UPDATE: Since the site switch, none of these links seem to work properly anymore. Maybe one day I’ll fix them, but that day ain’t today.
I hate to seem rushed in summing up such a fucked up year, but I felt it was better something than nothing.
I’m a few hours away from heading off to a week in Havana. A week where I’ll witness the end of 2008, the beginning of my second quarter-century on this planet, and, as it turns out, the 50th anniversary of the Cuban revolution (if there’s ever a time Fidel will show his face in public…). But while I’ll be sure to do some serious blogging catch up in regard to the trip when I get back in eight days, until then.. this blog is shut down, as is my relationship with the internet. Which will be very strange, I’m sure. I haven’t gone a day without the internet in years.
Most certainly not this year, which marked the first full year of this blog, a pasttime I’ve enjoyed way more than I expected, and I thank anyone reading this for continuing to do so. And while I could go on more generally about the many political, cultural and historical events that shaped 2008, I’m gonna make an attempt at doing it link-to-this-blog style, from a very personal perspective, and in a few short paragraphs so I can continue packing and try and get some sleep.
The year began with losing my Sundance virginity, which involved some vomit, an interview with Bruce LaBruce, swag, Heath Ledger, indieWIRE getting impounded, and a new roommate with a thing for Denis Leary, survived the middle of hellish Canadian winter, spent way too much blogging about the Oscars, gambled on them and won, and did not-so-bad (it seems) predicting this year’s Oscars a year in advance.
Then came March’s annual Nuit Blanche in my then home-city of Montreal, more insane winter to go with it, that horrible Sally Kern, the true beginning of thesis-related hell, DMX making me feel insecure about my intelligence in writing said thesis, and the magical facebook wonder that was Kevin Benson.
It was still snowing in April, a month which saw make verbal love to Richard Roeper, get robbed while I was fucking sleeping in my apartment, serve on my first festival jury in Atlanta, witness a hockey related riot for the ages, attend Hot Docs as a journalist instead of a volunteer coordinator, and watch Amy Poehler and Fred Armisen be the funniest people alive at an iW-Apple Store event.
May brought Cannes, and with it pandas, karaoke, creepy phototaking, and a newfound hatred for Clint Eastwood’s directorial capabilities. I arrived back in North America just in time to do some more bitching about the Sex and the City movie.
Then there was the summer, where I continued to near thesis completion, left my day job, spent time outside, found an unlikely rebound from my post-The Wire television celibacy, became a cowboy, became forever scared of buses, broke up with my boyfriend, got a tattoo, became briefly obsessed with the Olympics, joined a Christian rock group, and finally, moved from my beloved Montreal and into a now four-month long stint as a gypsy/hobo/residential mooch.
September brought my first school-free fall since 1987, and with it Zac Efron, an all-nighter in Toronto, the beginning of more Oscar geekdom, Tina Fey as Sarah Palin, the kick off of my over discussed “hobo tour”, including a wacky voyage to New York, and a fantastic New York Film Festival, which brought viewings of my two favourite films of the year: Wendy & Lucy and Happy-Go-Lucky.
The rest of the year, getting smushed into one paragraph because this is taking way too fucking long… brought with it a return to Montreal, a mourning of the end of Mad Men’s second season, my introduction to my drag personality, Petra, a crazy ass trip to Los Angeles, and with it an awards show, “Milk”, Obama, and the Prop 8 rallies. By the end of November, my own country was in political upheaval just as I was being forced back. I was too busy spending every waking moment obsessing about awards season or doing weird things with my family, though.. and somehow time flew at it was December 29th. And 1am. Four hours before I go to meet Fidel.
See you in 2009.