U is for ...

…. UGG.

A shame, really, that a word, or rather a sound, which many associate with defeat and resignation makes me so utterly happy.

Ugg.  My Uggs.  Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

What must be about 20 years ago I broke a bank I didn't have and bought a pair of Ugg slippers.  A dumb, frivolous purchase that I regretted for as long as it took UPS to deliver them to my door and put them on my feet.

Ugg.  My Uggs.  Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

It's not normal, really.  The sheer comfort I get from these, now some 20 year old, slippers.  This says about as much about these slippers as you need to know.  For a person who throws or gives away most of everything, I will not let these slippers go.  They are tattered.  Torn.  Ripped.  Wrecked.  They are perfect.

Ugg.  My Uggs.  Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

I open my door, literally kick off my shoes and slide my tortured souls into these babies.  And, just like that, I am wrapped in a cozy blanket drinking hot chocolate being serenaded by Bono. I have, on more than one occasion, left my house with them on, only noticing that something was amiss when I reached my lobby.  At least I noticed.

Ugg.  My Uggs. Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

Sometimes I think I should just get a new pair - I mean, these guys are ratty and now, after all these years,  about 2 sizes too big.  They're rather embarrassing. And I'm sure full of weirdo germs.  ?  But how can I?  What would I do with these ones?  The garbage is no place for my slippers.  I'd donate them, but who would be worthy of them (and, more realistically - that would be gross)?  So, they stay.  On my feet.  Waiting for me every night.  Like reliable slippers should.

Ugg.  My Uggs.  Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

Maybe it's strange, to have such a connection to a pair of slippers.  I'm not 90.  Perhaps it's weird, to be so comforted by something so warm & fuzzy.  I'm not 5.  But I'm definitely somewhere in between.  Somewhere in between being young and silly and completely fancy - free and old and crotchety and somewhat out to lunch.  So, take comfort in my slippers I will.  Get new ones, I won't.  Stop talking like Yoda, oh, fine.

Ugg. My Uggs.  Oh, my dear sweet Uggs.

U is for …. Ugg.

TIFF 2013 - With a Little Help From My Friends - Volume 3

And now, the REST and the ROUND UP ...


The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him and Her - James McAvoy, Jessica Chastain

Ready?  This was my number one.  Why?  Because it was original and charming and sad and full of love.  And that fucker hope.  I am a big sap.  But I'm also a big sap with a real weakness for story, and in The Disappearance, we get two - two sides of a story.  James and Jessica play Connor and Eleanor a married couple torn apart by tragedy, and this film takes us on each of their journeys during this period of separation.  Two complete films, telling the same story from their two perspectives.  Each version, each film, is complete in and of itself - they are shot differently, lit differently.  And depending on who is remembering, spoken differently and characters dressed differently.  This is so real - you can remember the most important parts of your life in what you feel is a complete and perfect memory, and when you retell this memory to someone who lived it with you, they look at you as if you're bonkers, 'no, you didn't say that, and were wearing this.  it totally wasn't raining.  i didn't ask you, you told me.'  - and at times the film was so intimate it felt like we were intruding.  I think your feelings on the film could differ depending on whose story you see first - we got his, some screenings got hers.  Having dissected this ad nauseam with my fellow TIFF'ers,  we think 'his' is the way to go.  For sure.  It will be curious to see how this will be released - at over three hours it's not exactly standard movie fare, but releasing two individual movies would take away from the brilliant originality of what we saw.  I'll leave those questions to the big wigs (happy to report that Uncle Harvey bought it!) and implore you to see this.  Outstanding performances, killer soundtrack, real feelings and a fresh take on a common theme.  What's not to love?

"I have only one heart in this body, have mercy on me." Slay. Me. James. McAvoy.

