TWO HUNDRED NINETY-NINE

SONG OF THE DAY #299
Sunday, March 13th, 2011
The Only Living Boy in New York
by Simon & Garfunkel

FESTIVAL DAY TEN

The time changed last night, and today I was supposed to be at the Royal Palm Hotel at nine. That did not happen. Nine and a half hours later, when I actually woke up, I felt great! I ate breakfast, I watched SNL, and I had genuine silence for a few hours. Just genuine silence and rest after a week and a half of the complete opposite was fantastic. I'm a bum, but I like it. He he... I walked around the house all day, nappin' with my dog and shiz, and watching SNL. Whene everyone got home, I went to my room to finish watching In a Better World, and then I brought out Garden State to have a moment. It was great again! Then I had a frustrating conversation and went to sleep. The end.

TWO HUNDRED NINETY-FOUR

SONG OF THE DAY #294
Tuesday, March 8th, 2011
Faerie Dance
by Plants and Animals

FESTIVAL DAY FIVE

RPH industry viewing library 10-11:30, had a long convo w/ Angel Soto about financing projects, directing, selling, emotion, and selling emotion.
Class @ 12:30
Crazy assembly, like recently it's been happening..
Headed home, ate a sandwich, watched the judging of an Iron Chef episode, and fell asleep for about 2 hours. Was brutally awoken by a spray bottle. Unhappy about that. No help with clothes, disappointed about that. Off to work again.
7:30 liaison to Andrew Rossi - Page One: A Year Inside the New York Times
Sat w/ D for screening
10:00 liaison to Marshall Curry - If A Tree Falls
Pasha's
Jury-infused after-party.
The party was lame, and it was a cash bar. They ruin it for all of us. Habían cuatro gatos y cobraban. ¡Nombre no!
After walking around and trying to get into the W for at least some water, got rained on and dropped off the Jubin Bros. at their respective hotels and came home listening to Van Van.

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.

TWO HUNDRED NINETY-ONE

SONG OF THE DAY #291
Saturday, March 5th, 2011
Secondhand News
by Fleetwood Mac

and

Map of the World
by Gonzales

FESTIVAL DAY TWO

Today was crazy. So crazy, in fact, that I'm writing this on my down time at RPH the next morning. Woke up early and got to RPH at 9. At around 10, Danette calls me to pick up the Producers and Cast of 50 Cent's film Things Fall Apart. WHAT?! Jesus, ok. Went over there and while waiting with them to go to the Betsey, experienced my first Hollywood Douchebags moment (standoffish executive producers who belittle interns and think they own the city, producers who are habitually late to their own press conferences, producer's wife, who is only in the film because she's the producer's wife, and producer's mother, who is so incredibly over-indulgent that you can tell she's become accustomed to the luxuries of the biz). Got to te press conference with the crew, and it was a success. 50 got there, too, albeit raspando con tiempo. The thing went off without a hitch. Took the car back to the Royal Palm at around 12:30, and I was scheduled to leave at 1. Basically my shift was done. I can't remember what I did after that, but at 4:30 I got on my bike and went to see You Are Here at the Regal, liaised by Diliana and introduced by Andres. The Premiere of Things Fall Apart was later at night at the Gusman. It was the night of the first emergency. Danette asked me to head over there just in case it rained, to be ready with a back-up planand to help with reserved seating. I did both of these and stayed to watch the film up in the balcony with Lani. After the screening, hell broke loose. After the Q&A, Tim the assistant and I had to find Danette and ask her what the hell was going on with Transportation, seeing as our cars were missing and no one answers their phone. Met everyone backstage only to discover that the cars were still not in place. When they finally got there, the festival team got in one of the SUVs with Randall and the rest of the behind the scenes gang, and Mario and his SO got inside the next one. Little did the second driver know, the director wasn't the only one scheduled to ride in that car. He left me qith half the cast on the sidewalk, waiting for a car that would come almost ten minutes later-- it was the same car that decided to double back. The rest of the cast got in and on their way, and Rachel, who also went to grab her car, took the rest of the entourage back to the beach. I was supposed to go see The Last Circus with Andres and Jaife at midnight, but no. Things Fell Apart instead. At 12:30 I met Jaife by MDC, who had been waiting since before midnight. We missed the film, and pulled a hangout instead. Talked about jumping in pools, the moon, and other things I can't remember. Just being in a car with Jaife at that point, and my festival phone being off, was all I needed. Got home pretty late, and hit the sheets right away. It was the second day, and it was ridiculous.

TWO HUNDRED NINETY

SONG OF THE DAY #290
Friday, March 4th, 2011
Disco Azúcar
by Los Van Van

FESTIVAL DAY ONE

TODAY was the first day at the Royal Palm Hotel. I got up late because of last night, and went to work. 1-5 at the checkin desk, followed by the official opening of the Festival with Chico & Rita at the Gusman. Van ride over to the Freedom Tower for the Opening Night party. Free everything and a live band. Got to know some people a whole lot better. Drunken coworkers are fun as hell. Now it's 1 AM, and I'm hitting the sheets. I have to be back at RPH in 8 hours, which means I have to leave the house in 7, which in turn means that I have to wake up in 5 1/2.

On the way to the Festival, Roberto gave me some "words of wisdom" that sounded more like "words of douchery," followed by a very cynical action. Gives me crap about being late and then gets down to smoke a cigarette in front of the Gusman - the venue I supposedly made him late to. GARGH!

Music-wise it was Iron & Wine en route everywhere until after the party, at which point it was salsímbiri completo.

Spent some time on the bike to and from the RPH and the lot, and dropping off Van Peebles' welcome packet at the W hotel.