This blog brought to you by the letter S and the number 3

Hello kids. Grandma would like to talk to you about three (count 'em, 1, 2, 3!) things: scandal!, soirées, Sesame Street.

I had the morning off. I sat around the apartment with a blanket wrapped about my shoulders, drinking coffee out of a mug, watching Sesame Street. Amy Sedaris was on today. She was Snow White and her seven dwarf puppets kept disappearing. Learning subtraction, I guess. I'm not sure it's regression, my sitting there for a full hour to watch this childhood classic. I was drinking coffee after all, separating myself from the thumbsuckers and diaper-clad. The clips still make me laugh, or still amaze me. Like the one where a little girl takes her grandma's Polaroid camera to the park to photograph her friends. She captures Billy on the slide. He is scared. She snaps Tilly and Jane fighting over a swing. They are mad. The goal of the clip, I suppose, is to provide a vocabulary for emotions kids experience everyday. There was something romantic about seeing a young girl with a camera. The simplicity of it seemed to make the events of the evening before seem a bit trite and superfluous. But first . . . scandal.

7 jours. Meet Quebec's scandal-maker magazine. I found a copy from July at KINO with the following title written across the top: "le nouvel amoureux de Stéphanie Lapointe"--the new lover of Stéphanie Lapointe. The magazine introduced readers to Dominique Laurence. He was among the five that conceived KINO in 1999. He still makes films for the monthly screenings but now directs music videos, including those of Stéphanie Lapointe, 2004 winner of Star Académie, Canada's version of American Idol. Kinoites, in the tabloids, hobnobbing (supposedly) with the bigwigs, the Britneys, the in-the-news.


But me too. At least last night. Yesterday was the Soirée VIP, a private fundraising event that we've been gearing up for since my arrival. The press comes, the men come in dress suits (and jeans, strangely), the women come dressed to the nines. Denys Arcand, too, comes, or came last year, this most celebrated Quebecian director. I can't claim to have been a major part of the action; I was relegated to the coat check for the duration--seven hours of searching for 699 and 705 and stealing fancy hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Here's a brilliant picture taken by the press. You can see me--the "hired help"--in the background, as bored as I look. The fact that I had to enlarge this photo so you could get a good look at me (and my stellar new dress) suggests the role of interns at KINO. That's not necessarily the truth, though. Jéricho Jeudy (great name, eh?), co-founder of KINO, tells me I've done my time, I've proven my colors, and it will be noted at the next major event. But there's something to be said for being a fixture of the evening. Last night, as "coat check lady who looks bored from time to time, but speaks French even though she's American," I was able to cross paths with every guest and every volunteer. It was actually a good opportunity to sink my teeth in, to dance a bit (behind the desk), to see what life in the film business, even at the most marginalized, grassroots level, demands of those involved. Am i made for this sort of posh event? Families are dying in Darfur; I sometimes think of this when I drink champagne or eat cheese that smells too much, or when jeweled women leave their Burberry umbrellas with me at the coat check. Is Darfur or any other tragedy my way of insisting on remaining exterior? Do I self-deprecate to the point of convenience ("i'm not cut out for this; these people will never be my friends")? Or maybe it's just Sesame Street clips that make me believe I'd rather be taking pictures of my friends' emotions. Then again, that's what KINO can teach me.

I get weird sometimes. But I can't lie that a bit of pride filled me when Christian Laurence and Jéricho Jeudy took the stage to the swelling applause of Montreal hotshots and filmmakers alike. Jéricho talks about KINO's wish for 2007--that Canada's most established and celebrated filmmakers will take the KINO challenge, make their first KINO film, support the monthly screenings, and support our efforts to revitalize cinema. So as I'm searching for the simplicity of things one finds in Sesame Street, my goals ultimately are not that separate from that of the organization I'm working for. Hey you, Denys Arcand, simplify yourself. Join the cause.

I'm gonna go read some Delillo.