August: Osage County - Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Chris Cooper, Ewan McGregor

To say I'm having a rough time at work lately would be the understatement of the year.  Every day feels like I'm wading in marshland with marble slabs in my boots as I'm holding a dull machete trying to fight my way to the other side.  Yes, I am prone to melodrama but seriously work blows in exactly that way.  So when my boss invited me to the pre-party and Gala screening of TIFF's hottest ticket (that we were shut out of buying tickets for) I wasn't all "oh my gosh, yes of course I'd LOVE to thank you so much for thinking of me" typical styles.  I was all, like, "okay, sure" on the outside and completely "fuck, YEAH, you should invite me to that but that's not making anything better" on the insides.  This subtext did not ruin my night at all - in fact, I think it added to it.  August tells the story of an utterly dysfunctional family who live with secrets and anger and guilt and meanness.  So. Much.  Meanness.  All right, fine.  Not exactly what's happening at the office, but there's a huge theme of dissatisfaction going on which is completely resonating with me right now.  Tracy Letts adapted his Pulitzer Prize winning play, and no surprise the writing is sharp and biting.  It's uproarious and uncomfortable.  We laugh and we cringe.  The acting is absurd.  Absolutely absurd.  I suppose when you're playing opposite Meryl Streep you must bring your A- game and I'm almost surprised Julia could and did.  They were both riveting, portraying mother and daughter in exactly the kind of mother / daughter relationship you must have only in nightmares or horror movies.  This is a powerhouse cast and an absolutely powerhouse film.

Blood Ties - Clive Owen, Billy Crudup, Marion Cottilard, James Caan

Oh my god, where do I start.  The story here is nothing original - two brothers caught on opposite sides of the law dealing with family history and inner demons.  Whatever.  At the hands of director (and co-screenwriter) Guillaume Canet, Blood Ties was clumsy, unfocused and boring.  I do believe there were four movies being filmed here and my gal Marion had an accent for each one of them.  I'm not sure how this happened - we know she's a solid actress, but she was terrible here.  My hunch is that the Guillaume (her HUSBAND!) sort of assumes she knows what to do and lets her sort of find her own way OR she tunes him out like most wives do with their husbands.  Either way, if they ever break up (which I really hope they don't because holy shit they are HOT together) this will be why.  I'm sad for Clive, as I adore him and want him to be in better movies.  I want him to be a better actor.  But I think, really, I just want him to be in movies where he is not sporting a moustache. 

Tom at the Farm - Xavier Dolan

Xavier Dolan is something of a sensation.  A 24 year old writer / actor / director from Quebec who has written / acted in / directed five critically acclaimed films.  Each film is completely different, yet possesses a signature Dolan style of mood and atmosphere.  If he wasn't so adorable, you'd absolutely hate him.  Tom at the Farm is the creepy, sinister tale of a young man who meets his deceased lover's family for the first time.  Some of them are not aware of their son's sexual orientation and this secret plays to great tension as ... things happen.  Dun.  Dun.  Dun.  I think this film was let down by its overblown score which basically told me when I was supposed to be scared.  I can see how some would feel that's helpful, but I was good on my own - I am pretty damn sure I know when I need to be scared.  I really find this music pandering really annoying - it's no different in my mind to an actor breaking the 4th wall and saying "hey, he's behind the door grab your armrest NOW!!" But don't let this dissuade you from a view - Tom was a solid creepy thriller.

The Right Kind of Wrong - Ryan Kwanten, Will Sasso, Catherine O'Hara

Ah, the Rom Com.  Has there been a genre more butchered than the Rom Com?  NO!  Is it hard to make a Rom Com? Not if you follow the rules!  The Right Kind of Wrong was a classic - rule following - paint by numbers Rom Com.  And it worked.  Our perfect lovers meet cute?  CHECK!  Quirky best friend? CHECK!  Unsuitable partner for one of leads?  CHECK!  Grand gestures?  CHECK?  Period of separation?  CHECK!  Montage?  Oh.  Crap.  No montage.  But you see where I'm going, right.  This film wasn't all that original or earth shattering.  It won't be critically acclaimed or award winning.  I don't care.  It was fun and I laughed and I routed for Ryan Kwanten's Leo right until the last scene.  All your movies don't need to be serious and thought provoking.  It's okay.  It really, really is.  Added bonus:  this film was shot in Banff.  Guys.  We live in a beautiful country.  If you see this film and don't fall in love with it, at least you can say you fell in love with Alberta.

