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?

Duck Poop

Yesterday I spent a beautiful afternoon at Alki Beach in West Seattle. I was so mesmerized by the cloudless sky and the beaming sun while walking on the shoreline staring across the Sound to downtown Seattle, that I hadn’t realized all the duck feces that littered the ground below me. I checked both my soles and seemed to be in the clear but scraped them along the curb anyway. That’s the thing about sunny days. Even when surrounded by bliss, the duck poop lurks.

Which brings me to a segment, I’d like to call, “If you don't have something supportive to say, eat your scrambled egg before it goes bad."

To all those “birthers” waving around their transparent zip loc bags holding the remains of an un-hatched chicken fetus still demanding Obama’s birth certificate, I think he’s passed your test. With the outstanding execution of those 24 extremely courageous troops under the orders of our President, the most notorious man has been brought to justice. Every single American that was alive on that fall day remembers where they were on the morning of 9-11. I'm probably one of the least violent people you'll meet, but I have to take the 'Dexter' mentality here. I'm not confident the world will change in any significant way by way of terrorists, but I do know that sometimes the world is a better place without evil. This man was evil and because of him and his buddies, we have a collective image of death forever lodged into our memories and for the unluckiest, fragmented families because he led to their end.

[I was sitting in my room getting dressed. I had late start that day so I was slowly getting ready for school when mom told me to turn on the TV. I cried. Then I went to school where I walked in a fog all day. Life is confusing at 17. Even moreso when you will now have an image of 3,000 people being mass murdered engraved in your brain. Man, the world is more confusing than if he thinks I'm cute and will ask me to prom. I still have the papers from 9/12. One image shows a man jumping to his death, head first. I think he’d be pleased with yesterday’s events and want to shake the hands of our SEAL's and our President.]

“Obama shouldn’t take credit! He didn’t start the war!” Yes, you’re absolutely right. When the war started, Obama wasn’t the President and therefore, did not start the war. Bush did. Bush did not find Osama in his tenure as President. And who could blame him-Osama was holed up in a cave somewhere, right?

Well, I don’t know where the SOB has been for the last 10 years, but yesterday he seemed to be living the life of riches on a beautiful Pakistani day. Then he stepped in some serious duck poop. Game over. [Enter “Super Mario’s Brother’s” music here for affect]

So it is 2011. We are 5 months away from hitting the decade mark of 9-11. And in that almost 10 years, those images still have the capacity to give me a physical reaction. When I’ve visited Ground Zero, once in 2006 and on September 11, 2009, it has been a debilitating experience. My heart has never been so heavy standing on the city grave of thousands of Americans. You’re angry, sad, disgusted; you’re all of it. I know it sounds cliche, but when you're standing there, it's pretty remarkable.

After coming home from my day at Alki, I was reading & growing frustrated of the book because there’s way too many characters and it’s getting to be a bit much, but I must finish it. It’s the third book and I am 300 pages away from Lisbeth Salander freedom. So in my dedication to the book, I put it down and turned on the TV to channel surf instead. I landed on CNN and was just getting up to put in a movie. And there was the scroll of Breaking News.

“Obama will be making a serious announcement about our National Security.”

My first thought was that we were under attack again and quickly scanned the internet. Then John King came on and said, “Osama Bin Laden is dead. The US has his body.” John King, great delivery by the way. You could definitely feel the weight that this moment both brought and lifted. I also snickered at the thought of the very serious Republican-to-be candidate Donald Trump, grabbing a pre-made “Trump ‘12” sticker off his gold plated desk and crumpling it up. Then telling himself, “I did good. I did a really good job trying, I am proud of myself.” Then being equally sad when he later saw the ratings of ‘The Celebrity Apprentice’ for that night. Apparently his viewers were tuned into Fox News where the headline read “Usama Bin Laden dead.”

In my naivete, I was pretty certain people would be proud that we'd brought this mo-fo down. I also thought that credit would be given to our troops and oh right, our President. Boy was I wrong. Yes, the President does not operate within a vacuum alone; he is surrounded by aids and advisors for which we should be lucky that he doesn’t make decisions alone and has full control (see photo below). Well, maybe we would prefer this...seeing the current obsession with Monarchies and the Fairytale land of where real life Dukes & Dutchesses actually roam city streets outside of the pages of a classic novel (that I'm sure no American is reading unless it's a round flat disc that reads 'Disney').

I digress.

He is our COMMANDER IN CHIEF, which means we follow his orders. He is not simply a seat warmer to the desk chair in the Oval Office which people have also degenerated the highest office to the land to be which is disgusting.

[Secretary of State Clinton's face says everything you can't hear in this photo]

The conclusion I have drawn is that no matter what he achieves, even if it is something a Republican claims to have wanted, if Obama gets us there, there will be no satisfaction or credit. There will always be the person who has just quenched their thirst with haterade to say, “but he didn’t do this” or “well, he doesn’t deserve the credit. So-and-So did it.” I think it’s pretty ridiculous but usually it is the unsung heroes who do wondrous things and we recognize that somewhere in a dusty history book years later.

We all need to come off the high seat of either the back of the elephant or donkey we sit upon, and give credit where it is due. Stop acting with the maturity of second grade children on opposing ball teams. "No I grabbed it first! Nah-uh..Sssshe touched it last!" Just stop. Let me make you some eggs.

And if you can't, I know this beautiful park in Alki beach we should go for a walk in...

"Shoes? Nah... you should definitely go barefoot."