My apologies

I have so much to catch you up on, but unfortunately the internet here is about as reliable as Courtney Love showing up sober to an event.

It is now day 7 of the Festival and I haven’t written since the opening day. I’ve seen many a celeb, a few movies, and jumped through my fair share of hoops to nail down speakers and, what’s more, nailing down the tres elusive cheap meeting location.
Gotta run now (of course) – and won’t be back to JLP until late tonight. No idea when my updates will come…but they’ll come, damnit.
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Day Trois

Being the haggard old lady that I am – well, at least compared to these Energizer bunny students – I took the third day of the Festival “off” to stay in Juan Les Pins and catch up on sleep, sanity, and computer usage.

Posting up in the wifi-friendly lobby of our residence, I sunk deeper and deeper into one of the cracked leather couches for approximately seven hours – accomplishing way less, blog-wise, than I had set out to complete. It’s amazing how accustomed we (in America) have become to instant gratification, technologically. When the loading of a website or the upload of a photo takes longer than .5 seconds it feels like an eternity. Needless to say, it has been a struggle — in France, I achieve as much in an hour as I would in ten minutes back in the States. And yes, I WILL take some cheese with this whine – preferably camembert and emmental.

Besides my time-sucking-blackhole-of-an-internet experience there were a couple noteworthy anecdotes I’ll take the time to share…

Living in a French residence makes for some fantastic people-watching in our very own lobby. The slue of characters is similar in that they are mostly European vacationers – a lot of times with families (read: adorable kids with even more adorable accents) – or they are quirky, elderly locals. On this, my day off, I was lucky enough to have encounters with both of these ‘types’.

The first encounter occurred with the former of these examples. A pack of siblings plopped themselves down on the plush, brown couches around where I sat. There was the older, adolescent sister who quietly set the example – there was the husky, middle-child brother whose slicked back hair and bowling ball-esque stature was more than amusing, and then there was the youngest sister with curly hair down to her back who was full of life and too cute for words. All three were pre-occupied with electronic devices that matched each child perfectly – size and age-wise. It was like the three bears in Goldie Locks and the sizes of their furniture. The oldest typed on her regular-sized laptop, the middle child gazed at his personal DVD player, and the youngest energetically played on her tiny handheld Nintendo device. The site of these kids with their perfectly-sized gadgets, respectively, was entertainment enough….that is, until the youngest little girl started loudly cussing at her Nintendo. Repeatedly. It was HILARIOUS! Her older brother and sister were hardly fazed by her outbursts – which made me wonder if this type of language/behavior was normal. The little girl couldn’t have been more than five, yet she was shouting “merde” at poor little “Mario” on her screen. “Merde! Mario a tué!” If I heard a kindergartener in America yell, “Shit, Mario died,” I would correct them – or in the very least strongly question the way they’ve been parented. Is this a cultural difference? It was my understanding that ‘merde’ means ‘shit’ and ‘shit’ is equivocal to a cuss word. Am I wrong? Has this term been lost in translation? Perhaps ‘merde’ is more closely aligned with ‘crap’ – still getting the meaning of ‘shit’ across, but in a less severe word form. I don’t know – this encounter really made me wonder…

Second, there is an old man whose walks through the lobby I have managed to witness twice daily. He often takes up complaints about who knows what with the front desk – he seems to really make the staff work for his approval, which I like. The students refer to him as “a boss” (not in the workforce sense…but in the current college lingo sense). From behind, in his flannel shirts and fitted jeans, he has the frame of a 30-year-old version of himself – yet when he turns around to face forward his 70-year-old potbelly and wrinkles are revealed and I love him all over again. My favorite accessory is his blue NY Yankees hat that he wears constantly. So badly I want to take a picture of this man for Pete Heid (one of my advertising coworkers and the biggest Yankees fan I’ve ever met). Anyway, on this day I find myself in the elevator with him for a few brief moments. I seize this opportunity to tell him, “J’aime beacoup ton chapeau” (aka- I really like your hat). He says, “New York!” and continues on to tell me an unlikely story. Instead of the typical ‘I went to NYC and bought this hat’ tale he told me he had gone on a trip to Spain and found this hat for sale en Espagne. He bought it there solely because he like the hat, admitting to me that he had never even been to New York let alone the United States. I laughed in French (quoi?) and bid him ‘au revoir’ as the elevator stopped at his floor. I smiled the rest of the way up to my floor.

