More photos from my starring role as gonorrhea!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/67749380@N00/sets/72157600480505137
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Woo hoo Gonorrhea! 
Today was my first appearance in the Pride Parade, starring as Gonorrhea for the Planned Parenthood entry. We were a melody of STDs and a giant condom. The condom would go erect, then the diseases would try to attack and would be repelled back. I had the special place of being gonorrhea on roller skates to boot!
Today was my first appearance in the Pride Parade, starring as Gonorrhea for the Planned Parenthood entry. We were a melody of STDs and a giant condom. The condom would go erect, then the diseases would try to attack and would be repelled back. I had the special place of being gonorrhea on roller skates to boot!
It was packed - hundreds? Thousands of people lined 4th Avenue in downtown Seattle. We threw bracelets to the crowds that read "Love Carefully", which followed our message of Safe Sex is Sexy printed on our bright pink shirts. I crashed into another gonorrhea at one point and about half way through we ran out of bracelets and condoms.
I ran into some of my roller derby pals at the Seattle Center where the Parade ended, ate a gyro, corn-on-the-cob and listed to club music before taking the bus back downtown to get my car. I love parades and I was quite proud to be in this one...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
UFOs and such...
When I saw this comic the other day in the Seattle Times, I laughed out loud - on the bus. I remembered an incident, that makes my father laugh to this day, that occurred when I was walking home my friend Jeni Taylor. Her house was about a mile away off of of ol' state route 422. My street, the last street before her house, was a new neighborhood, essentially a street carved into old farm land. (And I mean old, it had everything you would expect in the woods like rusted nails, random barbed wire fences, old mattresses on the edge of the field, which was where our house was.)
In the summer time, she would come over to my house to hang out. In the 6th grade, we had a 9 p.m. curfew which meant it was dark in NE Ohio and undoubtedly hot and muggy. One night I was walking Jeni home, or atleast to the end of my street where she had to walk about 500 ft on the busy state road - often her Dad was often waiting for her at the end of their driveway. (Um, which is why I never "snuck out" -where the hell was I going to go? Into the woods with rusty nails? To the neighbors house with little kids? Until you drove, you were ISOLATED). We were heading to her place and it got progressively darker as we reached 422 as there were few houses at that end of the street - and no streetlights. Off in one of the old barns, there was a blinking orange light. In the barn. A blinking orange light. We looked at it for a minute and walked a little further trying to figure out what it was? A blinking orange light. Then our 6th grade minds races off - there could only be one thing in that barn - an alien. Holy crap.
We went back to my house, doing our best not to break off into a dead run, and searched for my dad. We didn't know what to tell him, so we told him the true. "There's an alien in the barn by the road." Of course the meant that he wouldn't drive Jeni home - he had to go check it out. (Damn!) He walked down the street and I think at one point we both might have grabbed his hands (long after it was cool to hold hands with your parents) and as we approached the barn, my dad looked for the blinking light..pause... Girls, it's just a construction barrel with a light on it...
Whatever. It totally was an alien. He just left before we were able to get back to the barn.
When I saw this comic the other day in the Seattle Times, I laughed out loud - on the bus. I remembered an incident, that makes my father laugh to this day, that occurred when I was walking home my friend Jeni Taylor. Her house was about a mile away off of of ol' state route 422. My street, the last street before her house, was a new neighborhood, essentially a street carved into old farm land. (And I mean old, it had everything you would expect in the woods like rusted nails, random barbed wire fences, old mattresses on the edge of the field, which was where our house was.)In the summer time, she would come over to my house to hang out. In the 6th grade, we had a 9 p.m. curfew which meant it was dark in NE Ohio and undoubtedly hot and muggy. One night I was walking Jeni home, or atleast to the end of my street where she had to walk about 500 ft on the busy state road - often her Dad was often waiting for her at the end of their driveway. (Um, which is why I never "snuck out" -where the hell was I going to go? Into the woods with rusty nails? To the neighbors house with little kids? Until you drove, you were ISOLATED). We were heading to her place and it got progressively darker as we reached 422 as there were few houses at that end of the street - and no streetlights. Off in one of the old barns, there was a blinking orange light. In the barn. A blinking orange light. We looked at it for a minute and walked a little further trying to figure out what it was? A blinking orange light. Then our 6th grade minds races off - there could only be one thing in that barn - an alien. Holy crap.
We went back to my house, doing our best not to break off into a dead run, and searched for my dad. We didn't know what to tell him, so we told him the true. "There's an alien in the barn by the road." Of course the meant that he wouldn't drive Jeni home - he had to go check it out. (Damn!) He walked down the street and I think at one point we both might have grabbed his hands (long after it was cool to hold hands with your parents) and as we approached the barn, my dad looked for the blinking light..pause... Girls, it's just a construction barrel with a light on it...
Whatever. It totally was an alien. He just left before we were able to get back to the barn.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
SNIFF, sniff
Tonight was my last SIFF volunteer shift. As my friend Katie stated and I concurred, it's a lot like summer camp. Last year, my first year, was fantastic! I saw 27 films, volunteered a gazillion hours, made tons of friends, went to parties and still managed to skate and have a great time! This year, volunteering was fun but I moved, had a wedding (in Mexico) right in the middle of the festival, saw only three films and just couldn't get my schedule to work out as well as I would have liked - though I did come out of it with one new friend - who is going to put together a circus workshop for my team.
I have the SIFF guide and some ideas of some films to watch... and next year to go back to summer camp again.
