Favorite Films of 2014

10. The Skeleton Twins

Courtesy of Roadside Attractions. 

Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig in a tragicomedy about family, identity, depression, infidelity and death. Sounds dark, but it's the sort of treatment that will give you the warm and fuzzies and make you want to hug your sibling(s). 

9. Gone Girl

Courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

As a fan of Gillian Flynn's Definitive Novel of 2012, my blood began to simmer at the news of a film adaptation, then quickly cooled when I learned that David Fincher was at the helm. Even after the news of Ben Affleck's casting as the lead (he does have the perfect creepy smile), I kept my trust in the Fincher, and boy did he deliver. Rosamund Pike is divine as psychopathic Amy, and that last scene with Neil Patrick Harris as Desi is nothing short of perfection. Please let this be a shining example of why more novelists should pen their own adapted screenplays.

8. The Trip to Italy

Courtesy of IFC Films.

I was first introduced to the delightful celebrity-impersonating comedians Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan when a screener of Michael Winterbottom's 2010 film The Trip landed in my PO Box when I was covering the San Francisco International Film Festival as an undergrad. Equally enchanted and bewildered by the kooky, epicurean road trip, I wasn't entirely sure when I began my review whether it was documentary or feature film. Four years later, as soon as I saw the sequel in the SFIFF program, I immediately added the screening to my calendar. A little more "serious" than the original, The Trip to Italy still has lots of heart beneath the humor. All those close-ups of handmade pasta and sunlight piercing the Mediterranean made me long for the Amalfi coast.

7. Obvious Child

Courtesy of A24.

The abortion comedy. Swallow the questions and preconceived notions that are undoubtedly reverse peristalsis-ing towards your oral cavity and run - don't walk - to the computer. Find this movie. Watch it. And let us all join hands and crown actress-comedian Jenny Slate the new Lena Dunham of girl crushes.

6. Chef

Courtesy of Open Road Films.

Maybe I'd gone soft from the nostalgia that Jon Favreau's film evoked of my time working on a food truck in Paris, but he seemed to really get food. He captured the lifestyle (the colorful Spanglish, the dick jokes, the camaraderie, the terrible hours, the near-nonexistent personal life) and spun it into a fun, vivid tale of how a passion project isn't necessarily a suicide mission, especially in an industry where the vast majority of new businesses fail. At a time when my professional life was less than ideal, Chef reminded me of why we do what we do.

5. Interstellar

Courtesy of Warner Brothers.

I bookmarked this Vulture article and read it after I'd seen the film, and all the little mental stirrings and reservations I had while watching suddenly dissipated. This is not to say that Ben Kenigsberg's interpretation is the only - or even the best - explanation, but for me it filled in the gaps, added another dimension to the story and, ultimately, elevated the film as a whole. Christopher Nolan, though talented, is far from a perfect filmmaker, yet Interstellar is as close to a perfect balance between form and content that he's hit since Memento. Sort of like last year's Her, if you saw Interstellar and didn't enjoy it at least a little, then there's a good chance that it went soaring over your head.

4. Life Itself

Courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

In addition to the reviews by local critic Moira Macdonald, Roger Ebert's opinions were the ones I trusted most when deciding whether or not to see a film. Later on a touchstone for my own film writing when I felt out of touch with objectivity, Ebert's articles were always reliably straightforward and unpretentious. He didn't fool around with the flowery, erudite language of academia; rather, he was the people's critic. But more importantly than that, he never strayed from the Fundamental Role of a reviewer, as taught to me by my high school journalism teacher: to assess the degree to which the artist succeeded in achieving whatever it was that he/she set out to achieve. In other words, you can't judge a Michael Bay film using the same framework as you would a Darren Aronofsky film. (Unless, maybe, the film in question is Noah. Oof). But I digress. Life Itself was a poignant reminder of how much Ebert inspired me as a film watcher, writer and lover. 

3. Dear White People

Courtesy of Lionsgate.