Finally, I got a small taste of home. Through a quick gchat with Dan I learned that Charley (mine and Dan’s sweet little Puggle) was in daycare back in Atlanta. I immediately go to Bark ATL’s website to take a peak in its three dog rooms – Little Pup Lane, Mid-Hound Lounge, & Big Dog Way – via the online motion cameras the daycare provides. I found Charley and her doggy friends PASSED OUT in the Mid-Hound Lounge, her white underside exposed, in prime position for a belly rub. I took a quick still shot of the room and dragged the photo to my desktop (see below). I love that even 4,735.2 miles away (yep, check it: http://www.distancefromto.net/) I can see my baby girl and get a little jolt of happiness from home. God bless Bark ATL’s video cameras (and skype)!

Courtesy of services provided by: www.barkatl.com

Around 8pm I venture out from my comfortable lobby setup with our program’s Telecom professor, Dr. Jennifer Smith. Jen needs dinner and my stomach’s gurgling indicates that I do too. I suggest in an instant that we dine at “Pasta de Lys,” the cheapest, best pizza/pasta place in Juan. Jen has heard me raving about it since last year, so she is eager to try it.

*Cool bonus: “Pasta de Lys” will provide you a Chinese takeout-esqe ‘to go’ box for your leftovers should you choose to take them with you. In a country where ‘doggy bags’ are virtually non-existent (and definitely taboo to request) this is a huge perk worth mentioning. The restaurant also offers delivery service. Yes, delivery service in France. It’s so cute – they have a little motorbike that sits out front with a plastic crate strapped on the back that can hold pizza boxes. I love it.

[insert food pic]

As you can see, this place – and this food – is fantastic.

After we finished carbo-loading the ball was in Jen’s court to guide us to a dessert place. Being the nutella crepe connoisseur that she is, Jen immediately leads the way to “Grand Marnier” – the fanciest, shmanciest crepe stand I have ever seen. Like its closely-situated competitors “Grand Marnier” possesses the standard round, heated crepe maker, metal crepe spreader, and oversized jar of nutella. Unlike the other crepe stands “Grand Marnier” trounces the competition with sprawling marble countertops – an unrivaled luxury provided to the walk-up customers. Additionally, there are two crepe-constructors extraordinaire (as opposed to the usual, one-man crepe operation) and this tag-team duo perpetuates their professionalism through their uniform chef hats, at least a foot high, and their crisp, white chef jackets. They clearly take their crepe-making seriously.

*Cool bonus: “Grand Marnier” provides a never-before-seen (at least in my quarter life) crepe eating device: plastic tongs! Genius! Beige in color and free for the taking, these tongs are also labeled with the “Grand Marnier” name – as are the napkins. Needless to say their investments have paid off.

[insert crepe pic]

“Grand Marnier’s” crepe is, hands down, the best nutella crepe I have ever consumed.

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Day Deux

Day 2 of the Festival started off beautifully. Crisp air, blue sky, sun shining.

Sophie, Lily, and I headed in to Cannes around midday to catch the Market Screening of “William Vincent,” a film that James Franco both starred in and produced with his company, ‘RabbitBandini.’ I’ll be honest, we (along with the students who showed up for the screening) were mostly holding out hope that the present-day James Dean would show up in-person to present his film to the 60-person market screening audience. He did not – and the film was beyond awful, soooo… 1 point James Franco, 0 points us.