Mandela - Idris Elba, Naomie Harris

Flawless.  This is pretty much all you need to know about this one. It was perfect.  Telling the story of Nelson Mandela basically from his time as a Johannesburg lawyer, to his inauguration as South Africa's first democratically elected President, Mandela never lets us down, and never loses us.  It has a distinct point of view, but doesn't shove it down our throats.  It was perfectly scored.  We learn things about Mandela that we may not have known - he wasn't perfect, few people are.  I'm not sure if this film meant more to me because I've just come back from South Africa, where they are still dealing with many of the issues and injustices laid out in the film, or not.  It's an amazing feeling, though, to have been in Mandela's cell at Robben Island and walk through the lime quarry where he spent his days, and then to see this all play out on film.  The resolve and personal will to stand up for something so ardently is simply astounding to me.  I'm not sure how Idris Elba got into this part - the pressure to portray a real life, almost mythical, hero must have been immeasurable, but he did it.  The voice, the cadence, the walk, the resonance was all there.  I'm worried that people will think he made it look too easy - Idris is one of these chameleon actors (kinda hard when you're over 6 ft tall and play simmer - angry type of dudes) who melt into their roles.  In the interest of full disclosure, I'm completely obsessed with him.  I hope after seeing Mandela you will be too.  Not just in Idris, but also in the beautiful and complex country of South Africa.

Dom Hemingway - Jude Law, Richard E. Grant

When a movie opens with "my cock is splendid" you know you're in for some wild fun.  Loved this one.  Jude plays an ex-con just released from prison who is trying to figure out what's next.  He's got anger issues and daughter issues and, well, lots of issues.  He doesn't have speaking issues, though, because everything coming out of Dom's mouth is fucking hilarious.  This is the kind of film you could imagine Guy Ritchie making if Guy Ritchie hadn't turned into such a hack.  But, really, who needs Guy Ritchie when you have Richard Shepard, who wrote and directed this romp.  We all know that Jude is a very, very pretty man and what I love about him as an actor is that he rarely plays to his looks.  Keep making 'em like this, Jude, and save the pretty boy stuff for GQ, okay?

Lucky Them - Toni Collette, Thomas Haden Church

Disappointing!  SO disappointing!  This one felt stale.  Like it should have been released in the 80s.  And I'm saying this as a person who loves the 80s.  Thomas was fantastic, Toni was fine but I didn't buy any of this.  I'm not going to trouble you with the lame-o plot.  And I'm going to give you a spoiler:  the best part of this movie was the cameo by a non-Claire's Accessories- wearing Johnny Depp.  Sorry.  But, really, don't bother.

Bad Words - Jason Bateman, Kathryn Hahn, Allison Janney

Oh my Lord, Jason Bateman!  In his directorial debut, no less!  Playing a bitter, biting and angry man who finds a loophole in the rules and competes in a Spelling Bee to exact revenge, Jason will make you cringe.  Continuously.  But you will laugh so hard.  So.  Hard.  Loved this.  The spoken words here are not for the faint of heart, but with stellar performances and kick ass humour this is absolutely one to be seen.  And did I mention it all takes place at a Spelling Bee?  Perfection! 

Paradise - Andres Almeida, Daniela Rincon

Produced by those 2 hot dudes from Y Tu Mama Tambien, this film tells the story of childhood sweethearts who uncover a rift in their relationship when they both embark on a weight loss program but only one sees any tangible success.  The film had its sweet moments, and deals with the issues of body image, acceptance, change and insecurity quite delicately.  My Mom thought it was "okay".

The Lunchbox - Irrfan Khan

This film was a last minute addition to our film schedule, and it was really the perfect way to end the Fest.  That the film was written and directed by my pal Jess' pal, Ritesh Batra, who she met at NYU was a complete surprise, and I only found this out when we met Jess, also by surprise, in line.  Ritesh took this movie to Cannes, it was picked up and is now making its way through the Film Fest circuit and charming audiences along the way.  Quite the dream come true, no?  The film is indeed a charming romantic not - quite - comedy about a relationship of affection that is drawn out in the most innocent way - anonymous letters.  Remember those?!  It's a soft little story, almost fable - like, and absolutely recommendable!  And Mom liked it too!

-
Oh man ... there we have it.  19 films (+ one talk) over the 10 day Fest.  I feel like a bit of a slacker!  And a bit of an insane-o.  While this was my least attended TIFF in years, I'll make a grand pronouncement and say that film for film it was my best - even with those 3 clunkers.  There were deep ones, light ones, disturbing ones, feel good ones.  We dealt with themes of freedom, perseverance, love, isolation and redemption.  I hit for the cycle in terms of seeing the most buzzed about films, but also saw a few hidden gems that I hope resonate with others the way they did with me (I'm looking at you, Eleanor Rigby!).I can't wait to see how these films are discussed and viewed when they are released - some just weeks away.   

