Are you ready?

~a blog post in pencil~
on the back of a movie list
I am sitting in a corner taqble,
in a make-shift cafe
in the Prospecter Theater
Park City, UT.

It strikes me agani how this festival has grown over the years:
spilling past the boundaries of Sundance itself.
We don't even question Park City's involvement, although the name is "Sundance".
The first place I ever skiied was Sundance.
I remember the way the mountains look from the top of th elift--
spread out ot the futhest horizon in waves.

The loud rumble of conversations from the handful of tables are the background--
a word, phrase or laugh breaks through the white noise occasionally,
and draws my ear.
'though far less jarring than the "Mo-o-o-o-o-o-m!!!"s I'm usually assaulted by it still disrupts my train of thought...
so fragile it is, now--or always?
I suppose I've never had focus, but the tracks of my train of thought seem to be made from sand...

There are people around looking important--
looking like they feel important,
looking like they should be important, or will be.

I spent some time the other day practicing my cursive writing
(as a fine procrastination exercise, fyi)
and now I am distracted by my style of half cursive-half print.
It seems so lazy, so childish--ecclectic, I guess.

As for why I'm sitting here with nothing to do but fill my craving for blogging with the awkward and slow motions of a pencil
(my left hand wants to contribute some letters! asdfg, qwert, zxcvb)
it feels archaic, or like riding a trike when a unicycle is the norm,
like crawling instead of running, dancing--
I believe I was on the explanation path.
(derailment, yet again)
SO, Orange and I stood in line to wait for tickets to a sold out show--
The premiere of "Wordplay," but there were 200 people turned away.
She is in the film so she made it into the screening--
the director and others made sure she got in (albeit at the last minute)
So, here I am at the temporary cafe, having already finished my snadwich,
salt & salt & salt & salt & salt & vinegar chips, peanut butter cups and bottle of water....

I keep forgetting to scan faces--
there could be familiar ones, you know.
So far the only face I've seen before was on a woman who is local, and I can't quite place her.
I can picture her addressing a group, cheerfully, but cannot widen my vision to include the setting.

I would, Rachael, rather be bloging.
I am wishing to read words and see faces.

There is a table of journalists next to me.
I am curious who they write for.
Me? I write for you.
Well...I write "for" me, but whatever.

"Happy Clown Fuck Club" Brooklyn.
Or is it "Happy Fuck Clown Club"?
It's a circular inscription on a tall man's leather jacket.
He was part of a slight altercation earlier, when I first sat down
His friend iddn't have money on him, but expected the clerk to give him coffee.
The conversation began to filter through as he said, "It's not like I need money. I'm a DIRECTOR!"
My attention was successfully caught, as the clerk responded with, "But if I gave free coffee to everyone working on a film, i wouldn't selly any."
There were several more, quieter words exchanged and then the director stormed out,
like a storm cloud, truly.
(although, I have no recollection of his appearance)
Just moments later a tall, uniquely handsome fellow breezed in
(yes, the contrast in meteorology is deliberate)
and said, with a bit of a smile (something crooked and whisky-and-smoke meets happy-go-lucky about it) and in his deep, gravely-yet-light voice says, "But I'm subject matter!"
He got blank stares from the (quite obviously mormon) clerks.
"You know...I get free coffee because I'm in the film?"
He, to me, was clearly joking.
More blank stares.
I attempted to snap a picture but was unsuccessful--
in other words, I chickened out.As he turned to go, I treid to decode the back of his leather jacket.
I think I recognized him, but my memory is gone with not only the wind, but the summer as well.

I am tempted to write my URL all over this place.
ALL.
OVER.
I can't believe that scribbles on one side each of 4 sheets of paper, two quick phone calls, and some annoyingly slow and impotent attempts at IMing or websurfing on my phone have filled the entire running time of the film.

********

So, that was was I wrote.
I found myself wanting to add things here or there because somehow my mind is more stimulated at a keyboard than with a pencil.
Food for thought.

The update is that I saw ONE celebrity.
Or, more optimistically, I could say, "I have seen one celebrity so far."
eh, not that I care.
I could have gone to one of the private parties, which was reported to have a whole bunch of lesser-known celebrities, and a handful of bigger names, but I wasn't really that interested.
It could be because I was not dressed for it,
but I'm guessing it was more because I gravitate to conversation rather than sparkle.
eh, whatever.
I have now gabbed the morning away and it is time for me to dash to the shower so I can pick up my kids--
then we're off to Sundance (the resort) so I may catch a screening of Wordplay!!
So excited.

Also, since I'm too rushed to do comments properly at the moment, I'll address a rather urgent one here.
CharlieMaravilla: If you have this doll, I would like one. What could be better than my husband having a threesome with ME and ME?????