Tonight was my last SIFF volunteer shift. As my friend Katie stated and I concurred, it's a lot like summer camp. Last year, my first year, was fantastic! I saw 27 films, volunteered a gazillion hours, made tons of friends, went to parties and still managed to skate and have a great time! This year, volunteering was fun but I moved, had a wedding (in Mexico) right in the middle of the festival, saw only three films and just couldn't get my schedule to work out as well as I would have liked - though I did come out of it with one new friend - who is going to put together a circus workshop for my team.
I have the SIFF guide and some ideas of some films to watch... and next year to go back to summer camp again.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The Most Romantic and Beautiful Wedding Ever...
Claudia's and Justin's wedding was the most wonderful wedding - it was like being in a movie where Pacabel's Canon played over their vows, the sun broke through the clouds just in time for a sunset, the bride flirted endlessly during the Jewish ceremony and every single person danced. I'm sure I've seen this film and it was just as magical in real life.
Friday night's reception with the out-of-town guests (which was honestly everyone - 131 of us) started off this film. There was incredible food, mole pollo, beans, rice, the most delicious guac, coke and rums (or shots of tequila), a 12 piece mariachi band who played the most incredible music, more dancing, eating, meeting new people and leaving the rehearsal dinner at midnight to go have more drinks at a tequila bar before crashing out at 3:30 a.m. The bright sunshine on Saturday morning only begged for a bottle of water and aspirin (but it could have been much worse.)
I walked around town with my "roommate" Brandi whose starting residency for anaesthesia next week. We ate lunch at an organic, environmental restaurant (yep, even in Queretaro) where I learned all about her med school experience, the challenges that Claudia and other's trying to enter difficult fields such a dermatology faced. (They did not get residencies this summer as they wanted to be placed together. Justin's choice as an OB/GYN (who does abortion) has him in high demand where Claudia's choice in dermatology has her in severe competition.) We bought a couple of souvenirs (these fun little dolls) for our nieces and goddaughters made by the some of the more poor rural women who would come into town to sell their tourist tchotchkes. She reminded me of the dress that I was interested in buying and one look, she said, You have to get it- you'd regret it otherwise. And I did. Bright yellow. It was lively and more exciting than the other two I had brought along for the occasion.
We made it to the church just before 5 p.m. Storm clouds were brewing and wind whipped up leaves and dust - which it had done the night before but had amount to nothing. As soon as Claudia and her parents started down the isle, the rain came pouring down - loud. We listened to the ceremony in Spanish while glancing nervously at the down pour. Just as the bride and groom where on their second or third kiss, they shooed us out into the clearing sky. A few sprinkles and a few bubbles later, Claudia and Justin came bursting out and into their dressed up ancient car while we loaded up in to buses to head out to a "hacienda" (ranch) on the out skirts of town for the Jewish ceremony and reception.
The bus ride was longer than we expected but the results were gorgeous! This former hacienda spread out over acres of beautiful land. There was an incredible marble veranda with stone column fountains. Stepping out of the bus, we were greeted with cocktails and appetizers and a sunset. When the sun was finally down, the sabbath over, we started with the Jewish wedding. The hoopa was made by both of the mothers and beautiful. At one point in the ceremony, the bride makes circles around the husband (to seal the relationship, build a protective wall, etc.) and Claudia turned it into a flirty, seductive dance around him which had all of us laughing. The rabbi (whom everyone thought Justin flew in from St. Louis but was really just from one town over) told stories about them as a couple, they broke the glass and we headed into the actual "house" for the dinner.
The evening could haven't been more magical and we hadn't even started dancing! Another 10 piece band (complete with two dancers) played modern Latina musica, covered the Bee Gees, Gloria Gaynor, and other wedding favorites. After the initial dances of the bride and groom, parents, the party started. Nearly everyone was on the dance floor and something I had never seen before - the band brought props - every half hour or so. First there were balloons, then masks, paper glasses, straw cowboy hats, hands (on a stick) - it was hilarious. We drank all of the wine, liqueur, ate the cake and when the buses came to get us at 1:30 a.m. (the staff was tearing down the tables) no one wanted to leave. They finally stopped the music and we finally left...
Sunday morning, an exhausted but still very festive crowd showed up for "brunch" which of course was as much food as we had had at ever single other meal - we wished the bride and groom off (for three weeks in Italy.) The weekend wasn't over - a community orchestra who covering Sinatra tunes invited people to dance in the town square, a bit of shopping for super fun party shirt, dinner with some of the friends and a late night beer (finally - a beer) with some of the bridal party to capped off the weekend and the most fabulous wedding ever.
Claudia's and Justin's wedding was the most wonderful wedding - it was like being in a movie where Pacabel's Canon played over their vows, the sun broke through the clouds just in time for a sunset, the bride flirted endlessly during the Jewish ceremony and every single person danced. I'm sure I've seen this film and it was just as magical in real life.
Friday night's reception with the out-of-town guests (which was honestly everyone - 131 of us) started off this film. There was incredible food, mole pollo, beans, rice, the most delicious guac, coke and rums (or shots of tequila), a 12 piece mariachi band who played the most incredible music, more dancing, eating, meeting new people and leaving the rehearsal dinner at midnight to go have more drinks at a tequila bar before crashing out at 3:30 a.m. The bright sunshine on Saturday morning only begged for a bottle of water and aspirin (but it could have been much worse.)