So after this overwhelmingly successful TIFF schedule and two killer vacations - neither of which I spent more than maybe a nanosecond participating in the planning of, I think it's fair to say that I should take a back seat on the planning process going forward and just rely on that Little Help From My Friends.  Huh. Maybe.  I sure am out of practice.  Maybe time to plan a party, me thinks.  Surely my friends can help with that.

Here's a little lost gem from my newfound gem - yes, Eleanor Rigby.  Again.

TIFF 2013 - With a Little Help From My Friends - Volume 2

Well, all right.  Here we are, not even halfway in and I'm already completely bagged.  This is what happens when you are completely insane and think it's feasible to work a full time job (no days off for this poor lass), see 22 films and maintain some semblance of normal life.  From all accounts thus far, the normal life and "work" the full time job will have to take a back seat.  Not really a big surprise - priorities, right?

I'm thinking, though, that perhaps my feelings of exhaustion aren't really due to the physical, but actually the emotional.  I've seen so many heartwrenching films in these past few days, they have left me somewhat numb, worse still, they are all based on real life events so you can't pass the stories off as 'well, yeah, that sucks but it could never really happen', because all this stuff did.  Note for next year:  more comedies!

In the interest of my own sanity, I'm going to pump out my reviews out as I can rather than post daily this year.   It's too much, lovebugs!  It's just TOO MUCH!

12 Years A Slave - Chiwetel Ejiofor, Michael Fassbender, Benedict Cumberbatch, Lupita Nyong'o

Perhaps the most buzzed about film coming to TIFF this year, we knew 12 Years wasn't going to be easy.  At the hands of Steve McQueen, this historical drama depicting the most stunning 12 years in the life of Solomon Northrup, a free man living his life in Saratoga, New York deceptively kidnapped and sold into slavery in the mid 1800's, is brutal and hard to watch and cringe worthy and awful.  And absolutely one of the best films I've seen at TIFF.  The topic of slavery is rarely dealt with in American cinema (ironic that two films on the topic have been released in short time), perhaps for fear of not being respectful or maybe more so of not wanting to bring up the past.  This was a disgusting time in American history - selling deeds of ownership on human beings, whippings, hangings, the list of humiliations goes on and on - why drudge?  But we have to.  We have to know what was done to make sure it's not done again.  To know that it's over and it was wrong and now things are markedly different.  There is no better person to bring these themes to the screen than director McQueen.  He holds uncomfortable subject matter in such a fine balance that as an audience you are at once repulsed and yet are eager to see, learn and know more.  He did it in Hunger, in Shame and now 12 Years.  With all stories of human suffering, we need to feel a hope even within the most deep pits of despair and for this we turn to Chiwetel Ejiofor, playing Northrup (and Platt, the name he was given when he was sold).  This performance was measured, tight and raw.  We felt his rage, his grief, his sorrow - but always within that, a small sliver of maybe.  Maybe this is not the end.  Joining Chiwetel in groundbreaking performances are Michael Fassbender, McQueen's partner in crime who seems to get better and better in every role he's in.  Here, playing a vile slave owner, he is a bastard of the highest order and it's magnetic.  In a surprise, Sarah Poulson is equally diabolical as his wife torturing and taunting Lupita Nyong'o's Patsy with such inner glee you really see the meaning of the word evil.

The entire cast was on hand at the Q&A,and this is why I love TIFF.  A team of collaborators on stage, proudly talking about their work and taking questions from a raptured audience.  McQueen spoke of the distinction between an artist and an actor - stressing that here, everyone on screen was an artist.  We all agreed.

Parkland - Paul Giammati, Billy Bob Thorton

You win some, you lose some.  This one goes decidedly in the loss column.  Detailing the stories of real life people who witnessed and were involved in the Kennedy assasination seems like a new twist on a very well trodden story.  Unfortunately, this film left like a Grade 12 history project.  It lacked focus and was full of head shaking scenes, melodramatic music and flat acting.  The only bright spots were Jacki Weaver and James Badge Dale playing Lee Harvey Oswald's mother and brother respectively.