This is the type of satire that will make you squirm in your seat and cringe as you laugh, because Justin Simien's script is just. That. On. Point. Set on a fictional Ivy League college campus, gleaming ivory tower of white privilege and self-delusional notions of post-racism, the multi-protagonist narrative follows several African American students as they try to reconcile their own emerging identities with the ones pop culture tries to force on them, as well as the everyday struggle of being, as per the tagline, "a black face in a white place." The climax of the film is a blackface party hosted by a white fraternity. Think that sounds too outlandish? Google it. Sadly, this is one of the instances when art imitates reality.

2. Birdman (or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Courtesy of Fox Searchlight.

This was a close call but, alas, I had already pledged my allegiance to Boyhood as number one this year. Complex, philosophical and witty beyond measure, Alejandro González Iñárritu's film is a caustic assessment of the current state of cinema through the prism of theater. Michael Keaton stars as Riggan, a fading actor best known for his long-ago superhero character Birdman, whose last-ditch attempt to revamp his career by way of writing, starring in and directing a Broadway play may just completely derail him. Keaton himself is probably best remembered by most as a pre-Nolan Batman. Meta, much? Opposite him, Edward Norton as Mike, a pretentious theater actor, lobs the sharpest criticisms of commercial studio films while touting himself as a pure artist. Shot and edited to resemble a single take, Birdman is a tightly-wound, intimate portrait of a comically tortured soul.

1. Boyhood

Courtesy of IFC Films.

Groundbreaking. Brilliant. Breathtaking. These are the buzzwords that have been circling Richard Linklater's Boyhood since its first screening. And, frankly, how else can you possibly describe such a cinematic undertaking? For twelve years, Linklater filmed actor Ellar Coltrane in order to make an epic, accurate coming-of-age film. What you get out of the movie depends on which side of the age spectrum you fall on, and whether or not you're a parent. Being only slightly older than the protagonist is at the end, when he starts college, I found most of the film highly relatable to my own childhood experience. Like him, I also went to midnight Harry Potter book release parties, nearly pissed myself laughing the first time I watched Will Ferrell's viral video "The Landlord," felt confused and hurt after breaking up with my high school boyfriend, etc. But the nostalgia and sentimentality of hearing Coldplay's "Yellow" and Phoenix's "Lisztomania" are only part of what makes it so captivating. Without prosthetic aging makeup or changing actors, there's no need to suspend your disbelief; the narrative unfolds, seemingly in real-time, and pulls you in.  

Honorable mentions: Art and Craft, Big Hero 6, Frank, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Guardians of the Galaxy, Nightcrawler, Snowpiercer.

Apparently I was too lazy to compile a 2013 list. Here are my picks for 2012, with links to even older lists should you wish to travel further back in time.

10 Types of People You Might Encounter at a Hostel

Real post coming soon. Currently under time/data limitations with this internet connection. To paraphrase a local:  the lack of free wifi in Auckland is frankly kind of embarrassing for a first world country. 

10. (Valencia) Japanese girls.

These model tourists are already asleep by the time you get home from the pub crawl and gone by the time you wake up extremely hungover. It's probably best that way such that they're not around to judge when you pull the trash can a little closer to your bed.

9. (Cordova) The family from Holland.

Aside from the fact that they occupy three out of the four beds in the room, the parents both sleep in their undies so after the first night you practically feel like one of them. The mom reads Harry Potter out loud in Dutch to the son before bed, which reminds you of your own childhood, and the dad snores just like yours.

8. (Marrakesh) The YOLO couple.

A German guy and Brazilian girl who exhibit dangerous signs of getting it on in your room but, thankfully, take it elsewhere. Still, it's pretty much a repeat of the Prague experience.

7. (Marrakesh) German bros.

Super chill and willing to share cigarettes and Hennessy.

6. (Marrakesh) The hiccoughing Icelander.

A perfectly agreeable gentleman with the curious tendency to, at the beginning of each sentence, inhale sharply like a fish gasping for air. It's disconcerting during conversations because this habit makes it seem like he's really surprised at everything you say.