I walked around town with my "roommate" Brandi whose starting residency for anaesthesia next week. We ate lunch at an organic, environmental restaurant (yep, even in Queretaro) where I learned all about her med school experience, the challenges that Claudia and other's trying to enter difficult fields such a dermatology faced. (They did not get residencies this summer as they wanted to be placed together. Justin's choice as an OB/GYN (who does abortion) has him in high demand where Claudia's choice in dermatology has her in severe competition.) We bought a couple of souvenirs (these fun little dolls) for our nieces and goddaughters made by the some of the more poor rural women who would come into town to sell their tourist tchotchkes. She reminded me of the dress that I was interested in buying and one look, she said, You have to get it- you'd regret it otherwise. And I did. Bright yellow. It was lively and more exciting than the other two I had brought along for the occasion.
We made it to the church just before 5 p.m. Storm clouds were brewing and wind whipped up leaves and dust - which it had done the night before but had amount to nothing. As soon as Claudia and her parents started down the isle, the rain came pouring down - loud. We listened to the ceremony in Spanish while glancing nervously at the down pour. Just as the bride and groom where on their second or third kiss, they shooed us out into the clearing sky. A few sprinkles and a few bubbles later, Claudia and Justin came bursting out and into their dressed up ancient car while we loaded up in to buses to head out to a "hacienda" (ranch) on the out skirts of town for the Jewish ceremony and reception.
The bus ride was longer than we expected but the results were gorgeous! This former hacienda spread out over acres of beautiful land. There was an incredible marble veranda with stone column fountains. Stepping out of the bus, we were greeted with cocktails and appetizers and a sunset. When the sun was finally down, the sabbath over, we started with the Jewish wedding. The hoopa was made by both of the mothers and beautiful. At one point in the ceremony, the bride makes circles around the husband (to seal the relationship, build a protective wall, etc.) and Claudia turned it into a flirty, seductive dance around him which had all of us laughing. The rabbi (whom everyone thought Justin flew in from St. Louis but was really just from one town over) told stories about them as a couple, they broke the glass and we headed into the actual "house" for the dinner.
The evening could haven't been more magical and we hadn't even started dancing! Another 10 piece band (complete with two dancers) played modern Latina musica, covered the Bee Gees, Gloria Gaynor, and other wedding favorites. After the initial dances of the bride and groom, parents, the party started. Nearly everyone was on the dance floor and something I had never seen before - the band brought props - every half hour or so. First there were balloons, then masks, paper glasses, straw cowboy hats, hands (on a stick) - it was hilarious. We drank all of the wine, liqueur, ate the cake and when the buses came to get us at 1:30 a.m. (the staff was tearing down the tables) no one wanted to leave. They finally stopped the music and we finally left...
Sunday morning, an exhausted but still very festive crowd showed up for "brunch" which of course was as much food as we had had at ever single other meal - we wished the bride and groom off (for three weeks in Italy.) The weekend wasn't over - a community orchestra who covering Sinatra tunes invited people to dance in the town square, a bit of shopping for super fun party shirt, dinner with some of the friends and a late night beer (finally - a beer) with some of the bridal party to capped off the weekend and the most fabulous wedding ever.
Friday, June 08, 2007
The perfect conversation...
I slept hard and woke up remembering that I was on a completely different spot on the globe. I was slow to rise and snagged a bit of the ¨contintential breakfast¨of toast and instant coffee. I love instant coffee when I´m traveling - it reminds me of traveling... I dropped my bag off at my next hotel where I´m staying for the wedding festivities and hit the streets. I´m considering getting a bright orange dress for the wedding tomorrow as I brought a brown dress and the classic black cocktail but not thrilled with either of them. I visited parks, read my lonely planet, bought another pluma (pen) and found a little hole in the wall where I tried to order pollo mole enchaladas. It was completely comical as we couldn´t understand each other and she was asking me how many orders did I want and I kept telling her lemonade. Finally we decided she could revert to Ingles and I would answer in espanol and it worked. She loved my fish tattoo and when I finished my lunch the cook came out to talk to me.
He spoke English having spent the first 12 years of his life in New York City - his father moved the family back here to Queretaro when he was 12 and has hated him since then. He doesn´t like it here but has a plan to get back to the US. Because he was born there, he´s a citizen and he´s going to finish high school, work for a year, get his passport and go to college in the US. We talked about Queretaro, school, the funny things his parents use to do. (One time, they told me to get in the car, we were going somewhere. I told my friends I would be right back... 5 days later. My parents took us to Disney World. That was fun.) I told him about the wedding I was going to and how Mexico was sooooo clean compared to Africa, for example. (That was the only way I was able to excuse myself for not knowing Spanish - most of my travels were in Africa and the Middle East, not Mexico.) I told him I definitely wanted to come back. I paid my bill and left him a $10 bill (american dollar) and told him to save it towards his passport. I honestly thought he was going to cry. Good luck! We shook hands and I went across the street to the art museum of Queretaro.
It was the perfect conversation, not because he wanted to go back to the States but because we could actually converse, make jokes, talk about things. He was local who spoke English. I was remembering my trip to Cuba last night and it was fun to have a travel companion. However, my travel partner did not want to go out and meet ¨the local people¨- he was content to hang out with touristas. I am not. I need to talk to people, anyone, just about life, how things are here (where ever I may be), the issues, problems, joys, etc. It made me happy.