 The Railway Man - Colin Firth, Nicole Kidman

This is a beautiful, yet harrowing, story of suffering and forgiveness.  Colin plays real life Eric Lomax, a man caught in a Japanese POW camp during WW2.  He is mercilessly tortured during his time there, and is plagued with this torment for most of his adult life.  It is through the love of his wife, Patsy, played with perfect resolve and sympathy by Nicole, that he is able to overcome these inner demons and finally live his true life.  The film deals with the worst and best of humanity.  It is richly shot, well scored and brilliantly acted - Colin & Nicole, we know, are incredible but the young Jeremy Irvine, equally shines playing the young Eric.  On hand at the Q&A are the principle cast, director, writer and also Patsy Lomax.  Sadly, Eric Lomax died in 1992 and was not able to see the final film.  Director Jonathan Tepiltzsky remarked that it was okay - there was nothing in this film that Eric did not know.  He lived it. 

Labor Day - Kate Winslet, Josh Brolin

Adapted for the screen and directed by Jason Reitman, this was a unique love story about two very different lost souls looking for a fresh start.  The film is somewhat of a departure for Jason as it isn't biting or wry.  It's real and emotional, and with patience very rewarding.  Apparently, Jason waited a year for Kate to be available to play the depressed Adele and good on him for doing so - she was really stellar as was Josh.  We learn at the Q&A that he makes a damn good pie.  Like, we really needed more?! Come. On. 

Dallas Buyers Club - Matthew McConaughey, Jared Leto, Jennifer Garner

Another real life story here, this one based on the life of Ron Woodroof.  A hard nosed homophobe bull rider who contracts AIDS and sets up an elaborate drug smuggling enterprise to get him - and his fellow AIDS sufferers - much needed unapproved and therefore unavailable medications to treat the disease.  Overall, the film dragged a bit but it was saved by the stellar performances of Matthew & Jared.  These past few years have seen Matthew transform his career from 'that romantic comedy guy' to a solid actor taking chances.  Good for him.  He's the real deal, and in this performance maintains a perfect balance between Ron's complete asshole ways and his unrelenting drive to do what's right.  Jared gives good girl as Matthew's surprising partner in crime.  You'll be hearing more about this one come award season to be sure.

Philomena - Steve Coogan, Judi Dench

Enough of the real life sad stories!  My god, this one was tough.  Uber talented Steve Coogan adapted this story, and stars alongside the remarkable Judi.  The film is a heartbreaking account of a mother looking for the son she gave up for adoption.  The circumstances surrounding this adoption are controversial at best, and Philomena is roadblocked at every turn. With the help of Steve's journalist Martin, she finds the answers she is looking.  The themes of loss and forgiveness are all dealt with amidst the hypocrisis and questions surrouding faith and the Catholic church.   This film could easily have gone the way of a melodramatic movie of the week, but with expert writing and acting it never, ever does.  Kudos to Steve Coogan for a terrific screenplay, which provided well placed humour along with the heartbreak.

In Conversation With .. Spike Jonze

So.  This was disappointing.  I think when you conduct an interview you should have an actual person who knows how to interview actually conducting the interview.  It may have seemed like a good idea to have fellow director Kelly Reichardt chat with Spike, but considering she didn't prepare any questions and could barely finish a sentence or thought, um, maybe not.  Spike is an interesting guy.  I wanted to know more about him and his choices.  I'll have to wait for his bio.

Gravity - Sandra Bullock, George Clooney

WOW.  I've never seen a film like this before.  It was beautiful.  And terrifying.  Sandra was incredible.  It was a marvel of technology without feeling like a CGI project.  We were all with her on this incredible journey.  I'm going to leave this as is.  There's much to say, but I wish for all to experience this fresh and raw - the story is simple and it's best for it to unfold naturally, without much forethought.  I will say that the Q&A was perfection.  Sandra is lovely.  Just lovely - spending a solid 45 minutes before the screening signing autographs and taking photos is not something all stars do, especially ones of her calibre, but she did and she's stunning and kind and gracious.  And wears incredible shoes.  And she thanked me for coming.  No joke.  Anyway, when she told us that when she won her Oscar she left completely unworthy and she vowed to spend the rest of her career earning that Oscar, you believe her.  You love her.  You love her more.    And just when you think it can't get better, real life Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield literally jumps the stage all rock star styles to answer a question directed at him (was all that space stuff real looking?).  God.  I love TIFF.


