Your face implodes in my experimental film

(Disclaimer: The following should mean no offense to anyone who may have been involved in what I'm about to discuss, nor is it a cry for help. I love you all, and I'm fine.)

Last night, was, well, not my favorite in recent memory. The Young Single Adults of Northern Virginia gathered at the Marriott Hotel in Adams Morgan for a short film festival. For weeks we've all been encouraged to submit 4 minute films and 30 second commercials to be viewed during this event. We had a red carpet, a photographer, and about 75% of us dressed up. I wore a burgundy and gold dress, my hair was slightly wavy, and my makeup flawless, if I do say so myself. Overall, the night had a lot of promise, and I was rather looking forward to it.

Unfortunately, it started on the wrong foot. I missed the train into the city that I wanted, so I had to wait for fifteen minutes for another one. This did allow me to run into some other festival-goers, so I did have someone to walk into the event with. (My roommates were otherwise engaged.)

My hopes were still high. Sadly, I didn't immediately find anyone to sit with until I saw my friend Kat that I knew at BYU. We hugged quickly and the MC began.

Before you read the next paragraph, keep in mind that I have a degree in Theatre, and have taken several classes in film and narrative composition. I know of what I speak.

Once the films started, Kat and I both stared, agape, at the screen. They were all in good, clean Mormon-y fun. But, most of them lacked a good script/any script, tight camera work, decent editing, correct spelling, and the sound was just bad. A couple of them were actually a little insulting, and bloopers are rarely funny, particularly if they're longer than the original film.

There were actually a few that were pretty decent. Not Sundance quality or anything, but still good. There were some creative ideas and every film had at least one funny moment, if not more. I applaud and appreciate those that took the time to produce them, despite how they turned out. I may have been a little hyper-critical, and for that I apologize. Overall, however, I was disappointed, and Kat and I weren't the only ones.

The night didn't end there. There was a dance for about an hour, and I while I love dancing, I just wasn't feeling like a part of the group and wasn't getting into it. It's weird, but sometimes I can feel completely alone when I'm surrounded by people. The music consisted entirely of heavily edited hip-hop, and I'm sorry, but Soulja Boy just isn't the end-all be-all of the music world. I was also a little disappointed that not one guy complimented me (thanks to the girls who did!).

I was able to leave with the same girls I came with, but I was the only one metro-ing as far as I did. I got home tired, hungry, and cranky, as I mentioned last night, and it bled over into today.

I guess we all have bad days, and not every night I wear a fabulous dress will everything be fabulous. I just hope that the rest of my week goes much more smoothly. My mood has already improved since I got to play with my "nephew" and his parents tonight.

Just don't be surprised if next year I'm a little hesitant to attend this event.