5. (Essaouira) Dutch bros.

You may have made tentative plans to catch a bus together back to Marrakech, but in the morning when everyone is running late they can't bear to leave the hostel without breakfast. Such a shame; three strapping young men would have done wonders to fend off unwanted advances from local guys.

4. (Singapore) The future Jay Gatsby. 

I came back one night to find one other person still up in the common room - a Malaysian guy about my age who interrupted my blogging reverie by asking if we'd met somewhere before. I immediately said no, (it being my first time in Southeast Asia and all it seemed rather impossible) but it later occurred to me this was perhaps a flirting tactic. He spoke with a posh British accent, not uncommon in Singapore but usually it's more of a slight twang than full-on I-am-Lord-Crawley-of-Downton-Abbey speak. After he told me that he was Malaysian-born I asked him what he was doing in Singapore. And I distinctly recall him saying, and quite haughtily at that, "Oh, I don't speak like a local." (Didn't even answer my question, but whatever).

Other phrases he used that ultimately reminded me of Gatsby's verbal tic "old boy" to denote the class he longed to be associated with include: "What do your friends call you?" and "I apologize for the behavior of my colleagues." (As opposed to the more standard "What's your name?" or "Sorry my friends were being dicks last night...")

I find it rather off-putting when people put on airs but, who knows, maybe one day I'll read about him in the NYT and regret the time I didn't take him up on his offer for drinks.  

3. (Kuala Lumpur) The hostel staff.

Upon checking in, I was surprised to see two of the lower bunks converted into cave-like enclaves thanks to the plethora of towels, scarves and clothing hung around on each side, giving the strong impression that their inhabitants were in for much more than a short-term stay. And then, when I was going to bed, I realized why: the beds belonged to two of the staff members. It's not uncommon for young people to travel until they run out of money and then work at a hostel in exchange for room and board until they decide on their next move but, yeah, the caves. Those were a bit strange.

2. (Auckland) The working holidayer.

A guy on a work-holiday visa who, although perfectly friendly and civil in conversation, makes absolutely no effort to be quiet when he enters/exits the room after everyone else has turned in for the night. Aka the worst kind of roommate.

1. (Everywhere) Weary travelers who DGAF.

People who have been on the road for so long, met so many people and made so many memories that they can't keep them all straight. It's not that they don't want to talk to you, it's just that they're a little tired of making introductions, and by now they've been on the road for so long it would take a really long time to recap.

A Walk Through Almodóvar's Madrid

Towards the end of my sophomore year in college I took a class exclusively dedicated to the works of Spanish film director Pedro Almodóvar. Twice a week we met over the course of the quarter: once to watch one of his films, and again to discuss it in the context of the assigned reading. Some of the texts were easier to digest than others; some were in English, some in Spanish; and some, despite repeated readings for other classes, I still never quite understood (Laura Mulvey's "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema," anyone?). But to this day, The Cinema of Pedro Almodóvar remains one of my favorite classes ever, and was a decisive factor when it came time to select a major. (Famously, I made a pros and con chart to choose between English, Film Studies, Anthropology and Environmental Science; in the end I went with anthro but minored in film).

I don't know if it's exactly fair to call Almodóvar my favorite director, but thanks to that course I have seen almost all of his films and quite like most of them. (There are other filmmakers that I greatly admire, but I don't feel that I've seen enough of their work to know whether the appreciation of their style exceeds the few examples that I am familiar with). Almodóvar's specialty is in creating stories that are endearingly kitschy and visually vibrant with characters that are real, though often not entirely realistic. Watching his films, which he writes himself, it often feels as though they take place in a parallel universe. Sexuality (and, inevitably, sex) is one of his most prevalent themes, and the director definitely has some, er, unique takes on it (see: Matador and La piel que habito). 

Thus far in his career Almodóvar has only worked in his home country, with a penchant for setting his films in the capital, incorporating well-known landmarks and places that played a role in his youth. Put simply, Almodóvar is to Madrid as Woody Allen is to New York. So between siestas, tapas, and hitting up all the requisite sites and monuments, I decided to track down some of the filming locations.