The art musuem was great - lots of pictures of Jesus and a modern section, that they were painting (had taken the art and put it on the floor). There were nets to keept the birds out of the square. The city is designed a lot like old Jerusalem or what I imagine Italy would be like. The streets are tight and one-way but open into patios, restaurts, shops, etc. It´s a whole other world behinds the doors.
I slept hard and woke up remembering that I was on a completely different spot on the globe. I was slow to rise and snagged a bit of the ¨contintential breakfast¨of toast and instant coffee. I love instant coffee when I´m traveling - it reminds me of traveling... I dropped my bag off at my next hotel where I´m staying for the wedding festivities and hit the streets. I´m considering getting a bright orange dress for the wedding tomorrow as I brought a brown dress and the classic black cocktail but not thrilled with either of them. I visited parks, read my lonely planet, bought another pluma (pen) and found a little hole in the wall where I tried to order pollo mole enchaladas. It was completely comical as we couldn´t understand each other and she was asking me how many orders did I want and I kept telling her lemonade. Finally we decided she could revert to Ingles and I would answer in espanol and it worked. She loved my fish tattoo and when I finished my lunch the cook came out to talk to me.
He spoke English having spent the first 12 years of his life in New York City - his father moved the family back here to Queretaro when he was 12 and has hated him since then. He doesn´t like it here but has a plan to get back to the US. Because he was born there, he´s a citizen and he´s going to finish high school, work for a year, get his passport and go to college in the US. We talked about Queretaro, school, the funny things his parents use to do. (One time, they told me to get in the car, we were going somewhere. I told my friends I would be right back... 5 days later. My parents took us to Disney World. That was fun.) I told him about the wedding I was going to and how Mexico was sooooo clean compared to Africa, for example. (That was the only way I was able to excuse myself for not knowing Spanish - most of my travels were in Africa and the Middle East, not Mexico.) I told him I definitely wanted to come back. I paid my bill and left him a $10 bill (american dollar) and told him to save it towards his passport. I honestly thought he was going to cry. Good luck! We shook hands and I went across the street to the art museum of Queretaro.
It was the perfect conversation, not because he wanted to go back to the States but because we could actually converse, make jokes, talk about things. He was local who spoke English. I was remembering my trip to Cuba last night and it was fun to have a travel companion. However, my travel partner did not want to go out and meet ¨the local people¨- he was content to hang out with touristas. I am not. I need to talk to people, anyone, just about life, how things are here (where ever I may be), the issues, problems, joys, etc. It made me happy.
The art musuem was great - lots of pictures of Jesus and a modern section, that they were painting (had taken the art and put it on the floor). There were nets to keept the birds out of the square. The city is designed a lot like old Jerusalem or what I imagine Italy would be like. The streets are tight and one-way but open into patios, restaurts, shops, etc. It´s a whole other world behinds the doors.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
A frog in my mouth... I arrived in Queretaro after two flights, a 2 hour bus ride and taxi to my hostel. The last time I was in a Spanish speaking country I had practice for three weeks before hand, had a traveling companion and felt more confident in my ability to speak. This time around, a variety of things kept me from hitting the language CDs (out first bout, the film festival, work, moving, etc.) and I find that I have a frog in my mouth - when all esle fails, I revert to French. Which isn´t Spanish. Close - but not really. And it´s kind of funny. And it´s completely frustrating - like having a frog in your mouth, chewing on words, trying to find what you want to say and lacking the knowledge... in Spanish. However, I found my hostel (whose ´return´key on the computer doesn´t work) and made my way down to the centro historico where there was a parade! Something was going on with the church. There was also a live band a huge sign about campaign to preventi cervical and breast cancer. I got ripped off, my one time that I allow per country, from a street vendor (who charged me the correct amount but then wanted a tip and when I offered the small coins I had, he took 3 times the cost of the meal, forturnately, I´m allowed to get ripped off - once.) But I didn´t care about the street vendor, as I was more interested in the parade, the people dancing in the historic square, and how much I didn´t quit stand out. Quite a modern city. I´ll be glad to explore the city more tomorrow and meet up with Claudia and her friends too.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Wonderlustful...
I leave for my first foray into Mexico on Thursday for Claudia and Justin's wedding. I've never been to Mexico and not for any good reason besides that I just wasn't interested - my heart lies in Africa and the Middle East...(though I salsa danced - a mix of son - Mexican music and Jazz - for almost 10 years and in my music collection the number of cds in Spanish is second to those in Portuguese. After pouring over my Mexico Lonely Planet guidebook this weekend, I can't wait to go!
Last night I booked a first night in a hostel in Queretaro (I have a couple of nights in a hotel for the wedding). I am looking forward to having to be "awake" because you don't know the language, culture, where you're going, etc. I'm looking forward to eating "street food" and going out in the evening. It's going to be a great time!
It's going to be 85 degrees the whole time... and raining.
I leave for my first foray into Mexico on Thursday for Claudia and Justin's wedding. I've never been to Mexico and not for any good reason besides that I just wasn't interested - my heart lies in Africa and the Middle East...(though I salsa danced - a mix of son - Mexican music and Jazz - for almost 10 years and in my music collection the number of cds in Spanish is second to those in Portuguese. After pouring over my Mexico Lonely Planet guidebook this weekend, I can't wait to go!
Last night I booked a first night in a hostel in Queretaro (I have a couple of nights in a hotel for the wedding). I am looking forward to having to be "awake" because you don't know the language, culture, where you're going, etc. I'm looking forward to eating "street food" and going out in the evening. It's going to be a great time!
