I'm in Cannes. I don't know anybody here and my hotel's not even in Cannes, it's in the next town over. I fell off the wagon last night quite intentionally and today instead of rays of Chinese energy shooting out of my fingertips I feel small and sad and insignificant and my life feels devoid of meaning.

I met a local guy named Laurent and watched the US-Italy match at a pub. I didn't know who to support: The Italians are my team because I picked Italy out of a cup in the office lottery, and the US, well, because I'm American. Happily, it ended 1-1.

Afterwards I ate pasta, and it was quite yummy. The red wine was quite cold. I had to take a taxi home because the buses stop running at night.