So, what have you guys been doing?

TIFF 2013 - With a Little Help From My Friends - Volume 1

And here we are once again, celebrating the magic of movies in my hometown for a madcap twelve days.

It's TIFF!*

Most years - every year - actual TIFF planning begins in early summer when packages must be secured and hints & tidbits on what films may be coming to Toronto circulate.   When the official schedule is released at the end of August, you only have about 3 days to get things in order and basically complete your TIFF Puzzle before tickets actually go on sale - sorting through hundreds of movies, making sure end / start times line up properly, and making it all work isn't easy.  Julie, Cres & I certainly have things down to a fine science at this point - being determined quick studies and all - but this year the team was going in one down.  I was out.  Out for pretty much the entire month of August on an epic South African adventure (more to come on that after this adventure, okay?) which left me helpless in TIFF investigating / planning / helping.  I left the girls with the following edict:  "You know me.  Do your best."

Well, do they ever.  Did they ever. 

And, again, I learn that it is simply not necessary to always drive.  Just as I was handed a perfectly planned itinerary for my trip of a lifetime to South Africa, I returned in late August to a TIFF schedule that I couldn't have planned better myself.  Of course I missed the fun of the actual planning - pouring over the hundreds of films, perfecting schedule gymnastics, planning dinners complete with laptops, iPads, pencils & erasers, all of it - but this just means I'll have to have more fun at the actual festival, right?  I know for damn sure I can do that.  I also know for damn sure that these friends of mine are, well, amazing.  As a perfect example, I take you to my premiere film ...

Only Lovers Left Alive - Tilda Swinton, Tom Hiddleston

I mean, come on.  It's TILDA!  The girls are not into this film at all - or perhaps other films peaked their interest a bit more - but they knew, they KNEW I'd be all over it.  I love these girls. 

It's pretty safe to say that if Tilda wasn't in this movie I wouldn't have touched it with a ten foot pole.  An epic love story - spanning centuries - between a pair of vampires who travel between the romantic cities of Tangiers and Detroit.  No joke.  Look, it's Jim Jarmusch.  He's a weirdo.  Tilda's a weirdo.  Tom became a weirdo.  Am I now a weirdo because I really, really loved this movie?

I loved Tilda playing the happy go lucky Eve to Tom's sullen Adam.  I loved the hazy way this was shot.  I loved the music, and the crisp one-liners that didn't at all seem out of place in this somewhat dark and sexy piece.  Tilda & Tom, together, are a perfectly suited sexy sinewy couple - they fit.  I got them.  I felt them.    We know Tilda can do it all (may I now mention that she's ALSO a fantastic dancer?!), but Tom was right there with her. Versatility in an actor never ceases to amaze me, and when you couple that with a full on commitment to character it packs a pretty powerful punch. These two pack it very hard.  Fulfilling the mystique of her character, Tilda wasn't there last night but Jim, Tom and supporting cast Mia Wasikowska and Anton Yelchin - both supurb - were.  Tom was delightful, as was Jim.  Bring on the weirdos!

As always, we're off to a rip roaring start.  Tonight, we're at 12 Years a Slave and Parkland.  Did I mention that my girls managed to snag tickets to the festivals biggest buzz films?  Did I mention I love my girls?  Did I mention that you can never go wrong when you rely on A Little Help From Your Friends?  It's true.  So, so true.

*As usual, technology is messing with me.  I'm having hardcore formatting issues with this stupid PC (like, why are you bolding my entire text you piece of sh&t?!).  Content remains the same, it just looks like crap.  I'm sorry. 


 

T is for ...

... Trip.

Oh yes, lovebugs. The big day is finally (almost) here. The day I embark on an adventure of epic proportions that, again, began with a simple sentence: "You must come with us." Well, who am I to (ever) say no?!