It's going to be 85 degrees the whole time... and raining.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
The Things We Carry...
The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment certificates, C rations, and two or tree canteens of water. Together, these items weighted between 15 and 20 pounds, depending upon a man's habits or rate of metabolism... (from Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried.)
Franz Kafka's, The Castle, which I have never read, made it thru a fire and a trip across the county before I picked it up last week in my move and asked "why is this book coming with me? I have never read it, I probably won't and I can get the exact same translation from the library." I thought, as I looked at the small amount of stuff I had to move 10 blocks to my new apartment, why did I bring these things, why did I carry these things across 7 states when they were not "the necessities" or even the "near-necessities". Tim O'Brien's book, The Things They Carried, did make it across the county. Some books made it to and from West Africa. A few bit of jewelry made it from my childhood to now. Clothes I've kept through a few seasons (if they're not worn more than two in a row then they go to Goodwill), some letters, plays and my art. But when I look at it all, what are the important things we carry in our lives? Some of it was packed in boxes and moved to my beautiful, spacious, bright new apartment. Most of the things I value are not able to packed into a box - ever.
The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment certificates, C rations, and two or tree canteens of water. Together, these items weighted between 15 and 20 pounds, depending upon a man's habits or rate of metabolism... (from Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried.)
Franz Kafka's, The Castle, which I have never read, made it thru a fire and a trip across the county before I picked it up last week in my move and asked "why is this book coming with me? I have never read it, I probably won't and I can get the exact same translation from the library." I thought, as I looked at the small amount of stuff I had to move 10 blocks to my new apartment, why did I bring these things, why did I carry these things across 7 states when they were not "the necessities" or even the "near-necessities". Tim O'Brien's book, The Things They Carried, did make it across the county. Some books made it to and from West Africa. A few bit of jewelry made it from my childhood to now. Clothes I've kept through a few seasons (if they're not worn more than two in a row then they go to Goodwill), some letters, plays and my art. But when I look at it all, what are the important things we carry in our lives? Some of it was packed in boxes and moved to my beautiful, spacious, bright new apartment. Most of the things I value are not able to packed into a box - ever.
Friday, May 25, 2007
I love...
The Seattle International Film Festival which started this week. I love volunteering for it. I love going through the schedule, both online and through the book, and picking out films I absolutely have to see. I love the crazies that show up year after year (true of just about everything I do). I love the opportunity to see a story that I would never have the chance in the "mainstream" cinemas.
Last year, Kelly Rae and I saw a film that might be one of the best films I have ever seen - Gravehopping- it came from Slovenia and it was hilarious, charming, tragic, horrible and brilliant. I managed to see 27 films last year (not all like Gravehopping) of the hundreds offered at the festival.
There are a million stories all over the world and some of them get to be told thru film. One of my favorite directors is from Mauritania (is that a country? um, yes. The Moors, you know, from Northern Africa... oh yea) and he has a new film this year that I'm sure is going to be as great as the one I saw at FESPACO (Panafrican Film and Television Festival of Ouagadougou) in 1998. I've been participating in and volunteering for festivals for a long time and I love every single part of it from loosing track of time because you've seen three films in a row, to loosing a sense of physical being because you've been volunteering and on your feet all day, to loosing your sense of self because you have been inspired, shocked, awed or moved by a story go you got to see.
I LOVE the film festival. And between roller derby, volunteering, roller derby, work (oh yeah), moving and a wedding in Mexico - that is where you'll find me.
The Seattle International Film Festival which started this week. I love volunteering for it. I love going through the schedule, both online and through the book, and picking out films I absolutely have to see. I love the crazies that show up year after year (true of just about everything I do). I love the opportunity to see a story that I would never have the chance in the "mainstream" cinemas.
Last year, Kelly Rae and I saw a film that might be one of the best films I have ever seen - Gravehopping- it came from Slovenia and it was hilarious, charming, tragic, horrible and brilliant. I managed to see 27 films last year (not all like Gravehopping) of the hundreds offered at the festival.
There are a million stories all over the world and some of them get to be told thru film. One of my favorite directors is from Mauritania (is that a country? um, yes. The Moors, you know, from Northern Africa... oh yea) and he has a new film this year that I'm sure is going to be as great as the one I saw at FESPACO (Panafrican Film and Television Festival of Ouagadougou) in 1998. I've been participating in and volunteering for festivals for a long time and I love every single part of it from loosing track of time because you've seen three films in a row, to loosing a sense of physical being because you've been volunteering and on your feet all day, to loosing your sense of self because you have been inspired, shocked, awed or moved by a story go you got to see.
I LOVE the film festival. And between roller derby, volunteering, roller derby, work (oh yeah), moving and a wedding in Mexico - that is where you'll find me.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Sometimes....You forget to write about things that you spent the whole week talking about.... being exhausted, excited and thrilled about.
This past weekend, that occupied all of the chatter at my work, for so many of my coworkers had come out to participate, was the first Jet City Roller Girls expo (mini) bout. The four teams on the league played each other for a series of 15 minute "bouts"(games). It was one of those evenings that went off without a problem (besides not winning) and seemed to have a dash of luck everywhere. At 3 p.m. when we arrived, there was a tent set up for the skaters, our very own "greenroom" complete with very healthy and tasty snacks. There was a lot of hurry-up-and-wait as the Everett Skate Deck had their public skate going on. At 4:30 p.m. there were still 100 little kids skating around. We had to transform the rink into a entertaining venue that could seat 700 people (!) for we had sold out. And we did!
