Screenings, Stars, Skiing, Soirees, and SWAG - Sundance 2004
Screenings
From surfing to romance to death to sex between brothers, the films at Sundance ranged from great to good to disturbing. There was indeed a little bit of everything.
Stars
They were crawling all over Park City. According to People and US magazines, Ashton and Demi, Courtney and David, Ben (without Jen), and Nick and Paris were among the many stars spotted in the snowy mountain town. According to me and Lori S., Mario Van Peebles, Mario Van Peebles' dad, and that guy who played Sara Gilbert's boyfriend on Roseanne were also in attendance.
Skiing
I suck at skiing and have the bruises to prove it. For some it was like riding a bicycle. I can only assume that Emily Z. is an excellent cyclist.
Soirees
Apparently, I missed some of the better shindigs and many required "credentials" to get in. We learned quickly that a pass with someone else's name on it accompanied by a wink and a smile worked just as well. It also helps to know the right people...or VP.
SWAG
If you leave Sundance without scoring some free stuff, you can only blame yourself. This became quite clear at SWAGdance 2004.
A general invite in IndieWIRE Newsletter announced that leftover stuff would be handed out at the atrium in the Marriott in what was to be known as SWAGdance. As people who enjoy free stuff, Lori S. and I set on our way. We could only be amused by what we found inside...
On the first table, there were Red Vines, a bowl of M&Ms, Peppermint Patties, Balance Bars, and one apple. On the second table, we found printer paper, warm diet coke, sticky pads, paper clips, and envelopes. Rummaging through these things was a slew of volunteers. Because we had some time to kill, Lori and I decided to sit down. It's not our fault that people began to believe that we were the hosts of this party. Well, at least it wasn't our fault until we decided to act as if we were; helping people choose the best balance bar for them and steering them away from the nasty M&Ms.
As the "party" dwindled, Lori and I realized that we had learned something from that experience: it doesn't matter how crappy the free stuff is, people will take it and they'll thank you for it too.
In the end, Sundance reminded me of a lot of things:
1. When you fall down you have to get back up or risk perishing in the snow on the side of the mountain,
2. One man's trash is another man's treasure, but trash isn't litter until you leave it behind,
3. A little niceness goes a long way...towards getting you into the restricted areas,
4. Everyone's a critic, and
5. Great art can take your soul to another place.
25 January 2004
20 January 2004
Home-wrecker
Perhaps it was the several layers of pink clothing I was wearing. Perhaps it was the air of what I was about to do...karaoke. Perhaps it was that he was certifiably insane. I'm not sure what it was, but the semi-crazy man who I ran into Saturday night knew something about me...something I didn't even know. Apparently, I'm a home wrecker. I'm a home wrecker and that guy is scary.
As I walked to the Mint, the man who had just yelled at another complete stranger for never being on time (from the look on that guy's face, he thought he was on time) turned to me. He felt the need to stop me from my evil ways by repeatedly informing me that I was a homewrecker. Interestingly, he gave me no advice on how to change, so it seems that I am still, by his standard, a homewrecker.
Note - as the frightening man accused me of breaking up families, I sought refuge in the only place one can go in these situations...Safeway. It's not just a grocery store.
Perhaps it was the several layers of pink clothing I was wearing. Perhaps it was the air of what I was about to do...karaoke. Perhaps it was that he was certifiably insane. I'm not sure what it was, but the semi-crazy man who I ran into Saturday night knew something about me...something I didn't even know. Apparently, I'm a home wrecker. I'm a home wrecker and that guy is scary.
As I walked to the Mint, the man who had just yelled at another complete stranger for never being on time (from the look on that guy's face, he thought he was on time) turned to me. He felt the need to stop me from my evil ways by repeatedly informing me that I was a homewrecker. Interestingly, he gave me no advice on how to change, so it seems that I am still, by his standard, a homewrecker.
Note - as the frightening man accused me of breaking up families, I sought refuge in the only place one can go in these situations...Safeway. It's not just a grocery store.
16 January 2004
Space
I was listening to NPR the other day, as I often do. It makes people at work think I'm on an important conference call. They have been talking about space a lot recently. On this particular day, the discussion was centered around getting Americans excited about the space program. Callers had lots of great and sometimes stupid ideas. One person, in particular, stood out to me.
The panelists all agreed that something about this recent trip to mars was anti-climactic. People just didn't seem to care. They were all baffled about why, until one woman spoke up. She claimed that America's disinterest was due to the fact that a robot was the one sent to mars. Although she agreed that it was dangerous to send humans to mars or even to space, she felt that we should do it anyway. That's how we'll get people involved, she claimed. Slowly panelists came to see her point, agreeing that a robot taking pictures was boring. Another caller said that we need to send a man up there with a flag because "that's what it's all about." It does seem really "American" to send someone to his death, so that people can say "cool." It also seems really boring to send a huge digital camera into space. I guess its a no win situation. Maybe we should work on poverty. Nah...that's boring.
I was listening to NPR the other day, as I often do. It makes people at work think I'm on an important conference call. They have been talking about space a lot recently. On this particular day, the discussion was centered around getting Americans excited about the space program. Callers had lots of great and sometimes stupid ideas. One person, in particular, stood out to me.
