co-worker pulled a Cher from 'Clueless' and had those roses delivered to herself? There's really no way of knowing, people. Unless you check the handwriting on the card and see if it matches her signed timesheet.

That's why people hate Valentine's Day because if you are single, it seems like everyone else is in a relationship.

Single people, listen up. Just because somebody's Facebook status declares their love for their fiancee and their Instagram captures the candlelit dinner they're having from the Space Needle, doesn't mean that their life is better than yours or that everything is one gigantic-chocolate-heart-eating-happy-time (seriously, shut it down). Things are not always as they appear. Two years ago if you walked into my apartment on February 14th, it would have been natural to assume the red roses on my kitchen countertop were from a boyfriend, when in fact, they were roses I took from atop Papa's casket when we said goodbye to him earlier that day.

Things are not always as they appear.

Boyfriend or not, I can't be mad at a day, but I can be irritated with people...which is really no different than if it's February 13th or March 31st. It's just another collection of numbers that visits for 24 hours and passes just as its fellow brethren did the day before and will in the days after. You choose how you spend those hours; hating or loving. Celebrate the people you love and let them know about the space they fill with joy in your heart whether it's your girlfriend, husband, son, niece, or friend.

Take joy in the fact that you have a beating heart to be able to hate a day so much. And if that doesn't work, it will be February 15th before you know it. And you know what that means...half-off all candy day. Proceed with caution.

sundance.

In 2010, I took my first journey to Park City with one of my best friends for our inaugural trip to the Sundance Film Festival. I had signed up with extremely low expectations in the early fall to hopefully be a volunteer, so I was in complete shock when I opened an email in my inbox that said I'd been chosen. It was one of the top ten moments of my life being at that festival and I had to do whatever I could to feel this way again.

So I did the very next year.

And then two years after that.

I just returned from Round 3. With each trip, my fascination with the festival climbs to a higher level and I feel like I get to experience it from a different perspective as my traveling companions change. The environment itself, Main Street being at the base of a ski lift, is like a postcard.

I feel like I've been photoshopped into this picturesque town that only exists in coffee table books. I would pinch myself to see if it was a dream if my hands weren't chilled from the very real 3 degree weather at 6AM.

This year, the highlights came in a few different forms:

Fruitvale.
This film is based on the infamous shooting of an African-American man that was shot by a Caucasian police officer, on New Year's Eve in Oakland, California. While it's a true story this isn't a documentary, but a fictionalized depiction based on true events, where we see Oscar Grant's last day he spent on this Earth. The writer and director of this film, Ryan Coogler, is only 26 years old [which makes me feel particularly useless as I sit on my couch not creating anything even close to the caliber of this film]. He decided that this story needed to be told because even though he had no personal connection with Grant, he knew Grant. They shared a zip code. And as we know, we can be quite touched by the stories that we filter through on the news even if we don't have a personal relationship with someone, we have the capacity to be touched and moved. Everyone in that theater at the Library on Park Avenue, was touched. At the closing of 'Fruitvale' the only audible sound that could be heard were the sobs of the audience.
I was thrilled to see they won the Audience Award, Best Dramatic Film, and that Harvey Weinstein will make it possible for everyone to see this movie in this next year.
Keep this film on your Oscar watch for 2014, no doubt.

Newlyweeds.
Although not on the same level as 'Fruitvale,' the experience I had at this screening was unlike any other. At Sundance, after each film, there is a Q&A where the writer, director, producer and any cast that has chosen to attend the festival, come to the front and the audience is able to pose questions. I would later be coined by the producer of the film, "the girl that asked 5 questions." I have no shame in this because when else can you talk to the people behind the story and the people that it is told through? After "the girl that asked 5 questions" was done publicly asking questions, I had a one-on-one conversation with the Director/Writer and found myself talking to the lead lady about the meaning behind her tattoos, followed by a group photo of us all. You probably wouldn't be familiar with any of the names of this cast as I wasn't either, but I'm pretty excited to watch their careers evolve.

The Sightings.
Okay, okay, not gonna lie. While it is wonderful to be a part of the beginning of these actor's careers, I also have obnoxious reactions to the ones that I watch weekly. So when I was eating lunch with two of the ladies and I saw Dexter walking down the sidewalk, I stopped mid conversation and ran out of the restaurant. I ran/skip/hopped across the street, with no regard to traffic or ice spots and tapped Mr. C Hall on the shoulder. I told him I loved 'Six Feet Under,' [still holds the prize of BEST season finale ever in my humble opinion] and of course am obsessed with 'Dexter.' Because who doesn't idolize a serial killer? His response: "I should've worn the shirt," to which of course he was referring to his "kill shirt." At that point, I obviously handed my new iPhone 5 to a complete stranger and directed her to take a picture of me and my favorite serial killer. When I returned to the restaurant, most of the people sitting near us were looking at me [apparently my rapid departure caused quite the stir]. An older couple who apparently don't subscribe to Showtime asked me, "who was that?"