It went by so fast - as I expected that it would. CarnEvil lost both bouts but only by a jam or two (meaning if we had had 4 more minutes we could have come back.) Suffice it to say, it was great fun and below are links to photos taken from the bout.
Because I've been talking about it all week.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
While driving...
Starting July 1st, you can get a very expensive ticket in Washington for driving while talking on the phone. This annoys me for I drive up to Everett for practice and sometimes have my best conversations in the 25 minutes it takes to get up there. I'm always willing to hang up or put my phone down when I need both hands and I consider myself a really good driver. Today, on my way into work, I decided I would see what everyone else does in their car to distract them besides talking on the phone.
There was a woman behind me (then besides, in front and back behind me) who was putting on her make-up and it wasn't just a little lipstick and blush, she had a full makeover going in her car; a Comcast driver next to me was smoking; another man was eating his McMuffin and talking on the phone and another woman had her convertible top down clearly enjoying the morning sunshine in Seattle. There were very few other distracted drivers (besides the one watching everyone else who was possibly a bigger hazard.)
I turned off Broadway onto Pine, jogging through some other morning thoughts in my head (having decided that people weren't all that distracted) when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone running to my car - my heart started racing - were my doors locked? Who is the person trying to get into my car while I'm at a stop light (right by the police station!). As soon as I had addressed my safety in the situation I found myself trying to unlock my doors and move the CDs off the passenger's seat as it was my very good friend Louise. She hops in the car and in the same breath, "Sorry, Michelle. I knew this would freak you out. I missed my bus and was going to be late when I saw your car and thought, Go for it! But it's totally going to freak her out." Did it ever.
And adding to the theme this morning was the CNN article about road rage - Seattle being rated as one of the nicest (though we often call it passive/aggressive) drivers in the country.
Starting July 1st, you can get a very expensive ticket in Washington for driving while talking on the phone. This annoys me for I drive up to Everett for practice and sometimes have my best conversations in the 25 minutes it takes to get up there. I'm always willing to hang up or put my phone down when I need both hands and I consider myself a really good driver. Today, on my way into work, I decided I would see what everyone else does in their car to distract them besides talking on the phone.
There was a woman behind me (then besides, in front and back behind me) who was putting on her make-up and it wasn't just a little lipstick and blush, she had a full makeover going in her car; a Comcast driver next to me was smoking; another man was eating his McMuffin and talking on the phone and another woman had her convertible top down clearly enjoying the morning sunshine in Seattle. There were very few other distracted drivers (besides the one watching everyone else who was possibly a bigger hazard.)
I turned off Broadway onto Pine, jogging through some other morning thoughts in my head (having decided that people weren't all that distracted) when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone running to my car - my heart started racing - were my doors locked? Who is the person trying to get into my car while I'm at a stop light (right by the police station!). As soon as I had addressed my safety in the situation I found myself trying to unlock my doors and move the CDs off the passenger's seat as it was my very good friend Louise. She hops in the car and in the same breath, "Sorry, Michelle. I knew this would freak you out. I missed my bus and was going to be late when I saw your car and thought, Go for it! But it's totally going to freak her out." Did it ever.
And adding to the theme this morning was the CNN article about road rage - Seattle being rated as one of the nicest (though we often call it passive/aggressive) drivers in the country.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Dreaming in Spanish....
Actually I dreamt that I was thinking in French and translating it into Spanish because for some reason in my head it was easier to go from French to Spanish than English to Spanish. And it was a complicated conversation - not like "where is the bathroom" but more like "the state of the economy in southern Florida..." Oy. My subconscious was telling me I had better get that hotel room booked for Claudia's wedding in June - in Mexico City (actually north of the city.) And so I did - this morning - with the help of a colleague who most likely dreams in Spanish and enjoys any opportunity to speak it.
This evening, my team, CarnEvil met at Pounders to sell merch, promote our upcoming bout and just hang out. It was a great time with the band giving us plenty of shout-outs and the owner wanting us to come back (we will!) This Saturday is our league's "friends and family" mini-expo bout. It's an opportunity to get a sneak peak at who we are and give the community an idea of where we're going. And I would be so excited but there are a million details - ok, maybe only 200,000 but enough to keep one's mind focused on things like bleachers and programs. I'm sure I'll be psyched about it at like 5:35 p.m. on Saturday - after the doors have opened at 5:30 p.m. I'm sure I'll be super excited then.
Actually I dreamt that I was thinking in French and translating it into Spanish because for some reason in my head it was easier to go from French to Spanish than English to Spanish. And it was a complicated conversation - not like "where is the bathroom" but more like "the state of the economy in southern Florida..." Oy. My subconscious was telling me I had better get that hotel room booked for Claudia's wedding in June - in Mexico City (actually north of the city.) And so I did - this morning - with the help of a colleague who most likely dreams in Spanish and enjoys any opportunity to speak it.
This evening, my team, CarnEvil met at Pounders to sell merch, promote our upcoming bout and just hang out. It was a great time with the band giving us plenty of shout-outs and the owner wanting us to come back (we will!) This Saturday is our league's "friends and family" mini-expo bout. It's an opportunity to get a sneak peak at who we are and give the community an idea of where we're going. And I would be so excited but there are a million details - ok, maybe only 200,000 but enough to keep one's mind focused on things like bleachers and programs. I'm sure I'll be psyched about it at like 5:35 p.m. on Saturday - after the doors have opened at 5:30 p.m. I'm sure I'll be super excited then.