1. Telefónico building. Gran Vía, 28. Visible from the rooftop of Pepa's (Carmen Maura) building in Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown). A nod to the director's past employment when he first came to Madrid.
2. Plaza Mayor.  Where Ángel (Juan Echanove) dances one evening in La flor de mi secreto (Flower of My Secret).
3. UGT office, formerly the Convent of Santa Maria Magdalena. Calle Hortaleza, 88. The convent where Entre Tinieblas (Dark Habits) takes place. 
4. Círculo de Bellas Artes. Calle Alcalá, 42. Where Andrea (Victoria Abril) and Nicholas (Peter Coyote) can be spotted in Kika.
5. Cine Doré. Calle de Santa Isabel, 3. Benigno (Javier Cámara) watches a film here, in Hable con ella (Talk to Her), on one of his free evenings, which influences him to do something very crucial in the story... 
6. Calle Conde Duque. Tina (Maura) gets hosed down on this street in a memorable scene from La ley del deseo (Law of Desire). 
7. Cementario de la Almudena. Liberto (Victor Plaza) visits this cemetery in Carne trémula (Live Flesh). Of course the more iconic resting place shot by Almodóvar would be the Cementario Montjuic that appears in Todo sobre mi madre  (All About My Mother), but that's in Barcelona and, naturally, I didn't think of it while I was there. Oops! 

As big a fan as I am, I'd be lying if I said I discovered and recognized these all on my own. So, credit goes to: Trip+,  I Need Spain, and Todo Almodóvar.

And in case you have thus far been deprived of his excellent films, I would recommend starting with Todo sobre mi madre, Volver, Hable con ella, Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, and Abrazos rotos.  

Packing for a RTW Trip

In two days I leave for a long-awaited and meticulously planned journey that will take me south, then east, to every continent except Antarctica and South America as I gradually make my way home to the US over the course of the next three months.  Preparation has been vital (just look at my giant Google spreadsheet full of flights, trains, hostel and Airbnb reservations), but what made this trip tricky is that I'm doing it all with a carry-on. This won't be a backpacking trip in the sense that I'm not using a backpack (I'm so short I would just look like that little kid from the movie Up, not to mention I sweat like a motherfucker and in previous experiences backpacks just exacerbate it) nor am I going to the jungle or climbing mountains. Nope, I'm just your average urban explorer with a small rolling suitcase.

Here's what I'm taking:

- Painstakingly curated selection of clothing

- My two North Face jackets for after I cross the equator (one of them even folds up inside the pocket)

- Shower shoes, Jesus sandals and espadrilles

- Toiletries and make-up (liquids ready to go in a Ziploc bag) 

- iPad with Bluetooth keyboard case

- Day bag

- DSLR with wide-angle lens

- Moleskine

- A bunch of drugs prescribed to me by a travel doctor here in Paris. Everything is in French so hopefully if/when the time comes I'll know how to use them properly...

Favorite Films of 2012

I seriously considered posting this at the end of the calendar year, the logical time to do so, but decided to wait in order to see the last wave of Oscar contenders that unfortunately did not hit French theaters until now. (Actually some of them still aren't out but I feel like I've seen all the films that would have made the cut). Otherwise, it would have completely thrown off my 2013 list that will be written, presumably, at such a time when I am no longer living abroad. And what a travesty that would have been.

But more importantly, the Oscars are this weekend so this is my last shot at cultural relevance.​

10. The Raid: Redemption

​Courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Set in Jakarta, a group of twenty elite cops fight their way through a mob-infested thirty story building to get to a crime lord over the course of one violent night. This is usually the type of film I would avoid, and yet when my brother and I left the screening we both couldn't stop talking about it.

