Yvette's Inner Geek Blog

It’s time again for the Sundance Film Festival, where I’ll be volunteering for the third year in a row. This year, I’m going to make sure that I take better advantage of my benefits, i.e. see more movies and spend more time in Park City.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I filled out my first volunteer form back at the close of 2007. It was a stressful time for me personally; a time when I felt isolated and beat down by things that were beyond my control. After two years of living in Utah, I had very few local friends and distancing relationships with old friends. It’s hard to be a left-leaning, non-religious, well-balanced late-twenty-something in the heart of strenuously quirky Mormon Country!

I didn’t blog about it because it was too personal, but it got to a point where I knew I needed to do something. I needed to do something for me. To help get me to a point where I could say that I was enjoying life and not just plodding through it, feeling victimized by all the things that were being thrown at me. The Sundance Film Festival had been on my mental To-Experience checklist since we moved to Utah, and I made the conscious decision to stop dicking around already and start doing.

The future becomes the past so quickly.

Volunteering turned out to be a fantastic decision. I had a blast, and wasn’t sorry at all about sleeping less and even taking a day (was it two?) off work. It rejuvenated my creativity and enabled me to meet a rainbow of people, some of whom I’m still in touch with at least on a Facebook-friends level. It was a great distraction from my stress-points at the time. It tickled my spirit for adventure. It helped me understand that whatever twists and turns are thrown my way, a small step toward living a richer life can go a long way.

On my drive up to Park City last Sunday (Jan. 20) for my second volunteer day at Sundance, I thought "Even a gray day in Utah has bits of blue peeking through the clouds."

I wrote it down once I arrived, along with other notes that will form this (late) post about my experience.  Here’s a photo of Highway 189 heading toward Heber, just past Deer Creek State Park.

 (That photo is from Saturday the 26th, because I didn’t have a camera on Sunday the 20th and it was a gray, cloudy day anyway)

It was an uneventful hour-long drive, though it did have some white-knuckle parts because driving through canyons with long drop-offs and looming cliffs with big "Falling Rock" signs have never been a particularly delightful thing for me. Chalk that up to my Midwestern upbringing with only occasional rolling hills and big lakes to worry about.

Once I got into Park City, though, it took me longer than expected to find parking and ride the (free!) bus to Main Street, where I had to walk uphill a ways to find the Egyptian Theatre. The bus stopped for a couple minutes because a tow truck was blocking the road… parking without permission is a serious offense at the festival.  Sundance encourages environmental friendliness at their festival, which ranges from riding free buses (that run in addition to the regular free buses in Park City, paid for by tourism taxes) to recycling stations set up all over the place.  A far cry from what I’ve seen around Utah otherwise, namely that people drive a half block to go to church. Yes, there are Mormon churches within a stone’s throw from each other all over the place, and somehow people still drive their SUVs a block or two, even a half block, every Sunday. What’s the point?

Anyway, back to SFF. I made it to the Egyptian about ten minutes after my scheduled 2:00 shift start, but it wasn’t a big deal. It was cool to walk past the line of people standing outside and show my shiny new volunteer badge at the door to be let in. I was directed to the volunteer supervisor (Shannon) and given the job of "Slasher" for the 3:00 movie. This entailed the easy task of  holding a clipboard and making hash marks to count the number of people entering the theater with passes instead of hard tickets. It was a little more challenging than I thought because of the pace that people were streaming into the theater and my lack of understanding the difference between the passes. I finally figured it out.

I still didn’t really know anyone, but was consumed with taking it all in. I had spent way too much time the day before playing Super Mario Galaxy because I was so excited about the festival… how geeky and fangirlish, I know.  

There’s more to come, but I think I have to split it into another blog entry.  

While I was driving into the mouth of Provo Canyon, I set my camera on top of my steering wheel and took a couple of blind shots. I didn’t get the coolest shots because I needed to put both hands on the wheel at certain times, but here’s a good one (as good as possible through a dirty windshield, anyway).

Beautiful views like these remind me that there are still plenty of good things about living in Utah. The first photo there is from a spot that is about a 20 minute drive from my house.  Here’s another shot on Highway 189 heading toward Heber City. If you look closely, you can see the winding road.

I didn’t really take any other photos, though I wish I’d brought my camera into the private volunteer party. The festival officially starts today, so I should get more action shots next time I go up there. I hear that Albertson’s grocery store is the place for star sightings, since it’s right next door to the ritzy Yarrow Resort where all of the higher-end filmmakers hang out.

But I did take a couple shots of the coat, hat and glove that I was given yesterday to wear as my volunteer uniform. There’s a closeup of the embroidered logo, as well as the secret zip-up panel on the right breast of the coat that will hold a cell phone, notepad, pen and other small stuff for easy access. I have a Canon Powershot camera that is unfortunately too bulky to fit there, but volunteers are discouraged from taking photos while dressed as volunteers, anyway. I’ll have to be a fangirl on my own time in my own coat.
 

