film and soccer

somebody remind me why i decided to shoot a movie? oh right it's my passion. you know you set off to make a short and you think, yeah it's gonna be tough but it's gonna be awesome. and don't get me wrong, it is awesome, but you forget just how time consuming it is, especially when you are still working full time and don't have the luxury of taking time off work.

either way, it's 4 days before shoot time and for those who don't know, cody bown and i finally got our butts in gear and got forest lawn production underway with it's first project, and our first collaboration that will make be on film. you can follow our production blog for all the adventures that have happened so far. cody and i were pretty much inseparable in film school, and spent many of our broke days lying on my couch at old 2905 eating popcorn and surviving on dr. pepper and cans of tuna. we wrote a lot of weird stuff during those days, mostly due to the fact that we listened to a lot off animal collective and watched todd solondz, larry clark and harmony korine movies. due to that, none of our ideas ever got picked to be made in film school. cody has always been my number one supporter of my writing and has encouraged me not to be afraid to put the weird out there. what was once something always in the back of my mind was unleashed after i met him, and since then i have never been afraid to write what i truly i want. it might not be everyone's cup of tea, but i'd rather write what i love then try to be anything else. it feels really great being reunited with him. i couldn't be more proud that we are doing this together, and to see him emerge as the great director i always knew he was.

but with our awesome producer alexis and our slowly emerging production-coordinator/co-producer - we haven't quite figured out what to credit him as yet - Byron Fudge, the puzzle pieces are almost in place.

the other thing that has been occupying my time is THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD CUP. it took my dad years to make me interested in soccer and somehow in the last 5 years i have become a full fledged fan. it doesn't help that the german national team is so awesome this year, that i have straight up trouble sleeping the night before they play cause i get so excited. to make this world cup even more awesome, our Director Of Photography that just flew in for our short is none other then our long lost VFS unofficial class 107 teammate James Schlittenhart, who if you didn't guess by his name, has German blood flowing through his veins and a soccer obsession that can't be tamed. Therefor having him here for the Sunday morning match between Germany and England was epic. On a side note, I would just like to say that I managed to screw up James's flight arrival times and ended up high tailing it out of the morrissey on saturday morning (it was 2 am) and cabbed it to the airport to pick him up. we ended up drinking at kits beach till daylight, which is what reunited german friends do.

alas though, on sunday morning at 5:45 am we drank some german beers, put on our german jerseys and waited for byron, drew and rachelle. once everyone arrived and we made poor rachelle chug beer (she's a trooper), we made our way by car to the one german restaurant in town. on our way we drove by an english pub with a line up of england fans outside, so James and I proceeded to climb half way out of the car windows and yell at them. cause we're those people. we then blasted guns n roses while byron looked at us perplexed, which prompted James to state the obvious "see this is why drinking at 6 am is awesome". when we reached the restaurant, it had a huge line up and it was 5 minutes before kick off and we didn't want to risk missing any second of the game, so we gunned it for Byron's apartment.

for those who didn't watch the match (for shame!!!), germany was brilliant, flawless, amazing, precise, etc. their assist goals were something to behold. did england get screwed over from that disallowed goal? of course. that goal was in and should have been counted for. but germany still kicked their asses 4-1 so end of story.

german national team, i love thee.

world's best defender and head bitch in charge philipp lahm thanks you for reading this post.

chunks.

awhile ago, i posted a blog about all my random plane adventures. this past monday, on june 21st 2010, i added another fun adventure to that bucket list.

i puked on the plane.

as in the barf bag, not in the privacy of the bathroom.

i was in calgary this weekend to drinks beers with my padre on father's day, and had to take the early flight back on monday morning to get back to work on time. aka 5 am wake up call (4 am vancouver time) for a 7:15 am flight.

i wish i could tell you the puking was caused by me being hungover and getting a case of motion sickness, but alas, it's way stupider then that. i'll be straight up honest, i forgot to take my birth control the night before so i doubled my dose to stay on track (yes, i'm aware that i am, as zach would say, a retard) fully knowing the extra hormones make me nauseous but i thought for some reason this time that would magically not happen. needless to say i woke feeling funny and it went downhill from there. i ate some toast and had a glass of OJ thinking it would settle my stomach (un-logic german logic, always eat something to feel better). by the time i was waiting to board i was working overtime to stop feeling nauseous.

i got on the plane and beelined for the bathroom. at this point i didn't think i was going to puke, i just wanted the wave of nausea to be over so i did the old splash cold water on the face and take a breather. in the awesomely ventilated small airplane bathroom. i heard the safety announcements come on so i knew i had to get back to my seat for take off. at this point i did feel better so i thought worst case if i feel shitty again, i'll go back to the bathroom in ten minutes once we are in the air. so i went back, buckled up, pointed the little AC fan to my face and tried to relax.

but then, that feeling, that horrible, horrible feeling where you know no matter what happens, IT'S COMING UP AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT. i had maybe 2 minutes, MAX before i wouldn't be able to hold it down anymore. i quickly surveyed my surroundings and realized we are in the most awkward moment of the flight for me to do this.

the flight attendants are seated and buckled up, everyone has their ipods/seat tv/computers turned off for this brief moment where we all wait to feel to force of the airplane take off. but that beautiful moment of silence before it happens.

this is when i decided to puke.

i looked over at my unassuming seat partner, i tap him on the shoulder.

me: "excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you, I just wanted to warn you that I am having a wave of nausea and I think I'm going to vomit, so sorry in advance"

him: "oh... okay... do you have the bag in your seat?"

