TWO HUNDRED NINETY-TWO

SONG OF THE DAY #292
Sunday, March 6th, 2011
Sexy Back (feat. Timbaland)
by Justin Timberlake

FESTIVAL DAY THREE

RPH Desk Duty from 9 to 1 today; so tired from last night that I drove home, napped on the couch to SoulStage featuring India.Arie, and went back to work at 5. At the RPH in the AM I met Julio Hernández Cordón, director of Marimbas. Walked him through the check-in process, but forgot to tell him to meet me for the introduction. Told him to meet me in the lobby at 6 for the shuttle to the Gusman-- the Susanne Bier tribute he'd wanted to go see. It was 6:20 and Julio is nowhere to be found. Finally, after going back and forth to see Elena with Sebastián Hiriart from A Tiro de Piedra-- and being asked for weed-- I finally got in contact with Julio, who was still in his room. Told him the tribute shuttle had left, and that Elena and Sebastián were waiting for him at Happy Hour to hang out until his screening. Warned Elena "not a minute after 9:00," and left for the Gusman. Met Oscar with some kind of plede buddy/date, and sat to watch some of In A Better World before heading back to the Royal Palm at around 8:30. It's 9:20 and Julio isn't in the lobby. Finally he gets in, runs to the room to get his tickets, and we get in his friend's Jeep and drive to the Regal. Parking: $20. Making it to a screening with minutes to spare: Priceless. Tech check good, friend cool. Eventually I introduce the film, after which I go outside with the microphone (that has YET TO BE TURNED OFF! HAHA) to ask Julio what he's planning. I give him my festval number and send him on his way. Jose comes running out of the theater to grab the microphone and turn it off. "It was on." I melt. Julio has disappeared. It's my first introduction and my job is to stay with the director. Thirty seconds later, I second-guess myself and literally run out of the theater to look for Julio to say "Look, I'm coming. Deal with it." I never found him, thank god. Instead, though, I found Andres, who was meandering the streets of Miami Beach. This chance encounter is my first festival miracle. We talked for a bit, about The Last Circus, babysitting Directors, and Serbians, who apparently drink until sunrise, and he convinced me that letting Julio go was a good idea. "He knows when to come back. He does this for a living. Plus, he's been in Miami before. He will not get lost. Just take it easy. Go watch the film. Have good time." I sigh and sit to watch the film. Julio comes back on schedule, I translate for the Q&A, and then we head over to the (818) party, at what felt like a gay club. After about a minute and a half, I bolt. Everyone else stays. I walk back to the Royal Palm from Washington and 13th or something, get on my bike, head over to the 21st lot, and go home. Tomorrow there's a class I won't be going to.