 

It’s been an interesting 12 hours full of new experiences, and I’m going to try to record some of my thoughts before I tumble into slumber.

I drove up Highway 189 through Provo Canyon, past the original Sundance Resort (where some VIP stuff still happens) and through Heber City to Park City. The midday drive was beautiful, and I wish that I could have stopped to just take it all in. The temperature stayed in the teens, though, so if I’d stepped out of my car it wouldn’t have been for very long anyway.

I’ve been up to the Sundance Resort and also to Park City, but I haven’t driven through Provo Canyon before. The roads were good and it was a clear day… but on the way back I decided (with the input of some other volunteers) that I should go the slightly longer way home through Salt Lake City. There were still some white-knuckle areas of that drive down Parleys Canyon, but otherwise uneventful. Happy about that.

Once I arrived in Park City, I had to find the Marriott hotel to check in. My experience with Marriotts has been in downtown and suburban areas, not ski resort towns… so it took me a little while to find the non-highrise building. I got my packet of information and my uniform: a nice deep, bright blue Kenneth Cole coat with a removable inner vest, a black knit hat with blue piping, and a matching scarf with thin blue and black stripes. I didn’t get any photos of those today, but they’re cool. The only crappy thing is that the "unisex" coat wasn’t made for women with any semblance of an hourglass figure. I guess Kenneth Cole only designs for toothpicky New Yorkers and doesn’t have a clue that 65% of the Sundance Film Festival volunteers are females with hips. 

The first shift I’d signed up for–Environmental Graphics–didn’t work out. I was in touch with the coordinator who sent out an email to all of his volunteers asking us to call him before the shift started… so I did, and he basically decided that it wasn’t worth it for me to find the mysterious place where they were working on Main Street if I wasn’t familiar with Park City, and suggested that I ask the volunteer desk if I was needed anywhere else.

The volunteer desk was delighted to schedule me for a volunteer check-in position from 4-8, which left plenty of time for me to attend the hour-long orientation session. The orientation hit on a couple points worth remembering (they were reiterated from the guide that was sent out in the mail) but was otherwise not extraordinarily useful. But it’s my freshman year as a volunteer so I thought I should go. I still didn’t have any Festival friends.

That changed during my check-in shift. One of the nice things about working check-in is that I was able to have brief encounters with many people, some of whom I was bound to recognize later on. And I ended up going to the Volunteer Kick-off Party with two of my fellow shift workers, Lisa and Tim.  It was a weird experience for me to suddenly attach myself to these acquaintances, but it worked out better than I’d hoped.

Every time I’ve taken a personality test, I always come out on the fence between introvert and extrovert. I’m not necessarily scared to talk to strangers, and sometimes I find it invigorating. But at the same time, it’s a little nervewrecking to go to a party where the only person you know is someone whom you don’t really know. Yeah, can you tell that I don’t get out very much?

The party was at the Legacy Lodge at the base of the Park City Mountain Resort. It was for all 1400 or so volunteers, and the place was pretty packed (though I doubt the numbers were past a couple hundred). Still, I have never really been to a closed party or club environment like that.

I had to show my ticket and credentials to get in, then was given a wristband with three drink vouchers (which I gave away because I didn’t want to stay long, and I had a long drive home). I checked my coat (I made sure that I kept my wallet and my car key because coat checks make me nervous). Then I walked upstairs and headed straight for the free food line. There were amazing potstickers, a good fresh veggie selection, quesadillas with icky cilantro, penne pasta in a tomato-artichoke alfredo sauce, a massive hunk of meat carved on demand, and some other stuff. It was all good except for the cilantro taste that took a while to fade from my delicate taste buds. There were also cupcakes with custom frosting on each one to match the theme of the festival… and circle with "place" written inside. [graphic snagged from www.sundance.org/festival]

There were a ton of people at the party, and I basically knew two of them. At one point, with food in my hand, I realized that my new friends were nowhere in sight. My mind started sinking into a mild anxiety because I didn’t want to go sit alone and eat my food like a loser. Then I was amused by my thoughts. How did I even become "friends" with my new acquaintances? By talking to people, duh! Then I spotted Tim talking to someone and I dropped my esoterical thoughts for the reality of social graces and fumbles.

It turns out that Tim had worked the previous three festivals and knew a fair amount of people, even being the somewhat quiet guy he appeared to be. Through him I met a couple people whose names I don’t really remember, as well as Alberta from Nashville and Therese from Park Slope, Brooklyn (whom I realized lives on the same block as my aunt and her family–what a crazy small world). The four of us were having a conversation and suddenly I realized that the word "fuck" had been thrown about a few times, and it just made me giddy with excitement. I told them I was so happy to be around people who said fuck, because living in Happy Valley with all the Mormons has deprived me of hearing that word or really feeling comfortable enough to swear at work or around town. Alberta, an outgoing black woman whom I liked immediately, obliged me with a hug and then a second when she realized that I live in Utah County.  Tim hadn’t said much up to this point, but he blurted out the F-word in his next sentence to prove that the four of us were in fucking good company.

