to-do: see the tetons at dawn in real life

This is Alby. Not as sweet or wonderful as Fergie, but way up there in the sweet and wonderful dog category.

Alby belongs to Josh, one of the two filmmakers who made the documentary 10mph (www.10mph.com), which is about two guys who quit their cube farm jobs and ride a segway from seattle to new york. I worked on this documentary for several months last year, but parted ways when I discovered that the film was taking a pretty mean turn. (Never work for free if things get sketchy!)

I helped log part of the 180 hours of footage they had-- filled with images of the tetons at dawn, Alby trotting behind the segway across entire states, my favorite bridge in Poughkeepsie New York, hells angels, smoke jumpers, Nez Perce Indians, farmers, new mothers, an entire fleet of chicago police on segways, interviews with fascinating people, slapstick, drama, battery changes-- it was the stuff a fun indie documentary is made of. But Hunter and Josh took the route that most young filmmakers want to make, which was to cast the journey aside and focus on the sexy conflict: funding problems, and people they didn't like, namely their friend Pat who was putting thousands of dollars into the project to fund it (from afar) and Alon, the young man who helped them without pay or camera time, and is only ever referred to as "Intern," or when he goes to the hospital with a kidney stone, "Wuss".

It was interesting to see this film play in Boulder-- to see Hunter & Josh in person again and see a whole theater full of people who paid $6.50 to see the documentary. My friends came to see it with me, and we all giggled at the funny parts, got fidgety during the boring parts, and turned to each other to make 3rd grade gagging motions when we discovered that (unsurprisingly) I been completely left out of the credits, and another female editor in the crowd had been left out of the credits as well. Pat the Evil Villain (who of course had no idea he was being slammed) was sitting behind me, just in from the East coast to see the film.

It was childish of them, and the documentary was a good example of how film and arrogance can get too close for comfort. All exasperations aside, it was really fun to see something playing in a festival that I'd seen from the post-production phase. I used to go from 9 hour days serving espresso straight to Denver with coffee in my shoes and sit down to log tapes, attend a screening with other young editors, and argue about shot sequences. I used to head home from teaching a two hour cello lesson and a shoot up in the mountains to a room full of thousands of cds that needed to be turned into a soundtrack. The soundtrack came out great-- it was so exciting to hear the bands and songs that had poured in with notes, "please put us in your film! We've never been out of Arkansas, but we can rock!"

It gave me a little dose of film-geekdom again, and I felt excited-- someday, and soon if I'm lucky, I'll have a film crew or a cast of co-workers who I spend my days with, and even though we might have coffee in our socks and tips in our back pockets, we all get up in the morning yearning for the editing bay, the fine tip sharpie and the legal pad, the f-stop, the cello strings...whatever it is that might make our lives feel valuable and interesting at that time. I don't know exactly where I'm going right now, but I'm holding on to what I've always known-- I want my life to feel valuable. I want my thoughts to have meaning. I want my career and my personal life to pursue passion, ideas, substance and kindred spirits.

I've been talking to a lot more people recently about the foster care system and how to follow my interest in that area, and in the process, I've hooked up with friends who I hadn't talked to in a long time-- people who have similar dreams and are making my life more inspired just with their energetic presence. The 20s are a terrible curse, but the promise of a blank slate is exhilarating... I want to give to the people and organizations that I care about without losing a fundamental or irreplaceable part of myself in the process.

In the meantime, it's a wonderfully quiet, cozy evening, my apartment has been cleaned, good food has been cooked, good people have talked my entire battery out. I have a few more chaotic days at work, and then I'll be back East with my friendth! A new suit and interview questions, blood-splattered in the front row by zombies, learning how to be a bartender, seeing Jessie's gallery, Steve's birthday. I need to buy nice shoes, pay my bills and find someone who will water Robert Plant... too much to do.This week: crazyface. Tonight: comfy, introspective and wearing pajama pants with monsters on them. Voici, c'est la vie-- pas la vie en rose, mais la vie du Petit Prince... complique, belle, et avec une petite fleur sur une petite planette.