So, off I go to South Africa - a land, to me, of mystery and struggle and majesty and elephants. No joke. With apologies to Mr. Mandela, this is the first thing I think of when South Africa comes to mind. I hope to see many an elephant on my trip, along with ostriches and lions and zebras and giraffes and all those other exotic animals that I've only seen on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, storybooks and that pretty awesome fake-safari I took while in Disneyland a few years ago. Do you think this safari will be better than that?! Hehe.

I have no real idea what to expect. I'm looking over my itinery and my head is shaking, my eyes all buggy. We're doing what?! We're going where?! I had no hand in planning this trip at all. Imagine that. I'm away for three weeks on (one of) the most exotic vacations I've ever been on and the only things I did to get me there were win yet another friend lottery and book a plane ticket. You know, when I'm feeling a little down can y'all just remind me of this: That life, overall, is pretty damn great and if you look for ways it's not you're bound to find them SO STOP FUCKING LOOKING.

See you soon, lovebugs. Because guess where we're going in September? That's right - TIFF! Yet another amazing adventure that, this year, I will have no hand in planning. What's happening to me? I don't know. But I like it. Yes, yes I do.

T is for ... Trip.

S is for ...

.... Soundtrack.

About a year ago I received some rather horrible news from a close work friend and colleague of mine.  There's no way to sugar coat it, so here goes:  Non - Hodgkin's Lymphoma.  A 42 year old solid guy with 2 young children and a darling wife was now facing life in a tailspin as protocols and plans were being set out for his treatment. 

We all took it pretty hard at the office.  For all the prolonged eyerolling I do about the Type-A personality dudes I'm charged with wrangling, my workmates are pretty all right.  We've worked together so long and seen each other through the highs and lows of life that, at the risk of sounding corny, it's family - lite.  Adding to this of course is the harsh reality of capital C Cancer.  I mean, Jesus Christ, enough with this fucking disease already. 

He was off for awhile.  Calling and emailing to keep in touch, but also to keep his mind off that other thing.  The attitude was unreal - upbeat, positive, cheering us up that all was going to be okay.  After some months, chemo and, as he referred to it, his "Lex Luther do" - it was okay.  He returned to us - slighter in stature but absolutely stronger willed.

A few months after that, then, when he came into my office to tell me that his routine check up had discovered a stubborn node which had not responded to treatment, I was was frozen.  When he quietly broke the news to a few others, they, too, were frozen.  There would be more chemo.  There would be a stem cell transplant.  More drugs.  More pain.  More tears.  He was obviously deflated.  And scared.  It's difficult not to project your own past experience into things like this - after five and a half years I still can't really talk about everything that my Dad and family went through during his second round of chemo - it's just too painful, full of sadness and guilt and regret and anger - but I remember what happened when it was over:  he died.  I wanted things to be different this time, obviously, but what control did I have over anything.  What could I do?  Everyone at work felt the same way - we were devastated.

And this is sort of the thing.  We all felt like we'd been punched in the stomach - how does this happen?  Why does this happen?  What is going to happen?!  In my office, we're all a bunch of action oriented people - we DO, and if we can't do we tell you what YOU should DO.  This is just the way things are around here.  But what when you can't?  When you can't DO anything?  I work with a good many arrogant people but even they know (fine, me included) that we can't cure cancer.  We can't make the drug they give you to fix your cancer less of a killer.  We needed to find a way - in our own hearts and minds - to believe that he was going to be okay.  Whether we sought this out through God or Buddha or that little leprechaun on the box of Lucky Charms, we had to find it somewhere but even this wasn't enough.  Our inate instincts took over:  we needed to DO something.

So when one of my sweet officemates came to me with an idea of a Feel Good Soundtrack, I was all over it.  Everyone in the office was charged with providing me a list of two or three of their go-to feel good songs.  Songs that got them out of funk, got them grooving, got them feeling good, got them thinking of better days.  I was going to then take these songs, put them on an iPod Shuffle and hand it over.  It wouldn't change anything, but it would take his mind off things when he was sitting in that big chair for hours upon hours.  This was the best we could do.  This was good.

The songs came in fast and furious, some more nostalgically personal - feel good, others straight up dance your funk out - feel good, a few bang your head against the wall to forget your not feel-good, but they all meant something to each of us in some way.  I learned a little more about my office mates based on their selections, which was an added bonus.  I learned that iTunes is awesome, I mean, did you know their selection of Japanese pop is simply astounding?  I learned that regardless of how easy a project may seem to be, I will find a way to make it harder because technology never makes sense to me - I had download issues and hard drive issues but I wasn't deterred - this was happening.  I was doing it.  And, in perfect karma timing, my laptop competely busted the day after I finished.  Crazy.