Monday, May 07, 2007
The Full Moon is the mother of all children
is how the saying went in Cote d'Ivoire when there was a full moon hanging in the sky. Kids would stay out all night and play – you could hear their laughter until well after midnight. Everyone generally stayed up just a little later – it wasn’t quite so dark – casting all kinds of shadows. In the retail/service world, when “the public” would start to get slightly crazy it would only take a second before someone would run to the back office to check the calendar – sure enough it was a full moon.
The full moon last week wreaked havoc - permeating many relationships– many break ups, separations, sick children, (even a natural disaster) and a general sadness that came in more bunches than 3’s. (There were a couple of humorous incidents that could also have been blamed on the “fool” moon.). At the end of some of these sad evenings, you had to wonder if there wasn’t something to all the mythology about the moon.
Luckily, it’s just a phase.
is how the saying went in Cote d'Ivoire when there was a full moon hanging in the sky. Kids would stay out all night and play – you could hear their laughter until well after midnight. Everyone generally stayed up just a little later – it wasn’t quite so dark – casting all kinds of shadows. In the retail/service world, when “the public” would start to get slightly crazy it would only take a second before someone would run to the back office to check the calendar – sure enough it was a full moon.
The full moon last week wreaked havoc - permeating many relationships– many break ups, separations, sick children, (even a natural disaster) and a general sadness that came in more bunches than 3’s. (There were a couple of humorous incidents that could also have been blamed on the “fool” moon.). At the end of some of these sad evenings, you had to wonder if there wasn’t something to all the mythology about the moon.
Luckily, it’s just a phase.
Monday, April 30, 2007
A quiet month for writing...
of course that doesn't mean I don't have anything to say as I generally have an opinion about everything - whether or not you want to know about it. Lately my late nights have been filled with derby doings and conversations about other things - enough that they haven't made their way to my blog. But that will change soon enough...
I can keep that promise.
of course that doesn't mean I don't have anything to say as I generally have an opinion about everything - whether or not you want to know about it. Lately my late nights have been filled with derby doings and conversations about other things - enough that they haven't made their way to my blog. But that will change soon enough...
I can keep that promise.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
A whirlwind tour home, a p-patch and helmet panties...
I went home on Friday, April 13th for the peanuts' 2nd birthday! I arrived at my brother's house around midnight - just in time to play wii bowling with brother-in-laws and stay up until 5 a.m. engrossed in conversation about a lot of nothing-important but important just the same. Saturday was running errands and actually throwing a party for two very fabulous tw0-year olds. With utter bias, they have to be two of the most well behaved toddlers I know... when you tell them they have to open their presents later, they actually listen... Sunday evening I zoomed up to Cleveland to meet some friends out for dinner and later some more friends for drinks. Everyone on Monday, was seriously, scheduled for two-hour visits starting at 10 a.m. It was kind of crazy, kind of fun and the easiest way to see a gazillion people. Tuesday morning I was zooming back down to Cinci to catch my 1 p.m. plane back to Seattle - 8 hours of driving for 20 hours of Cleveland... totally worth it.
This Sunday I was introduced to my P-Patch. We were having a P-Patch meeting and it was very easy to tell which one was mine - the one growing very robust dandelions and grass. A fellow p-patcher helped me weed it down to a reasonable brown dirt as I volunteer to figure out a way to properly get the water barrel system set up. This weekend are plans for mint, cilantro, basil, carrots and other delicious starters to find their way into my patch.
But tonight I am sewing helmet panties for my team. Yes, they're called helmet panties - which might be the funniest word to say - even. They're the covers used in roller derby to denote who is the pivot (with a stripe) and who is the jammer (with a star). I made a bunch for our league for scrimmaging but now we need them in team colors, etc. I'm making them for my team and the Honeys. (The photo indicates that JoJo Stiletto's helmet is the jammer - photo by Jules from this past weekend's RCRG bout.) The thing about sewing it that it taps into that incredible creative energy. I could easily stay up the entire night and sew - without ever getting tired. I love it.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The Pho Revolution
I have finally joined the pho revolution - the phase where people decide that they are completely in love with soup containing beef and noodles originally from Vietnam. My friends tell me at work how they were addicted to it at first - or that's all they ate in college - or they know the 5 top pho places in Seattle. The first time I tried pho was at #1 Pho in Cleveland's "Chinatown". And I couldn't stand it. I am barely a meat eater and ordering one of the most popular dishes meant raw meat. I looked at it in my soup, poked at it and decided I couldn't eat it. I tried to drink the broth and in the end, decided this was not the food for me. No thanks. I barely like soup (my dislike of salt is at the root of this problem.) Pho is not for me.
Fast forward 4 years or so and I find myself in Seattle, where like lots of west coast cities I can find more pho varieties than I imagined possible (but I'll be damned if I can find a good Lebanese deli!) I wasn't interested. If we went to a pho place for a meeting, I had anything but pho. Not raw beef, gross noodle soup for me. A friend convinced me to try Pho Cycle in Capitol Hill and I tried a non-soup dish and tried some of hers. She told me the point to the raw meat was to let it cook in the steaming hot soup (oh!). Finally, early in December, at the beginning of my getting sick, I decided I would drink up some soup to avert my illness and tired pho - veggie pho and it was fantastic! I created my own special designs with the hot sauce and oyster sauce (I makes stars in my soup with each one.) I'm sure to add the lime and lots of basil and now I rather enjoy it - the veggie one that is.