My general distaste for action movies is a byproduct of the fact that because visual technology and special effects are so advanced now, filmmakers think they can get away with creating explosive spectacles completely devoid of story, character and, well, frankly all the things that compel me to watch films in the first place. Sure, the plot of The Raid is contrived, but it serves the purpose of showcasing some truly amazing fight choreography. The tag line doesn't lie; it's pretty much 100 minutes of straight up action, but each fight exhibits such finesse there's almost a balletic quality to it. In fact if you watched it without sound it probably would look like dancing, albeit with lots of blood.

There is a sequel in the works and I'm pretty stoked to see how it turns out.

9. ​Argo

Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures.

Oh yes, the grand redemption of Ben Affleck. Since it seems poised to take the Best Picture prize at the Academy Awards there isn't really much I can add to the discussion. ​However, I will say this: like his previous films The Town and Gone Baby Gone, I found Argo to be perfectly adequate in every way, and yet when the credits rolled I couldn't help but feel a little empty. Don't get me wrong - I think each of his three features delivers - but somehow I still wish they could have gone further.

8. Rust and Bone

The film I loved so much that I watched it twice at Cannes, forgoing other competition entries. My full review can be found here. The most important thing to keep in mind, if you haven't already seen it, is that even though it's technically a love story it's anti-romance. I'm disappointed that they didn't campaign harder for the actors this awards season, and that Marion Cotillard (great as she is) earned more recognition than co-star Matthias Schoenaerts who, in my opinion, was just as good and maybe even better.​

7. The Hunt

​Courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

Here is what I wrote for Metro in my Cannes coverage, because I'm having a hard time coming up with a better way to say it now:

"In The Hunt​, a child's false accusation of sexual abuse leads to a decay of social and moral integrity in a small Danish community. Disturbingly and frustratingly realistic, director Thomas Vinterberg forces us to watch as everyone does the wrong thing while firmly believing themselves to be in the right - from the parents who believe their imaginative daughter without proof to her accused teacher, who remains unwilling to demonize his former friends who allowed the rumor to spread like a virus."

It's thrilling and psychological, and Mads Mikkelsen won the well-deserved top acting prize at the festival for his performance.​

6. Chicken with Plums

​Courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

My favorite director, Pedro Almodóvar, may not have released a film last year, but this one from graphic novelist Marjane Satrapi and her artistic collaborator Vincent Paronnaud ​struck a lot of the same chords in terms of theme, vision and aesthetic. (Which is to say a story of love, desire and death with a touch of magic realism that manages to be beautiful, tragic and comical).

Also I had the chance to speak with Satrapi one-on-one in San Francisco and she is basically one of the coolest people ever.​

5. Amour

Courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Since the wake of Emmanuelle Riva's ​Oscar nomination for Best Actress, some rare interviews are surfacing in which she ascribes her performance to Michael Haneke's explicit direction not to play it with sentimentality. When you consider the subject matter - an aging couple wherein Riva's character is slowly dying - ​it would have been all too easy to slip into sappy melodrama. But instead what you get with Amour ​is something more restrained and yet emotionally sharp. Full review here.

4. Moonrise Kingdom

​Courtesy of Kanye Wes Anderson (sorry, couldn't resist)

"I went to sleep afterwards dreaming about it," one journalist confessed to me in regard to why he liked Moonrise Kingdom so much.

Wes Anderson is undeniably good at constructing anachronistic parallel universes in which ​quirky people do kooky things, but this one just felt so right.

3. Life of Pi

​Courtesy of 20th Century Fox

I'm not much of a reader but I do get nervous when I hear about ​some of my most beloved books being adapted for the screen. Diehards will say that book is always better, but in truth it's hard to compare the outcome between the two mediums because there are so many things that you can accomplish in one and not the other, but Ang Lee did a commendable job with a story that many deemed un-adaptable thanks, in large part, to his cinematographer.

A boy and a tiger stuck adrift in the Pacific Ocean? Use 3D and put the audience in there with them. (Actually, for the film's Paris premiere they pretty much did just that).