and at that moment, i grabbed the famous barf bag that i have starred at for the almost 19 years that i have been flying and never had to use, and puked. only 2 hefty hurls and that was it. i discreetly sealed the bag and put it under my seat. and then, the plane did his turbo feel the force thing down the runway and we were off.

most.embarrassing.thing.ever

never in my life, did i think i would be one of those awkward people who puke in the barf bags. we hate those people.

at least the guy beside me reassured me that "you were very polite, very discreet". thank you monday morning business man. thank you.

and to further brighten the mood, my favorite bit about airplanes and airports, jerry seinfeld. so painfully accurate if you fly a lot. the first time i heard this i pissed myself laughing.

but he's mysterious.

i recently discovered something that i knew i always did subconsciously but never openly admitted it to myself.

i am obsessed with guitarists.

now me and 50 million other 14 year old girls can say the same thing, with our love of mysterious boys who are tall with dark hair and look down to the ground and write the most sensitive songs but they will never see the light of day cause they're not the star so they'll just have to play out their emotions through a distraught guitar solo.

guitarists: not as cocky and pretentious as the lead singer, not as weird and moody as the bassist, and not as laid-back and naive as the drummer. they are always the perfect amount of selfish, depressed and self-involved for them to break your heart.

i've dated a few musicians but never a full fledged lead guitarist. too dangerous. i also vowed to myself to just stay clear of musicians in general. they always look so good, but man are they a pain in the butt to fall for. am i right girls? you've been there.

anyway, despite all that, boy do i love guitarists. and no matter what concert i go to, my eyes immediately fall to the side of the stage where the guitarist is set up and they usually don't wander anywhere else. i have such a strange fascination with them. i wait for the little moments where they finally look at the crowd and smile, the moments where they sing (guitarists with underrated backing vocals, be still my heart), how many guitar switches they do, everything is interesting to me. the lead singer or anyone else in the band can never entertain me as much as the guitarist.

weird? maybe? yes? whatever.

the last concert i went to, the temper tramp (check em' out live if you get the chance, balls to the wall amazing) my habit didn't betray me. i flew right to our lead guitarist who did not disappoint. even my concert going companion, caely-ann, commented on him: "he's like a more bad ass version of Frodo". indeed he was. and of course the next morning at work, i was right on their website, looking up his bio and pictures to learn more about my new guitarist friend.

Here is a glimpse of some of the guitarists who have stuck with me till this day who i have had the pleasure of seeing live.

jamie hince.

this bitch. this motherfucker right here. pardon my language but this guy is the epitome of rock and roll guitarist. he swaggers on stage with numerous scarves and suggestively looks at his band mate and lead singer (a female) like she's a pice of steak and he's gonna do naughty things to her later. he uses his chocolate barry white voice to sing back up when he feels like it and plays his guitar without much thought, but damn does it sound good. oh and like any rock guitarist should be doing, he's banging a super model, Miss Kate Moss. Jamie Hince, i salute you. and come back to vancouver soon so i can see you shake your skinny ass again.

tom linton

i've always "liked" jimmy eat world. in the sense that i had one of their albums and listened to it on occasion, but when my friend byron invited me to their concert couple years back i was converted to full fledged fan. and one of those reasons being because of mr. lifton. what a great presence onstage. he has a whole aura of loyal faithful bandmate going on, with a touch of but i could be an asshole if you want me to be. awesome player, awesome attitude and most of all, he tapped into one of my weaknesses, a beautiful backing voice. strong and sometimes in my opinion, overshadowing the deeply talented frontman, jim adkins.

dave genn

i can write a whole blog about this incredibly talented individual but i won't. he is my favorite. of all time. words can not describe thy. why him? who knows. but one blistering hot and humid ottawa summer day matthew good band was playing bluesfest (why was the biggest canadian rock band at the time playing a blues festival? still a mystery) and as my friend jen and i waited around for hours and hours for the show to start, complete with random thunder shower where we all got soaked and muddy and standing through the worst.opening.band.of.all.time, they finally hit the stage. and as i was 3 rows back from the stage on the right, i was standing right in front of dave genn. who proceeded to blow my mind. granted i was 15 and this was only my like third live show but something about the way he handled his gibson les paul standard and played around with his 20 pedal set up made my skin tingle. after that concert, i finally picked up the acoustic guitar i had been given for free a year ago and finally took lessons. my teenage years were spent obsessing over him. i scrutinized his every solo and played them over and over. when he left matthew good band, i cried. when he started playing with holly mcnarland live i ran to the calgary stampede to see him. i waited backstage and got him to sign my ticket, he asked me my name and i said julia, to which he replied was his favorite song. i was so excited to be standing in front of my guitar god's presence that i blanked out to what song he was talking about. he tells me, "from the beatles, you know?". i melt into a pile of goo like Amelie, of course. of course i know. IDIOT. i let my obsession die down a bit after i graduated high school. although when i would hear through the grape vine what indie band he was helping produce, i would still go check em' out. finally, years later at the age of 22, caely-ann and i went to the commodore to go see 54-40. i knew that dave had joined the band. i told myself i was gonna go enjoy the night and see a good old canadian rock band, this wasn't about dave. but who was i kidding, i ran to the right part of the stage as soon as i got there and ogled his pedal set up. and out he came and i realized he would always, always be my favorite guitarist. to the point where recently, at the age of 24, my heart skipped a beat at a film premiere where i learned that one of the people involved with the film was his brother James Genn, a director/writer. And although we've lived in the same city for 5 years now, i've yet to see him anywhere but the stage. and that's just the way i like it. dave genn, don't ever change.

ta!

julia gulia