Later that day, Allison and I went to visit our friends waiting in line/wait to see if we could spot Paul Rudd after his film was done screening. And we did.

When he came out, he was walking pretty quickly and the fans were swarming him a bit. When it appeared that he wouldn't be stopping, I had to at least do something to attract his attention my way. So naturally I yelled, 'Clueless is my favorite movie!' At an independent film festival. He chuckled/smiled [who knows if he heard me or if he was just smiling for our flashing cameras] and went straight to his car. The fans booed him and walked away, angry that he didn't stop. Allison and I stood there looking at the action shots we were able to get and were discussing our next move, when it happened.
Paul Rudd gets out of his car and walks up to Allison and I.
Paul: Sorry guys, I thought I had an interview. [Yes, talking directly to us and only us]
Allison: [Silence]
Me: Incase you didn't hear me before, 'Clueless' is my favorite movie.
Paul Rudd: Thank you, I appreciate that.
Allison: [continued silence]
Me: Can we take a picture?
At this point the haters caught wind that Paul Rudd had reappeared and begun to descend upon us, cutting my intimate conversation with him short.
Pictures were taken and a memory made. Allison regained her ability to speak after we were a safe distance away from Paul.

Also spotted: Octavia Spencer, Michael Cera, Leslie Bibb, Stifler's mom, the backside of James Franco, some kid that was in the new 'Footlose,' Matthew McConaughey [ughhhh] and Rob Corddry.

Polygamy Porter was drunk, delicious food was consumed [Shabu!], friends were made waiting in lines for movies, and another perfect time was had [less for some flight delays and luggage troubles].

So if you're looking for a fantastic way to spend the third weekend of January next year or a cure for those post-holiday blues, I highly suggest taking a little jaunt to Park City. Guaranteed, once you have that first dance in the sun, you'll want that song to play forever.

Who is going with me in 2014?

traveling strangers.

It should come as a shock to no one [even if you don't know me in the 3D experience] that I absolutely love to travel. This morning I am embarking on a journey for my 3rd time to the Sundance Film Festival which has turned into my favorite winter get-a-way. Film. Snow. Music. Cozy bars & lounges. Stories being told in the theater and in the freezing lines awaiting to become a part of a film story, while writing your own. it is all fantastic. If there ever was an element for me, this is it.

I not-so-happily got out of bed at 3:30am to make travel day happen, but my morning grumps were over by the time I found my seat in 9A. I usually refrain from talking to people on planes in fear of being poisoned by their halitosis or long monologues of their career and what number business trip this is for them this year. However, there had been some talk by the airport workers of a reroute to Redmond, OR if it was too foggy to land in Spokane. We had some laughs about how little sense that made and the pilot confirmed minutes later that those airport workers were silly and we would obviously just come back to Seattle.

Spurred by this, the short-haired brunette lady in 9B, began to talk about her annoyance with an entitled "little blonde lady with too much money who was yelling at a TSA agent" as she hated the process. And technology. Then apparently she pulled out her iPhone.

She made me laugh and she appeared to be an advocate for good dental hygiene and she didn't have a laptop lying across her lap, so I assumed we were safe.

For our short jaunt from Western to Eastern Washington, we talked about our home of Seattle, her ill-suited 25 year marriage and how that led her to living in a MIL unit with her lesbian friends that are marrying this summer, their twin sons, and her battle with cancer. "At least I got some awesome wigs out of it!" She is cancer free now and I think that's awesome.

As we parted ways she told me what I had been thinking the whole time. "You know, I usually avoid talking to people on planes and usually just read whatever is on this," she said as she held up her Kindle. I looked down at my lap where my book was waiting to do the very same thing. "I really enjoyed talking to you today and I hope you have an amazing trip to Sundance and whatever other adventures you find yourself on." I told her I hope she makes it to Carnival in Brazil next year with her girlfriends.

I walked through the Spokane terminal and browsed through some titles of books I had no intention of buying and instead invested in my hydration, with a water. My clerk, a 58ish year old man asked to see my ID in compliance with my written request on my debit card. "What a great picture. But it doesn't do justice to the woman standing in front of me." Let me revisit the time I woke up and how awesome an unexpected comment like that can make a person feel while traveling. I black-girl-blushed by the sweet grandpa comment and told him how kind he was to have said that.

I hope you find yourself in your element on a fun adventure in the near future. And I hope you find some strangers that aren't egomaniacs and attend to their dental health.