When it was all said and done, there was 4 days worth of music on this Shuffle.  It sat in my office for weeks as we tried to schedule a visit but between his up / down energy levels, appointments and new medicine that made it painful for him to get out of bed and my summer of sick (sinusitus, bronchitis and overall too many germs to visit a guy with a non-existent immune system) this was proving impossible.  I waived the white flag and couriered it off last week.  A day later, I received a phone call and within two minutes we were both in tears.  The email he sent to everyone a day after that had us all in tears.

There's much to be said about the power of music,  but that's an obvious.  There's much to be said about the crummy cards we're often dealt in life, but that's depressing.  All I really want to say, and I realize I'm taking a very long time to say it, is that regardless of how powerless we feel, how hopeless things might be, how insurmountable our struggles are, we can always try.  Try to do something.  Try to make things better.  Try to see life outside ourselves.  Try to do something for someone that may not make sense to us, but will mean the world to them.  We have to take care of each other.  Our Feelgood Soundtrack is not going to cure his cancer.  But if all it can do is take his mind off that fucking cancer - and let him know that our minds are never far from him - I think that's a good thing.

S is for Soundtrack.

Because he always feels good after hearing The Boss.

R is for ...

... Real.

It was bound to happen.  Destined to end.

You know how it goes.  You skip through life, blissfully unaware of the horrors of reality until one day this skipping just stops.  Your former exuberate highs are now only depressing lows and the thing you once loved, sought out, needed, wanted and worked so fucking hard for is now just a symbol for the abject hatred formally reserved for Ticketmaster and Veganism.

I hate improv.

I hate how fucking hard it is.  I hate that the process of trying to get better is sucking the life out of me.  I talk too much.  I rely on words too much.  I push too hard in my scenes.  Excuse me?!?  YOU'VE JUST FUCKING DESCRIBED ME AS A PERSON!  WHAT THE FUCK NOW?!?!

So last night, after yet another soul crushing class I decided to stick around for a little jam session, because I figured it would be valuable to actually observe some fun rather than try to create some fun that actually turned to shit.  I stupidly put my name on the jam list and OF COURSE was called up on stage to play around with one my Improv heroes.  So imagine.  You've just basically had trouble playing, what, I don't know, Smoke on the Water on the guitar and before you know it Jimi Hendrix is calling you up for a jam session.  Nice.

My improv hero is awesome.  He does nothing, and is awesome.  He works it, and is awesome.  He's calm and intuitive and completely non-aggressive and so fucking quick and smart.  I mean, really, no pressure.  We were on a date.  On a Zombie Walk.  This is what happens in Improv.  I have no idea what I was doing.  Zombies were dying in front of us.  Helicopters were warning us of the imminent Zombie Apocalypse.  We managed to agree that, as a couple, Romeo & Juliet had a great little run.  This is what happens in Improv.  It was, by my own account, terrible.  I'm not good with too much extra (at this point I'm not good with much of anything but I know for damn sure I can't handle scenes where there is too much action taking away from the who/what/where/why do we care of the main characters - I get too confused and have a hard time committing).  It was too much extra.  I felt like such a fail.  After it's done of course you think of a million zillion different ways you could have played it, which is the worst thing you can do.  As a great teach once yelled to one of my classmates "STOP TELLING ME WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO DO AND JUST FUCKING DO IT", as you can see, there are no do-overs in Improv.

So, what now?  I have real questions: Am I thinking too hard?  Am I stressing too much?  Am I weighing myself down? Am I scared?  What the fuck am I doing?  With no real answers:  Maybe. I guess so.  Um Yeah?  Huh?  I don't know.  

I've lost all sense of instinctual confidence.  I've lost ALL confidence.  What the fuck now?  Am I supposed to quit before I get kicked out?  Is it time to stop deluding myself?  Am I to live my Improv life hugging the back wall?  Is it back to cooking classes?  Fuck, I don't know.    

Shit just got real, yo.

R is for Real.