This vacation is progressing nicely @thejenball #sara (at Sole East, Montauk)

Define ‘life coach,’ my mother says, her tone clipped and loaded.

Jonathan Tropper, This is Where I Leave You

True story: I once woke up after a night out to find I had drunkenly googled “what is a life coach?”—question mark included.

What that says about me and my subconscious, I’m not sure I want to know. 

Michael Fassbender - "I Love You All"

I did it. I put on my big girl panties, faced my fears and went to see Frank this weekend, armed only with some gummy bears and a supportive hand to squeeze. 

Considering my first introduction to Fassbender’s character was the above video (which truly chilled me to the bone) and I have a (mild) established fear of creepy mascots, I was pretty skittish about seeing the film. I’m glad to report that I survived and it was excellent. 

My yearning for Domhnall Gleeson aside, I will say that the performances were heartwarming and the story beautiful and important. It’s no secret I love weirdos and this movie is without a doubt a weirdo. An unabashed weirdo. The characters are all lost, lovable eccentrics who’ve found a home with one another as a part of this band, their very own Island of Misfit Toys. The film will make you laugh, but also punch you in the gut.

Pro tip: if you’re at all uneasy (like I was), it might be helpful to picture Frank’s head like a big, nonthreatening emoji. It worked for me. 

Truthfully, I think my discomfort with Frank’s head made me connect with his illness in a way that I was not expecting—I felt even more for him because his affliction made me uncomfortable. I felt guilty for theoretically adding to his struggle. And that is the point. We’re supposed to feel anxious and ask ourselves, why am I feeling this way? We’re supposed to use our heads, whether or not they happen to be covered with papier mache.

Today at the office:

  • SJ (Singing): Players gunna play play play play play, haters gunna hate hate hate hate la la la la la la la la, mm mmm
  • [beat]
  • SJ (Singing): Players gunna play play play play play, haters gunna hate hate hate hate mmm
  • [beat]
  • SJ (Singing): Shake it off! Shake it off!
  • [beat]
  • SJ (Singing): Players gunna play play play play play...
  • E: *smashes face onto desk, repeatedly*

The job was at Mags Mumford’s house on the Upper East Side, and the first time Adam went he had gotten completely lost. Casey had told him to take the green number 4 train to Ninety-Sixth Street, but when they got to Ninety-Sixth, the train just zoomed on past the station and then past the next station, and then the next, and before Adam knew it, they were stopped at 125th Street. He’d thought maybe he could just walk back to Ninety-Sixth, but when he got out of the station, he was by some river and there were no white people on the street and he was pretty sure this wasn’t anywhere near where Mags Mumford lived.

– Ariel Schrag, Adam

Slightly afraid if I see this in theaters I’ll spend the entirety of the film sweaty-palms nervous. I’m embarrassed to admit just how much Frank’s head creeps me out.*

Trying to reconcile the creep factor with my love for Domhnall Gleeson (and Fassbender), but I’m struggling. I think curiosity and my love of film is going to win out over the unease…just have to remind myself: deep breaths.

*In college I once yelped in fear upon coming face-to-face with our mascot in the dining hall (though, you might too).