It wasn't too hard for me to get back into life in the suburbs. I hadn't felt homesick whatsoever in France (despite some pangs reminding me of eating guacamole and watching movies in the basement with my family, I was too busy enjoying myself), but suddenly sleeping in my bed, waking up (early, even!) to make my own espresso and toast, and walking the dog were all thrilling.
I commute to Atlanta three times a week to intern at The Atlantan, a luxury lifestyle magazine. It's pretty fun to get all dolled up and listen to hip hop on my drive into Buckhead, and everyone at the office is really nice. Three other college girls are interning there too--we have a cute cluster of cubicles near the "kitchen" (read: free gummi bears) and Sarah C's desk and its illustrious "beauty box" (free samples of Shiseido and some super expensive sunscreen! holy cow!)--and all the editors prank on each other over lunch. Some highlights: playing chicken in the parking lot of Taqueria del Sol (and pissing off a slow-driving old lady) on Friday and looking into an editorial meeting with the Sarahs, Danny, and Travis on Monday. I'm still a bit awkward around the office, and I still don't know if this is the right thing for me, but it's so nice to be working out the kinks with such an inviting group of people.
I've had a few princess and the pauper moments with my second job as a rental clerk back at dear old Hollywood Video. I'm the only intern to have/need another job, and a pretty low-class one at that, but going to work three minutes away from my house is even cooler than it used to be compared to my hour-long commute to north Atlanta! I've rented five movies over two shifts; I've always been a nut about my free rental perks, but after getting to see free movie after free movie at Cannes I've had quite a void to fill.
Tonight, Mom and I watched Barton Fink, the Coen brothers' film that won the Palme d'Or in 1991. I was instantly amazed at how quickly the "Cannes feeling" came back watching this old awardee--I could see myself sitting in the pink armchairs of the Palais (albeit with bigger hair and more sequins), listening to the weird Beauty and the Beast intro music, feeling like the movie is too long and challenging even though it's in my own language for once. I'm not sure what to make of Barton Fink and have postponed looking at other reviews as long as possible to try to work it out on my own. I keep going back to good acting and great cinematography (hearing the waves whenever Barton looked at the picture of the beach put me in his mind, and probably made me feel a bit crazy for all of it), but when I can barely make heads or tails of what really happened or what didn't I have to think: Is it futile? Is it one of those filmic "fuck you"s that Cannes is famous for, a la Wild at Heart or All That Jazz? In the end, is the film so shallow, so intentionally convoluted and pointless plot-wise, that you're supposed to think it's deep? For all that I want to hate it or refuse to dignify it with any further mention, I did enjoy watching it. I think Cannes has either made me really tolerant or really obsessive.
1 comment:
Nice posts. I really enjoyed reading these last two entries and seeing what you've been up to post-Cannes. I can't explain it but I feel like I look at films somewhat differently now. I watched "Paris, Je T'aime" a few days after I got back in the States and really enjoyed it. I nodded my head in agreement and recognition at a few of the France sights and French moments (such as the American tourist asking a question in french and having the french person respond in english! hahaha).
anyway, glad you're doing well with your dual summer life. keep in touch.
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