The Wedding – Day 4

Just a little bit of gold

Admittedly, this is weird. How do you prepare for this? These things seem so distant, so unearthly. We are all here, but is this really happening?

People from all corners of the Earth come to one place. The Table Mountain Inn in Golden, Colorado. We walk in the door and immediately see familiar faces. We turn and see familiar faces. It is surreal. Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world…

Energy is kind of wobbly. Like a grey hair you are willing to keep, but just won’t go strait. Or, when you are trying to stack round rocks in a tower, but your hands are shaking.

I actually want to scream. Or drink.

The event of the night is the gathering of the people into one decently sized event space. (Let’s all show a little disappointment that the restaurant decided to still have their open mike night in the next room over…) But, as the room fills, and your drink gets lower, more and more faces fill the space. They are smiling, and wearing bright colors, so this can’t be a funeral. These people are all here for my brother, and his wife to be. It is too easy to tell her she is my sister-in-law, in a joking manner, but this is real.

And we all drink, and meet each other, because we will be in each other’s lives now. This is it, this is real. If I keep drinking maybe I’ll wakeup and find that it is a dream.

Unfortunately, the altitude is no friend of mine, I do not end up three sheets to the wind as others do. I drink. And I smile. And I joke. And I shmooze.

I am laying in bed. It is dark, and it is quiet. I can feel the amxiety and energy rolling off my parents. This is a first. This is their first baby, taking one of those natural, but huge ass steps in his life. If I keep my head down, and don’t think too much on it, it is just another day in Golden, Colorado.

But, when my alarm goes off tomorrow morning, everything is real..

The Wedding – Day 3

(Yes, I skipped Day 2)

High T and ESB

Have you ever been somewhere so historic, so grand, that the mere idea of sneezing frightens you?

We went there. And we drank champagne. And we handed our feet over to people who knew how to pamper them. Truth: I actually WANT to look at my feet now.

And then we travelled up a flight of stairs, walked through two doors, and it was time for Grand High Tea.

(Which required emergency rush shipping of a dress because “jeans are inappropriate.”

Dress looked great.

Felt a little bit like a bumbling idiot drinking quite posh tea. Trying to shmear jam and cream on my scone, to have all the jam and shmear fall off before reaching my mouth. Do I commit and just eat naked scone? Do I play the awkward fool and loudly admit my blunder? Do I descreetly scoop the jam and cream off the table with my finger and reslather it on my naked bite of scone? Turns out, it didn’t really matter in the end because the scone crumbled in my awkward grip and lest I snort up crumbs like an ant-eater, the moment was gone. I merely shifted my plate over the fallen jam and cream, and brushed the crumbs to the side of the plate, and took another bite of scone.

…that fell apart when I tried to shmear the jam and cream on a little more securely.

Thank gawd this dining area is so spectacularly grand! Look at that sconce!

In the end, it turned out I was a fail from the beginning. One does not START with the scone and jam, one starts with the mini munchkin sandwiches. (Which, by the way, are not actually “finger sandwiches,” because they are at LEAST three bite sandwiches, and if one is not careful in their bite, posh sandwich toppings are at risk of abandoning ship. In which case, the drama begins. Do I pretend it didn’t slide down ny chin and fall on the table, and keep eating? Do I awkwardly announce my blunder? Do I pluck the slice of cucumber off the table and replace it on my bite?

Let’s just say, my napkin got a lot of work cleaning my chin.

So I drank my champagne.

Back to the hotel for a quick rest. The uninvited rain fell gracefully. And when no one seemed to take it seriously, it fell like, as my brother put it, “dinasaur piss.”

Down to a humble, English style pub for dinner. And yes, our first meal out with our long traveled English family, and we take them to an English pub. Big T, aka Texas friend, asks what the family feels about their new king. I get his attention and remind him that it is awkward to talk about the new king, in an English pub, in America, with our English family.

I ended up ordering The “Queen” Mother burger, medium rare. It seemed appropriate.

It was Burger and Brew Wednesday.

The day is actually over now, and I’m not sure how I got to this point. Multiple mimosas? Dom Perignon? Pints of my beautiful E.S.B? Or maybe I have begun finally falling into the spirit of it…

Tomorrow, we travel again. To a town closer to the wedding (castle) venue. And things will begin a new level of real all over again…

The Wedding – Day 1

And we ascended from sea to sky…

The day of travel. We woke up early and left the smoke-filled atmosphere of Northern Washington, and flew through the air to Colorado. We lost an hour, and a little bit of sanity. Astounded by the number of people so glued into their cellphones and devices (yes, I am on my cellphone device…) and just have no awareness of anything going on around them, except moving forward in line, and getting up from your aisle seat when the window passenger needs to use the restroom… How many times, throughout all the years of air travel do they need to tell us to put our phones in airplane mode?

Touching down in Denver and the oppressing heat slams into me. As well, finally, the gravity of this situation in which we have begun… by the time we reach the baggage claim I have an immediate headache, and a smile pasted on my face. Kind of like “emotional labor” right?

Denver wasn’t new. Not really, at least. But, I think, if I just stop for a minute, or a moment, it’ll all come crashing forward, what all of this is, what it all means, seeing family I haven’t seen in years, seeing my brother so stressed out he can barely walk straight, everything.

I started this year off crying, and thought it could only get better. But the truth is: this has been one of the hardest years of my life, and I have so many fractured emotions, I don’t even know what I am feeling.

