Adventures in Hollywood

G’night!

It is 10:35 here in France. The fireworks have just started. I don’t know why exactly, what for, but I just stepped out on my balcony and there it was – a magnificent light show worthy of the best July 4^th fireworks in the States. Because I am not facing the fireworks at first I thought Cannes was being bombed. I was deep into working on email when I heard BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. At first I thought, well this is a fine pickle. I am 6000 miles away from home and the city is being bombed. But what was missing from this scenario were screams. So, I ventured out on the balcony of my third floor pied a terre (small French apartment) and saw the fireworks reflected on the windows of the building across the street. The fireworks must have been shot off on the beach behind my building. It was lovely.

Perhaps the fireworks were a big congratulations to Angelina Jolie who is expecting twins. It’s big news here. Bigger than just about anything else going on here in Cannes except for the premiere of “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” (which I am seeing on Sunday.) I was in the bookstore at the San Francisco Airport on the way here and got a gorgeous great coffee table book about the history of “Indiana Jones.” It’s big bright and colorful and awesome and I think it will really help me remember the great history of this franchise.  I’ll be interviewing all the stars on Monday and I want to stun the cast with my knowledge and brilliance about the series. :-) 

If you send me an email by May 20 and tell me why you can’t wait to see “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” I will pick someone at random and send the lucky winner this book. It might even have my notes in the margin. Ah, the secrets of a reporter just might be revealed! (Send your email to DishDiva@microsoft.com )

So, here I am in France. When I was at Walt Disney World last week I thought that was pretty much the loneliest place to be alone. (You try riding It’s a Small World alone. The person who loads the boats asked me “How many?”

I said “One.”

She said “No kids?”

I said “Gee, no, just me but thanks for reminding me” and I jumped into the boat.

That’s sort of how it was tonight. I checked into the press office earlier today to get my press pass (it’s pink!) and then wandered all over the beachfront to the different hotels gathering information. (By the way—I refer to the color of my press badge not just because I am wild about pink but because there is a very definite division among the colors of badges. White is best followed by pink, blue and the dreaded yellow. The color of your badge designates when you can enter a screening. So all the White press (so to speak) get to enter a screening first, followed by pink, then blue and so on. If there are 1000 white press badges who want to see a screening, the Pinks, Blues and Yellows are pretty much outta luck. I’m happy with pink though. I had yellow a couple years ago and it sucked.

After I got my badge (which you are supposed to guard with your life. It has your photo on it but there is a big black market for stolen badges) and my press kits I swung by my little apartment, took another glorious shower, changed into some black capris, a grey cashmere sweater and a blue scarf tied ever so French devil-may-care around my neck, threw my hair up in a chignon and decided to grab dinner out.

I am alone. I am also on a street called Rue Commandant Andre which is chock full of dozens of little outdoor cafes, peppered with candles and people in black, impossibly thin smoking their slim French cigarettes and drinking fabulous wine. There were all tables of two, three, six, ten. . .

I decided to eat in tonight. I swung by the Champion Supermarche to buy some provisions. I would make myself a fabulous French dinner. So I bought a baguette, plums, tangerines, Perrier, coffee, cream, carrots and then I was stuck. I swung by the frozen food aisle and I couldn’t figure out what the entrees were. I think I bought a quiche. I walked home feeling very French with my baguette and carrots peeking out of the bag. I  then tried to read the box for directions. Yeah, I thought I knew French. But the French they teach you in high school doesn’t help with deciphering cooking directions. It got worse. I have this strange microwave with options I can’t figure out. What is PUISSANCE? HORLOGE? I have no idea. If you’re reading this and know French, please help me make dinner! Right now the carrots are looking like they might be dinner.

Also, I am homesick. I miss Major Nelson. I miss American television. Then I had a BRILLIANT idea! If you’ve been to MSN you know that MSN Video has dozens and dozens of full length television drama/comedy/sitcom etc. episodes. I was dying to watch “How I Met Your Mother” tonight (since I can’t understand anything on the twelve channels I get in the apartment. I did find myself, however, mesmerized by Italian TV. I kept thinking that if I watched long enough I would just start to absorb what they were saying).

So I settled in and tried to watch. Unfortunately, the full episodes are only available in the United States. If you are lucky enough to be in the U.S., however, then you are one lucky lucky person. MSN Video SAVED me when I was traveling recently and the TV was out in my room. I turned on my laptop and cozily watched  episodes of “The Office” and “Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” I love love love this ability to watch full episodes on my laptop. I feel like I am in command and everything I want is at my fingertips. Check out MSN Video for more full length episodes of your favorite shows than you can even watch in one night.

I’m going to go tackle the microwave now.

Bon soir!