I bid farewell to TIFF' 08 in true "glamourazzi" style (I'm making up words now). I am officially bed-ridden with a cough that sounds like I should be driving an oil tank along the 401.

For closing night, while the crowds were rushing the club next door for a chance to see Lindsay Lohan do lord-knows-what; I engaged in a "Fashion Affair".

Fashion Crimes on Queen Street, a style institution during TIFF, threw a party; red carpet, photographers, old-hollywood style and all. Guests were invited to throw on their choice of gorgeous frock, and step in front of the camera. LL should have popped over a for a lesson in "classy"; these girls are pros!

I left the world of wardrobe fantasy, and capped off my night with little Midnight Madness; TIFF's answer to all things creepy, gruesome, and underground. In celebration for the premiere of the butt-kicking, femme-fatale, zombie comedy "Sexy Killer"; I was greeted by a cast of zombies. Stage make-up aside; these dead dudes actually scared the pearls right off of me.

I realize there was no way to escape their zombie magic as I could easily pass for a lead in "Night of the Living Dead".

I guess that's the price you pay for two weeks of non-stop festival action!

Farewell for now; it's time for this short film to roll credits.

Sure, TIFF is all about the high-polished soirees, the extravagant premieres, and enough of-the-moment fashions to make you feel part of the cutting-edge.

But, once in a while an event comes along that brings you back down to earth; and what a sweet place it is.

Last night, Canada's most down-to-earth fashion retailer, Joe Fresh, hosted an evening for director Steven Sebring's documentary; "Patti Smith: Dream of Life". A long-time friend of Smith's; Sebring was celebrating a work that was 12 years in the making.

Now, what would be an evening celebrating the life, and influence of Patti Smith; without Patti Smith! The legendary singer electrified the room with a full set featuring none other than her charming, earnest, self, and her guitar.

Guests gathered around Smith to listen, some sitting cross-legged on the floor of the candle-lit room.

For the first time in the festival I saw people put aside the pretense, and designer hand bags, and just tap in to one woman's story.

Now, that to me is film.

It's been a steady stream of red carpet life for me as of late. I have been covering everything from Matt Damon's inspiring hosting duties for the OneXOne charity gala to Paris Hilton's "coincidental" appearances around town. (Matt Damon took the time to talk to every single media outlet about the scarcity of clean drinking water around the world; while Paris breezed by with her boyfriend/ hand bag Benji in tow)

All I have to say is; it's a good thing I'm tiny, because the space you're assigned on the carpet can sometimes make you feel like an illusionist or a fashion faux-pas in solitary confinement.

But, parking space aside; the mood on the red carpets has been light and fun. After a few events you start seeing the same reporters and photographers over and over again.

Heck, I even have my very own red carpet BFFs!

Off to the Joe Fresh soiree tonight to see the legendary Patti Smith.

Now that's entertainment!

The stardust has finally settled and I have been facing the not-so-glam realities of life in the trenches of the red carpet. I've had enough elbows-to-the-face and attitude from the almighty list-keepers to qualify me for the status of roller derby queen.

It started off with last night's M.A.C disco extravaganza. The night was destined to be fashion-filled, swag-fabulous and a chance to blow off some steam on the disco dance floor. I got dolled up in enough silver and gold to qualify as a former olympian. Most importantly; I was on the list, or so I thought.

Turns out my exclusive with Anne Hathaway, or media pass don't do much when it comes down to penetrating the designer-wearing wall that is "the list". Having a name like Gelareh Darabi doesn't help either. The possibilities for mistakes are endless; "Geladine Delabi" "Gellary Dalabi"? After half an hour of trying every name combination possible and more than one perfectly-manicured, furrowed brow; it was apparent the only M.A.C I was having that night was at my local drive-thru.

It looked like a great time from the outside; but then again so do most things cosmetic.

My mission for TIFF last night was all about one thing; after-parties. A number of celebs were throwing deluxe soirees all over town; and I was strap-less, false-lashed and ready to go.

I kicked my night off at the eTalk bash; hosted by the ultimate sultan-of-flash; Diddy!

I chatted style with fashion's bronzed and beloved; Dean and Dan. The boys from DSquared were dishing out style advice to everyone on the red carpet including Sophia Bush.

Dean's advice for fall: get used to the uber high heels ladies. Practice makes perfect! Plus, you can always accessorize a body cast!

Next stop; the Burn After Reading after-party, hosted by none-other-than Cartier! Apparently diamonds are also the Coen Brothers' best-friend. Tilda Swinton's icy character sported them in their latest film, which also stars Brad Pitt. Although there were no signs of Daddy Daycare himself; if you blinked you could miss a celeb munching on the exotic fare at King street's latest sleek lounge from the east, Spice Route. Jeremy Piven, Frances McDormand, Steve Nash (having his photo taken by Dave Foley), Zach Efron and Gerard Butler.

Celebs aside; the most entertaining feature at the party was a clever, live, photo-booth. Guests were invited to step in front of the camera and have their photo snapped; which was then projected on to the walls. Now that's flashy!!

So my globe-trotting television career has lead me to one of the biggest film festivals in the world.
That's right; I'm covering the Toronto International Film Festival for Bell TV.
Now, as a first timer in the mix of cinema's greatest; I have no idea what to expect.
Sure, my days will be filled with round-the-clock, riveting films, chance brush-ins with the stars, and of course, evenings full of the glitziest soirees my size 6, vintage heels can handle.
But, I'm thinking I might also be mastering the art of the elbow-to-the-face red carpet, actually keeping the up-do "up" for 14 hours, and pretending I've actually seen "Passchendaele" while trying to keep my third "Stellar McKellar" martini under control.

It's a jungle out there, and I'm going in.

Find out what really happens at TIFF with my daily blog.

And watch me on Festival Access http://tiff2008.sympatico.msn.ca

Pray for me!