The panelists all agreed that something about this recent trip to mars was anti-climactic. People just didn't seem to care. They were all baffled about why, until one woman spoke up. She claimed that America's disinterest was due to the fact that a robot was the one sent to mars. Although she agreed that it was dangerous to send humans to mars or even to space, she felt that we should do it anyway. That's how we'll get people involved, she claimed. Slowly panelists came to see her point, agreeing that a robot taking pictures was boring. Another caller said that we need to send a man up there with a flag because "that's what it's all about." It does seem really "American" to send someone to his death, so that people can say "cool." It also seems really boring to send a huge digital camera into space. I guess its a no win situation. Maybe we should work on poverty. Nah...that's boring.
13 January 2004
Utilities
I hate utility companies.
First, I hate how they have those cutesy 1-800 numbers with their names in them. I don't want letters, I want numbers. It's a phone number, not a phone word.
Second, I hate how they always have a stupid answer for every intelligent question I have.
Q - "Why do you have to "install" my cable if its already installed?"
A - "Oh, we have come out to install it no matter what, so someone has to be there."
Q - "But why?"
A - "We have to go out to make sure you plugged it in correctly and install everything."
Q - "Install what?"
A - "Your cable."
Third, I hate how everytime I call, they tell me I'm paying too much money for what I'm getting. Duh. Why do I have to call for you to realize that? "Excuse me, did you know that you could be paying $20 less for what you're getting?" " Yes, actually, I enjoy being gorged by your stupid company."
Finally, I hate how they always try to sell me something else. "This month, you can also sign up for a new horse with free installation. Only $350 per month" Ohhh, what a deal.
I hate it all, but, unfortunately, I love the Food Network, TLC and MTV.
I hate utility companies.
First, I hate how they have those cutesy 1-800 numbers with their names in them. I don't want letters, I want numbers. It's a phone number, not a phone word.
Second, I hate how they always have a stupid answer for every intelligent question I have.
Q - "Why do you have to "install" my cable if its already installed?"
A - "Oh, we have come out to install it no matter what, so someone has to be there."
Q - "But why?"
A - "We have to go out to make sure you plugged it in correctly and install everything."
Q - "Install what?"
A - "Your cable."
Third, I hate how everytime I call, they tell me I'm paying too much money for what I'm getting. Duh. Why do I have to call for you to realize that? "Excuse me, did you know that you could be paying $20 less for what you're getting?" " Yes, actually, I enjoy being gorged by your stupid company."
Finally, I hate how they always try to sell me something else. "This month, you can also sign up for a new horse with free installation. Only $350 per month" Ohhh, what a deal.
I hate it all, but, unfortunately, I love the Food Network, TLC and MTV.
08 January 2004
My Blog
Like a wildfire, word of my blog seems to have spread to all corners of my office (thanks Sujal). It's weird finding out from others that they read about Roy or the Yankees or one of my many insecurities. It's weird, but I love it. A blog is like a public diary, except I don't really write about anything real and I have to deal with critiques/comments from everyone who reads it. If it were a real diary, no one would actually tell me that they've read it and I could go on pretending. Now, I feel tremendous pressure to be clever and witty when really I want to dwell in the depths of low brow toilet humor.
I guess this is my way of saying "don't expect much from me, and I will deliver, but expect too much and you will be disappointed...promise"
Like a wildfire, word of my blog seems to have spread to all corners of my office (thanks Sujal). It's weird finding out from others that they read about Roy or the Yankees or one of my many insecurities. It's weird, but I love it. A blog is like a public diary, except I don't really write about anything real and I have to deal with critiques/comments from everyone who reads it. If it were a real diary, no one would actually tell me that they've read it and I could go on pretending. Now, I feel tremendous pressure to be clever and witty when really I want to dwell in the depths of low brow toilet humor.
I guess this is my way of saying "don't expect much from me, and I will deliver, but expect too much and you will be disappointed...promise"
07 January 2004
Hit Me Baby, One More Time
This week, everyone was talking about Britney's short-lived marriage...everyone but me. Embarrisingly, I didn't find out until Wednesday that she and Mr. Alexander had been married and 55 hours later were single again. The question I ask is why?
Is it because I don't get enough "news" mags like US or People? Is it because my cable isn't working? Is it because my friends don't care enough to keep me informed? I used to know about things like this before the television in the elevator reported it. Now I read about in the National Report section of the New York Times. Travesty indeed.
This is why we cannot re-elect Bush.
This week, everyone was talking about Britney's short-lived marriage...everyone but me. Embarrisingly, I didn't find out until Wednesday that she and Mr. Alexander had been married and 55 hours later were single again. The question I ask is why?
Is it because I don't get enough "news" mags like US or People? Is it because my cable isn't working? Is it because my friends don't care enough to keep me informed? I used to know about things like this before the television in the elevator reported it. Now I read about in the National Report section of the New York Times. Travesty indeed.
This is why we cannot re-elect Bush.
01 January 2004
Worst Date Ever
So, I was going to dedicate an entry to the worst New Year's date ever, but since all I can remember is him hitting me in the head with a door and me eating a lot of cupcakes (and half a biscuit from Popeye's), I don't feel like I can adequately describe the evening. Also, I'm afraid he'll cry.
So, I was going to dedicate an entry to the worst New Year's date ever, but since all I can remember is him hitting me in the head with a door and me eating a lot of cupcakes (and half a biscuit from Popeye's), I don't feel like I can adequately describe the evening. Also, I'm afraid he'll cry.
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