Synopsis:

From James Franco’s RabbitBandini Productions comes the story of William Vincent, a man (Franco) who assumes a new identity for the sole purpose, it seems [read: NO purpose], of disappearing in plain sight. He is living in the shadows of New York City, until one day chance brings him in contact with a vague crime syndicate [keyword: vague] made up of a trio of unlikely criminals [read: uninteresting people], one of whom is Ann, the couresan/confidant of the syndicate boss. William and Ann fall in love almost immediately [without explanation – about as much build-up of a paltry RomCom], to the great displeasure of the Boss. When the Boss prohibits William from seeing Ann [senselessly], the reluctant criminal’s reaction is swift and extreme, and forces him to flee the city, leaving behind Ann and whatever small life he had constructed for himself [keyword: small (read: uneventful, hardly making a dent on anyone or anything, pointless – just like this plot)]. The film begins when William, after four years in exile, returns to the city to rescue Ann from her enslavement by the Boss [interesting’ish premise uninterestingly played out].

At least we all got a free glass of wine out of enduring the “my first film school” film. While we waited in line before the screening we were handed some petite glasses of vino by a couple of Festival waitresses. Methinks this was an attempt to drug us so we would enjoy the film. Unfortunately for them I don’t think we would’ve enjoyed it even if they had passed out pills of ecstasy and free passes to Euro Disney. This flimsy, painfully dull, wannabe-existential movie did not stand a chance – it tried WAY to hard. Better just stick to soap operas and weed movies, James.

Après le film, the students scattered to go catch more screening and Sophie headed back to Juan for dinner. Lily and I strolled along the International Village and walked through the park to grab some food at the little outdoor café by the carousel and fountain. (Same place I had that meet’n’eat session with Dr. Smith and those students a few days prior).

Feeling a bit Frenchy I ordered a classic dish, a Croque Monsieur (which is basically a glorified ham and cheese). Lily and I ate and enjoyed the bustling scenery before heading over to the Cinéma de la Plage (aka- Movie on the Beach).

We flashed our badges, were handed a plush, white, fleece ‘Stella Artois’ blanket (which now sits in my hotel room after I expertly smuggled it out – hey, gotta get souvenirs where you can!), and made our way up towards the front to grab a couple primo seats in the rows of cloth folding chairs.

Before long the familiar sounds of a man yelling, “Shoo-shoo! Shoo-shoo!,” reverberated into our eardrums. This is exactly what I had been waiting for. This same guy is here EVERY YEAR walking the aisles of cloth beach chairs selling his “shoo-shoos”, which are basically little plastic bags of praline-covered nuts. It’s 2€ for one bag or 3€ for two. Of course I opt for the two-bag option, so Lily and I can each enjoy a treat during the movie.

The movie playing on the screen out over the Med tonight is, “From Here to Eternity.” Ahh…a movie about Hawaii and the U.S. military as I sit on the beaches of southern France…could this BE anymore perfect for me?!?!

About halfway through the film we are distracted by the booming music and flashing lights of another projection. It seems that a Chinese cinema party is on and popping just a little ways down the beach from us. Lily and I attempt to stay focused on the large screen in front of us as best we can – we don’t want this to ruin our beach movie experience.

A half our later, just when we had successfully zoned out the noise from the neighboring party – FLASHES of FIREWORKS appear above our screen out over the waters of the Mediterranean. It was truly a moment worthy of “oos” and “ahhs.” We were mesmerized and taken aback as this would turn out to be the BEST fireworks show that Lily or I had ever experienced in our lives. Hands down. I immediately mentally apologize to the Chinese party people for the mean thoughts I had toward them earlier — because THIS was truly a spectacle. I’ve never seen anything like it. Amazing.

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Day 1 – Complete

I made it into Cannes hours after many of our unstoppable students had already gotten 3-4 film screenings under their belts. This is a whole new breed of participants, these students. Their excitement is palpable, but their humility remains intact throughout. They are wonderful.