Friday night, that beautiful evening, I had pho. I had it again on Sunday when it was cold and rainy and last night (starting to feel under the weather again.) Three times in one week. I've joined the pho revolution!
I have finally joined the pho revolution - the phase where people decide that they are completely in love with soup containing beef and noodles originally from Vietnam. My friends tell me at work how they were addicted to it at first - or that's all they ate in college - or they know the 5 top pho places in Seattle. The first time I tried pho was at #1 Pho in Cleveland's "Chinatown". And I couldn't stand it. I am barely a meat eater and ordering one of the most popular dishes meant raw meat. I looked at it in my soup, poked at it and decided I couldn't eat it. I tried to drink the broth and in the end, decided this was not the food for me. No thanks. I barely like soup (my dislike of salt is at the root of this problem.) Pho is not for me.
Fast forward 4 years or so and I find myself in Seattle, where like lots of west coast cities I can find more pho varieties than I imagined possible (but I'll be damned if I can find a good Lebanese deli!) I wasn't interested. If we went to a pho place for a meeting, I had anything but pho. Not raw beef, gross noodle soup for me. A friend convinced me to try Pho Cycle in Capitol Hill and I tried a non-soup dish and tried some of hers. She told me the point to the raw meat was to let it cook in the steaming hot soup (oh!). Finally, early in December, at the beginning of my getting sick, I decided I would drink up some soup to avert my illness and tired pho - veggie pho and it was fantastic! I created my own special designs with the hot sauce and oyster sauce (I makes stars in my soup with each one.) I'm sure to add the lime and lots of basil and now I rather enjoy it - the veggie one that is.
Friday night, that beautiful evening, I had pho. I had it again on Sunday when it was cold and rainy and last night (starting to feel under the weather again.) Three times in one week. I've joined the pho revolution!
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Easter...Happy Easter! Or happy sunny Sunday (morning at least) or if you're sittin' miserable in the Midwest, brrrrrr. I heard on Friday that the Cleveland Indian's Home Opener was snowed out. The double header then scheduled for Saturday was snowed into a triple header for Sunday when in the end, Cleveland just has to invite the Seattle Mariners back another day. So while I was enjoying an 80 degree Friday worth going home for, people where going home early to avoid snarled traffic.
A couple of my friends and I were talking about Easter and their rituals around it. A lot of hidden eggs and candy - mostly outside. This picture reminds me maybe of an Easter or two in my childhood where there was snow, but our candy was hidden throughout the house and not outside so we were never scrounging around in snow, or wet grass. One of the best Easters ever was when we were driving home from visiting our grandparents in Denver to West Virgina over Easter. My brothers and I fell asleep in the car (it's like a 2 day drive so that happened often) and when we awoke the Easter Bunny had been to see us - in the car! We were shocked and amazed to see the candy he had left. When I asked my dad what happened, he said he saw the Easter Bunny hitchhiking on the side of the road so he gave him a lift. I couldn't believe it! And I couldn't believe he didn't wake any of us up for it.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Sunshine - we're all drunk.
Today was the third day of sunshine and the warmest by far. Today was a day that people left work early or were dismissed by their bosses because it was so beautiful out. Today was a day that native Seattleites said to transplants "this is the reason you're here - right?" Those same native Pacific Northwesterns say things like "You'd think after 46 years (his whole life) I would get use to never seeing the sun. But I just feel so much better. Don't you feel better?"
Today was a day, after leaving work early because my boss told me too (plus I'm working tomorrow), I skated at Myrtle Edwards Park (on the Sound - beautiful!) and skated and skated. I would have skated for hours looping up hills, around bikers and other wheeled people - if I wasn't completely starving after an hour (forgot snacks.) I couldn't get enough sun. I went and washed my car (amazingly popular Friday evening activity when it's 70 degrees.) I had a snack and on such a day, couldn't find a way to want to do laundry - just yet. I walked to my P-Patch. Kids were out playing, people were walking around everywhere. I ran into my friends Dani and Derika. I wanted to dig in the dirt (but I didn't know which patch was mine.) It was a beautiful day and became a beautiful evening... and for once I had nothing planned - except for enjoy the sunshine.
Today was the third day of sunshine and the warmest by far. Today was a day that people left work early or were dismissed by their bosses because it was so beautiful out. Today was a day that native Seattleites said to transplants "this is the reason you're here - right?" Those same native Pacific Northwesterns say things like "You'd think after 46 years (his whole life) I would get use to never seeing the sun. But I just feel so much better. Don't you feel better?"
Today was a day, after leaving work early because my boss told me too (plus I'm working tomorrow), I skated at Myrtle Edwards Park (on the Sound - beautiful!) and skated and skated. I would have skated for hours looping up hills, around bikers and other wheeled people - if I wasn't completely starving after an hour (forgot snacks.) I couldn't get enough sun. I went and washed my car (amazingly popular Friday evening activity when it's 70 degrees.) I had a snack and on such a day, couldn't find a way to want to do laundry - just yet. I walked to my P-Patch. Kids were out playing, people were walking around everywhere. I ran into my friends Dani and Derika. I wanted to dig in the dirt (but I didn't know which patch was mine.) It was a beautiful day and became a beautiful evening... and for once I had nothing planned - except for enjoy the sunshine.
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