Much of the novel consists of the protagonist's internal philosophical struggles, which I didn't fully understand when I first read it and probably still don't, but again...some things don't translate well from page to screen. Lee got the gist of it though in showing Pi's shifting religious views. ​

2. Chronicle​

​Courtesy of 20th Century Fox

This indie flick about three highschool friends who suddenly gain mysterious powers might seem like an odd choice, but to me it absolutely nailed two things that are often difficult to execute well: the found footage approach and the superhero story.

By found footage I mean that everything you see is, within the story, filmed by the characters. Most films that try to do this either lapse and have instances where what's being shown isn't diegetically motivated, or else they make it too realistic (i.e. handheld) and it gives you motion-sickness. Chronicle ​is pretty smooth in both regards.

As for the other thing, Hollywood's hatred of original material seeps into franchises by having on-screen superheros that rely more on the public's preconceived understanding from comics and television than anything that was written in the script. The exception - Christopher Nolan's reinvention of Batman/Bruce Wayne. Many of the superheros we see today can easily smash box office records but when it comes to depth and complexity of character they're seriously lacking. So without giving too much away, the best part about Chronicle ​is Dane DeHaan's sinister yet sympathetic performance.

Also it's set in Seattle so I guess I have a soft spot. 

1. Silver Linings Playbook

​Courtesy of The Weinstein Company

Being a romantic comedy may have cheapened the film to some, but for me it was refreshing to see two characters who clearly do not have their shit together. Mental illness and disorders remain highly stigmatized in contemporary society, and plenty of people would rather pretend nothing is wrong than seek help. It was such an issue at my university that we had a special name for it - Duck Syndrome - wherein on the surface everything seems fine but secretly everyone is madly kicking to stay afloat.

It's not just the themes and the tone but the charismatic leads as well. I can't pretend not to be a huge fan of Jennifer Lawrence's candid, no-bullshit off-screen persona, but I recently read that David O. Russell originally intended the leads to go to Vince Vaughn and Zooey Deschanel. ​Vaughn maybe could have pulled his own weight as Pat, but I definitely can't imagine the reigning queen of twee berating Robert De Niro in that climactic monologue about football.

And for a story about mental illness it's very uplifting. While I appreciate films that are challenging and make audiences think, sometimes it's nice just to leave the theater feeling happy without the urge to look for plot holes and dissect particular scenes.​

---

And, previously, movies I particularly liked in 2011 and 2010.

What are your favorites?​

3 Types of Crazies You Might Encounter in the 10ème

Each Sunday night I work the dinner shift in the 10th. It's not even in the outermost circle of arrondissements, and yet once we get off work around 11 pm there is no shortage of unsavory individuals around. Here are a few of the most memorable.

1. The Gung-ho Athlete

A couple co-workers and I were heading toward the nearest Metro when a tall athletic man jogging in our direction stopped a few inches in front of us. He proceeded to belt out a couple lines of whatever song was playing on his iPod (it was in English but I didn't recognize it), before continuing on his way. Not that weird, right?

Except that it had been snowing all weekend so the temperature was well below freezing and he was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and open-toed athletic sandals without socks.

2. The Belligerent Drunkard

Inevitably at the end of every shift, there are a few stragglers who beg us to take their orders before we shut down and start cleaning. I thought this was one such customer, who sidled up with a full pint in hand after the line had dissipated, and asked for an order of fries. I'm fairly certain he was also on something other than alcohol, because after trying and failing to engage us in conversation he disappeared (to unlock his bike, I later learned), returned to toss his beer inside the truck, and began pedaling off on his getaway vehicle.

The beer landed on the hot grill (not in the nearby fryer, thank God), leaving most of us shocked by the resulting steam and acrid smell. My boss, however, immediately took off after him - on foot - and chucked the only weapon she had at the perpetrator: her burger. It hit the guy square in the face.

3. The [Potentially Paranoid Schizophrenic] Conspiracy Theorist

On the same night that we encountered #2, we were chatting near the Metro station when I felt something brush against my bag. Paranoid after being pickpocketed once, I whirled around and found myself face to face with a crazy-eyed black man. (Not tryna be racist here, keep reading).

"I am from Africa," he said in slightly accented English, his attention fixed on me despite the four others standing around me.