Once I got off the train in sunny Cannes I stopped into 8 or 9 hotels, unfortunately, not making it past many of their lobbies. They were either too small to accommodate a group of our size OR they were already booked the entire 12 days of the Festival. I have a couple of strong leads with which I’ll need to follow up in the coming days. Both places have rooftop solariums that could seat 30 of us plus a speaker comfortably. Send good vibes my way in hopes that I can nail one of these places down – hopefully for the price of “gratuit” (though unlikely).

After my hotel search I popped in to my fave shoe store, André, to see what they had in stock for oh ten. I gave them lots and lots of Euros last year – which included the purchase of my FAVORITE tan, leather, peep-toe, wedges with the wooden heel — one of which is currently lost in G’boro, North Cakalaki from the weekend before I left. Long, sad story, but I guess that’s what a high school reunion of sorts can do to a person (or rather, a shoe). Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-al-co-hol. Oh well. And no such luck finding a replacement pair at Andre this year. I guess they are “so last season” already. Bummer.
*One fun note about my visit to André (Dan, pay attention here) – when I walked in the store I was met with the familiar sounds of Vampire Weekend’s latest song playing through the speakers. Ah, what a refreshing reminder of home.

I left the shoe mecca empty-handed (thank goodness for my bank account’s sake) and made my way through the criss-crossed streets up to the Croisette, the main drag of Cannes. I rendez-vous’d with Sophie and Lily at the American Pavilion to pick up my Festival-long pass to the Am Pav (another unprecedented coup for this year’s program participants). I was handed my Am Pav badge and two free drink tickets, so we wandered through the crowd of familiar accents and grabbed a table on the sunny patio.
Many of our students were there readying themselves to head out to the streets and beg for tickets.
Notice the difference between the girls’ signs (above) and the boys’ signs (below). Just an interesting gender study. Ha.
The boys went to change into their tuxes, and Lily and Sophie into their dresses, so I was left to sit on the patio by my lonesome sipping a (FREE) Stella and planning out which screenings/speakers I want to see.
After a bit more time lounging and scheduling out my next few days – I gathered my things and trekked back out into the winding streets in search of a daggum hotel/meeting space for our group. On my way to some familiar establishments I passed faces I knew on just about every corner. Students were holding up signs EVERYWHERE – and looking good doing it!
After I searched for more hotel meeting locations I attempted to make my way over to the doors in front of the Palais to meet up with Sophie and Lily, who had failed to land a ticket to the “Robin Des Bois” (aka- ‘Robin Hood’) premiere. However, I only made it so far before I was corralled in with the masses on the grasses due to the barricades EVERYWHERE. I felt like a bull being wrangled through the grid of rodeo barricades – I was trapped – and a cowboy was about to mount me. Wait, what? No. But I WAS trapped in the crowds…with a FANTASTIC view of the red carpet.
[insert Kate Bekinsale glamour shot here]
Can you say, ‘movie star’? People around me literally gasped when she started walking up the stairs with her dress draping dramatically behind her.
*Insider note: One of our more fashion-conscious students, Katie Kellogg, informed me later that she and Kate Bekinsale were wearing the SAME designer, Marchesa, during that first premiere night. That, to me, is impressive – considering most of my clothing can be found at your local Urban Outfitters or Target.
[insert picture of entire jury]
I call this “Blurry Jury.”
Next I saw the curvaceous Salma Hayek. Even from 200 yards away I felt like Roger Rabbit staring at Jessica Rabbit – I mean, bodies like hers do not exist elsewhere in the world. She looked amazing. Unfortunately, you’ll never know b/c I didn’t get a good enough picture to share it on here. Guess you’ll have to just catch it on “The Today Show.”
[insert picture of Russell Crowe giving a peace sign and Kate Blanchett looking so effortlessly beautiful it would make you sick]
…whenever the internet will upload one photo quicker than 3omin then I will post the aforementioned picutres – but for now you can just fantasize.
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