I also liked Therese right away, and not just because she’s originally from Toronto. Later on in the evening I caught up with her while she was talking to a smartly dressed black man (I feel weird calling out race, but keep in mind that I currently live in Utah where there are very few people of color and it made me happy to see a more diverse crowd. Hell, even the Italians with darker complexions helped alleviate the blinding whiteness of Utah). Anyway, the guy introduced himself and I couldn’t believe it… his name is Yves! He’s the first person I’ve ever met with the masculine version of my name. Am I a serious geek to get excited about that? I mean, how often do women named Nicole or Michelle (for example) meet men named Nicholas or Michael and never think about the fact that their names are basically the same? I’ve met a couple Yvettes in the course of my life, but never an Yves (pronounced "Eve"). He was a nice guy, and I was really miffed to realize that he and Tim were younger than me. I’m really used to being "young" and it’s really throwing me off to meet people who I assume are my age and it turns out they’re my younger sister’s age. I’m not an agist or anything–it’s just weird to me.

Okay, I’ve not talked about the actual festival much because the majority of it has been experiencing the festival through social functions. The real film festival starts tomorrow, but my next volunteer shift isn’t until Sunday. I’m starting to fade fast here, and I have to work tomorrow morning, so I’ll finish with a final musing.

Everyone I met tonight was a volunteer, so a fair question to ask them is what they do
in "real life" for a job. Most answered with typical things, like human resources or corporate telecom drone. But even though we were all volunteering at a film festival, I was still floored the first time I heard "I’m a film maker" as a response. For some reason, I wasn’t expecting to meet any "normal" people who were also film makers or in the film industry. Like, duh, of course there would be.

Also, nobody asked if I have kids, even though I shared that I was married. That’s pretty much the first thing that people ask me if I meet them in Utah County.

Overall, I felt like an overly excited n00b. But it was great, and awesome to both do something different in my life and to meet people from all over the world. 

I slept in a little this morning and now I’m ready to head out to Park City for my first day as a Sundance Film Festival Volunteer. I’m dressing in layers, even though the forecast now predicts a balmy high of 18, low of 7. And I confirmed that I will at least spend a portion of my day outside, hanging signs or flyers or something like that.

Frostbite, here I come!  I can’t wait!

This week has been filled with productivity at work and excitement about two upcoming events: volunteering part-time at the Sundance Film Festival (starting next week) and a pending visit in March by my Norwegian parents and sister (not my real family, but the people I’m still close to after living with them while I was a foreign exchange student many years ago).

I picked up another shift at the SFF (it’s what the hip kids call it) on Wednesday. I have to drive up to Park City (an hour fifteen, without festival traffic) for orientation/training/schmoozing and the kickoff party for volunteers anyway, so I figured I’d take the day off work and just spend the whole day up there.

It’s not a sick day, it’s a fuckit day. I don’t give myself those very often.

I’m also going to take a chunk of days off in March to show the Kristiansens around and see some of the local sights I haven’t seen yet.  It will be the first time that they visit me here in the USA… they did come to my wedding a few years ago, but that was in my Ohio hometown and I haven’t lived there since I was 16. Now I have a house and I’m all grown up and living in Utah (*pathetic cheer*).

Speaking of being a homeowner… this lame joke has persisted since we bought the house:

Ben: “Did you just call me a homo?”
Me: “-ner. Yes.”

Another guy came over to give an estimate on installing those damn skylights that we bought a couple months ago. He’s a general contractor and was highly recommended by one of my coworkers as a guy who “knows how to get stuff done and knows people when he needs help.” Exactly what we’re looking for. He was nice and seemed to be one of the most competent contractors we’ve dealt with so far as far as knowledge and customer service go.

There’s some drywall that needs to be repaired around the skylights, as well as some minor roofing, and it sounds like everything is going to be taken care of to make sure that leaks never happen again.  We haven’t seen the estimate yet… but I’m so looking forward to getting this DONE that I’m almost willing to just close my eyes and hand over the credit card. Well, not quite.

A couple months ago, I filled out an online form to volunteer at the Sundance Film Festival. Then I forgot about it until this weekend, when enough time had passed that I figured that they didn’t need/want me. And what do you know; yesterday I got a phone call and scheduled myself for 20.5 hours of volunteer work in a couple weeks!

I’ll be stationed at the Egyptian Theatre in Park City, where the festival now takes place. It’s a much longer drive to Park City than to the Sundance Resort from where I live, but I don’t care. One of the screening questions I was asked over the phone (and answered in my application, but whatever) was why I’m interested in volunteering. The truth is somewhat lame and fangirlish, but I said it anyway: I like independent films and recently moved to Utah so I thought it would be a cool opportunity. The woman who called me (a volunteer herself) assured me that they ask that question to ensure that I won’t try to promote my screenplay while I’m volunteering.

"Do you have–I mean have you written–a screenplay?" she asked tentatively.

"No," I said with a chortle; tickled that she would ask in the first place and somehow disappointed that I haven’t written a screenplay.