"Where are you from? What are you doing here?"

"Uh...I'm a student from the US," I started to say, when he interrupted me with a revelation.

"China is with the al-Qaeda!"

That's when things really started to go off the deep end. He proceeded to tell us he was working with both the FBI and CIA, and at one point even pulled his phone and held it to his ear because he was speaking to one of his "agents."

It was funny at first, but grew tiresome once it became clear he wouldn't leave us alone on his own accord. Also he had the disconcerting habit of getting really close when he spoke to you. It wasn't threatening, per se, but personal space is something I value very highly.

My boss eventually lured him away so I could sneak off into the Metro station by telling him she worked for al-Qaeda.

5 Stages of Grief for My Stolen iPhone

I am hereby interrupting normal coverage of our family holiday with a recap of my New Year's Eve. I am also hereby reinstating comments and simple likes, and I encourage you to make use of them as you see fit.

1. Denial

I'm going up the stairs, exiting the Metro en route to a friend's apartment, earbuds in and my phone resting in my coat pocket. I feel someone brush up against me, and simultaneously the music stops. Is someone calling me? 

But as my hand instinctively reaches towards where the phone ought to be, my brain is a step ahead and, sure enough, the pocket is empty. The white cord dangles uselessly as I frantically look about every which way. I want to believe that somehow the iPhone just fell out of its own accord, and I'll find it lying on a step.

The truth is that it's gone, and I've no idea who took it.

2. Anger

Is this a joke? It's the fucking holiday season.

The other passengers have disappeared into the streets, all but one shady-looking guy who lingers near the top of the stairs. Shock has progressed to recklessness so I start to approach him, but as soon as I open my mouth it recedes. What do I say?

"Excusez-moi," I begin.

His lip curls into a sneer; once again my accent has betrayed me. I'm 70% sure he is the thief. But I don't have a dictionary and I'm too emotional to put together the questions that I want to ask. Did you bump into me on the stairs? Did you see anything?

Instead all I can think of is to ask if he has my phone. It's a lost cause. He pulls his phone out and answers it, although I'm fairly certain that it's a ruse and he's actually just talking to himself.

I walk away, seething. Part of me wants to turn around; give the guy a good shove; reach into his pockets and see how he likes it. But the further away I get from the scene the more the anger turns itself inward. I'm furious for being careless. I'm irrationally mad at my friend for asking me to bring things to dinner because the extra baggage slowed my reaction, but above all I'm upset with myself for not being able to communicate.

In six months of living abroad I have never felt more helpless than I do in this moment.

3. Bargaining

Once my friend lets me in I immediately go to her laptop and commence damage control. I log onto iCloud and pray that Apple can Find My iPhone.

As the page loads I make a promise to myself. If the location comes back I will not go apeshit on the person who took it. As tempting as vigilante justice is, I will call the police.

The search comes up empty; the phone is offline. Well, I guess the thief is not a complete imbecile.

4. Depression

Everyone knows that all of life's little events are completely trivial unless they've been simultaneously Tweeted, Tumbled, Facebooked and Instagrammed. So thanks to some random asshole, I have been socially crippled. What is the point of having a good time if you can't post about it? Does it even qualify as a 'good time' if it hasn't been validated by x number of likes, loves, shares and retweets? Does a tree make a sound if no one is there to hear it fall?

(Humblebrag: I had a decent one planned for NYE that had to do with it being Midnight in Paris).

I jest, of course, but the ordeal left me feeling quite upset. The silver lining is that the thief picked a night when it is not only socially accepted, but also expected, to down copious amounts of booze. (I managed to saber the champagne at midnight using a kitchen knife and without spilling a drop, but since it couldn't be documented I guess you'll just have to take my word for it).

6. Acceptance

My phone is gone and part of me went with it. Contacts, schedules, photos, lists, notes - all lost. But it could be worse. I wasn't physically attacked, and I still have my wallet and passport.

So although this was less than an ideal start to 2013, hopefully it means that the year will just get better from here on out.