But, it is 10:30 at night. I am finally back in a bed after some 15 hours. And I need sleep. And when I wake up, I better strap my boots on, because the show is about to start…

Vengeance

I think I was the only one who held faith that this movie could be something. The way a reporter finds the thread of a story and runs with it until they have found something extraordinary. This movie punched me in the gut, and then took its finger and flicked me in the brain. B.J. Novak is primarily recognized for his role in the sitcom The Office, but he is also a writer and director. This dark comedy was his first movie, both written and directed by him. And it had some of the most thought provoking and beautiful writing.
Everybody knows the growing boom of podcast hosts turned unofficial detectives. Ben Manalowitz, a journalist from New York has dreams of telling the modern Great American Story. His life is loose, girls in his phone named after their hair colour and where they met, rather than by their name. It is the death of one such girl that brings him to rural Texas. Once there, the notion of murder sparks the beginnings of an epic podcast mystery. The sort you’ve likely all listened to at least once.
Epic murder mystery in the armpit of Texas? Beautiful soul searching experience by a hollow man? Or maybe a story for the audience, to make them think, and to feel, and to wonder what it is about life that drives you.

Beautiful Boy

This one tugged some heart strings. (Thank you instructor for making me watch it…) And perhaps because I was supposed to be watching it with a therapist’s eye, more of it struck home.
It feels like such a hopeless story, but you remind yourself that it is based on the autobiographies of both David Scheff and Nic Scheff, father and son, played by Steve Carell ans Timothée Chalamet. I think Carell’s performance is heartbreak worthy. How do you love somebody so so deeply, and accept the fact that there is nothing you can do to help them?
I think it is easy for people to think they would never fall into the trap of drug abuse. We see these people who abuse drugs out on the street, and it is so easy to turn your nose up. But I can admit that I am no stranger to having felt so utterly, soul flying, happiness. And I would climb mountains to feel it again. But instead I am here, in the real world, where people are selfish, and angry. Where people point out all the things you do wrong, rather than acknowledge the things you are doing right. That is the pressure we are under every day. And so Nic Scheff ran away from reality.
What bothered me the most was that it is clear that Nic is suffering from some major mental and emotional turmoil. He admits to not being able to handle reality. The focus was so strongly placed on rehab, rehab, rehab. When one professor/doctor straight up told David Scheff that the success rates of drug rehab was in the single digits.
What pains me is that this is how it is. Let’s have better gun control laws, because that will stop school shootings. But that is NOT what is going to stop school shootings. We need better mental health resources. Let’s kick the homeless people out of the park, because they make our city look trashy. But that is NOT going to decrease the homeless population. More mental health resources might better help those with mental health issues to have higher stability rates. Drug rehab centers? I don’t honestly know, I have zero experience. But it is no secret that people who abuse drugs are trying to numb a pain.
I don’t think this was why the instructor made us watch this film. But it is a heart wrenching story, and it reminds you of how deeply people can struggle.

The Duke

But honestly, how can one NOT want to go out and try to make the world a better a better place after seeing this film?
It was cast excellently. A solid mix of amazing knowns, and newer faces who held their own. Directed by Roger Mitchell, who adored Jim Broadbent, and Broadbent adored him. Unfortunately, Mitchell passed away right before his film premiered.
Based on a true story, the idea was originally proposed by Kempton Bunton’s (played by Broadbent) real son. Set in a small English town in the early 60s. At the time, anyone who owned a TV with the capability of receiving the BBC channel, was required to pay for a license to watch it. Bunton whole heartedly believed that pensioners had worked hard enough and shouldn’t have to pay for this license. To the point of sitting at a booth in the rain, to actual jail time.
The rebellion is obviously a message for greater injustices. The 60s, while full of free love and aloofness, was also a time of incredible cries for justice and equality.
Don’t believe that this film is some serious, stand for what is right. It is an absolute romp. I may have been the only non-silver in the theater, but I laughed through the whole thing. Bunton is portrayed as a ridiculous, unfiltered, lover of life. He is also a writer. Writing such incredible ideas as, what if Jesus had been a woman? His play, about a woman named Susan Christ.. Broadbent did his character such justice, and then some.
And while the license requirement WAS eventually abolished for pensioners, it happened long after Bunton had passed.
Watch the film, and feel the fire in your belly to stand up for what you believe in, unapologetically, no matter how small it may be.

The girl who kept her heart behind a glass door in her chest

There once was a young woman, whose skin was hard and silver, and whose heart was made of precious stone. She kept it behind a glass door in her chest, and at night it would glow like the full moon at midnight. She lived deep in the forest where she danced to the music of the breeze blowing through the leaves and the laughter of the gently, flowing creek. Each night under the smiling moon, her skin would sparkle like diamonds, and her heart would shine like the bright, Northern star. And each night, men would come to the forest, drawn to her, intrigued by her light. And she would open the glass door in her chest for their pleasure, and she would feel so alive. 

But as the night began to lose to the dawn, the bright sun would push the moon away, and dim the glow of her heart. And the men, drawn stronger to the warm and encompassing sun that brought the world to life, would shut the glass door in her chest, and leave her. 

And each time the door shut; a crack would form across her heart. Until finally it had become so fragile, she feared to open the door ever again. 

She locked the glass door in her chest and sat down on a low rock. She sat while the moon danced in the sky with the sun, while one season acquiesced to the next. She sat while the leaves fell from the branches, and the creek was lulled to sleep. She sat as the air grew cold, and frost began to cover her hard and silver skin. 

And as the moon held dominion over the sky, a man came through the forest. He was drawn to her frozen, still form. Such a woman, with fallen leaves all around her, staring towards a creek that didn’t flow. Such a woman, whose silver skin had become tarnished and covered in frost. Such a woman, whose heart was locked behind a glass door in her chest. 

His warm thumb drew a trail through the frost on her cheek, and he thought, if such a woman were to dance under a smiling moon.. (unfinished)