wake up, make pancakes
test food for poison… wait, what?
you’re not important
wake up, make pancakes
wake up, make pancakes
test food for poison… wait, what?
you’re not important
Although my last official day of university (ever!) was this past Monday, I opted to skip it for background work on the set of a new mini-series they are filming here in Alberta. It’s called Klondike, appropriately named as it’s about the Klondike Gold Rush that took place in the Yukon in the late 1890s.
The point of this post isn’t so much the mini-series, but rather one funny encounter I had with a fellow extra.
So anyways, I’m standing on set as the crew and the above actor prep for the scene. There are a number of us extras standing around waiting in the mud and snow. We’re dressed in our 1890s costumes, complete with terrible constricting shoes which suffocate the toes and provide zero protection against the cold. Actually, I think most of the guys had pretty adequate shoes, but the ladies… not so much. No idea how women managed to keep their toes back then. There were a number of times I was worried mine might fall off, and I even had those foot warmers surrounding my feet like armour (not that they did anything). Anyways, I’m digressing.
So as this scene is being prepped, myself and a guy beside me (very nice guy who I got to know a little bit throughout the day) start talking. At one point he looks at me and says
Him: Hey have you ever seen Game of Thrones?
I laugh to myself because not only have I seen it, I’m completely obsessed with it. But rather than doing what I want to do (which is to yell YES OF COURSE! in delight, run over and become new best friends with the actor, and then discuss the series nonstop with everyone I encounter because I am indeed THAT annoying crazy fan), I instead say with an air of determined indifference
Me: Yeah, I’ve seen it a few times.
More like repeatedly. But I attempt to maintain some level of dignity. The guy points to the actor and says
Him: Look at that guy. He looks exactly like Robb Stark!
Immediately after he says this the biggest grin washes across my face and I start laughing.
Me: Are you joking right now?
Him: No, why? You don’t think so?
Me: Well, of course I think so. Because he is Robb Stark.
Him: It’s the same actor?
I nod and the obviousness of reality smooths over his face, comprehension dawning.
That’s my story. I best get back to packing up now. Did I mention that Liam and I are moving very soon (next week!) into a house of our very own? Quite excited! But am finding the task of packing up my entire life very daunting. So much stuff to go through and I feel like having a nap just thinking about it.
Happy Wednesday everyone.
Warning: This post is
almost certainly useless, and probably a waste of your time.
The other day I tweeted about compiling a post composed solely of pictures of my puppy sleeping. Since then I have been taking a lot of sleepy pictures of him in preparation, thinking that I would need to collect them over the course of a few weeks. But then this morning I decided to take a look and see how many pictures I have already. As it turns out, I have a lot. Presumably I have nothing better to do than sit around taking pictures of my poor, unsuspecting, snoozing puppy.
I realised that if I wait much longer, I’ll end up having hundreds of these pictures, and this post will never come to fruition. Or if it does, there will end up being so many photos that it will be impossible to look at them all before dying. I figured I’d better do it now.
I mean…. on the one hand I could get a life, but nahh… let’s make them into a blog post!
I guess my priorities have been made clear… so here we go:
How to sleep and look cute at the same time, as presented by Rupert.
Have a good Saturday everyone 🙂
Do you ever utilize the fake “I’m awake” voice in the morning?
I’m sure you know what I’m talking about..
It’s 10 am, creeping closer to noon, and you’re still sound asleep; all snuggled up and comfy in bed. You might feel guilty (if you were conscious) because your spouse woke up bright and early to go to work (to benefit the both of you, I might add). Or perhaps cancel the spouse. You’re still sleeping despite the fact that you have mountains of work to get done that you haven’t even started yet. You told yourself you would do it, and yet nothing is getting crossed off the list because you are still drowning in the drool on your pillow.
Days like these are funny because we all deserve a rest day now and then (right?), yet it’s hard to justify them when everyone else in the world seems to be up and about curing diseases, serving justice, and conquering mountains. Your family and friends are becoming better and brighter people while you are drifting lazily in dream land. But you don’t care, you’re asleep!
Until the phone rings, that is, and you groggily look at the caller ID to see that your spouse, or your mom, or whoever, is calling you. You look at the time and realise you’ve wasted half the day in bed, and things that ought to have been done hours ago remain unattended, and indeed, completely neglected. You imagine the disbelief they will have in their voice if you answer the phone only to tell them the terrible truth.
“You’re STILL sleeping??” they will say with that undertone of arrogance and incredulity that you loathe.
You just can’t let that happen. You still deny the reality of your procrastination even to yourself, so instead of owning up to your lazy ass, you decide instead to implement your fake “I’m awake” voice. The voice you muster up despite your hoarse morning throat, to prove to that caller that you, just like them, have been up since dawn, attending to various chores and necessities with vigilance.
So you prepare yourself, and hurriedly cough out the frogs from your throat. You take hold of the phone like you’ve been awake since 6 in the goddamn morning and have had the absolute most grueling day ever, tackling task after daunting task.
With utmost gusto, you press the answer button and say “Hello?” as clear, concise, crisp, and lively as it is possible to pretend. You are the master of feigning productivity. Your caller responds none the wiser as you answer their questions seamlessly, smiling at your success as you begin the arduous task of rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
You are the great pretender, stealing audience love with your profound performance. Well done, masterful one. Now back to bed.
The date: Feb 12, 2013. The time: 8:55 am. The rush: Rehearsal starting in 5 minutes.
Yesterday was a strange one. Sleeping didn’t go well, and waking up only got worse. The boyfriend startled me awake in an angry frenzy. For some odd reason he was convinced that I’d turned his alarm clock off and thus was responsible for his being late to an important day at work, and also probably for the sun’s inevitable explosion.
And no, he wasn’t right. I didn’t turn it off, I hadn’t even gotten the chance yet since it was only 5:30…. meaning his alarm wouldn’t be going off for another 20 minutes. Yeah, thanks for the extra early wake up, honey bunches. Seems such a silly thing, but somehow that didn’t stop his delirium from pissing me right off and escalating us into a fight before we’d even been awake for 3 minutes.
The fight didn’t last long, in case you were wondering. When finally the fatigued confusion wore off, and we had the sense to digest the facts accurately -being that he thought it was an hour later than it actually was- and that he was being a completely unreasonable jerk (could be that I’m the only one who agreed to this last point), we made up and life continued.
But that story isn’t the point of this post… I just wanted to give some background information into my state of mind before getting into the juicy story that’s coming up…
….ahem… (why are you still reading this).
Okay, so I’m over tired, didn’t sleep well, and had a strange wake up. Tuesday mornings are my early rehearsal day, we start at 9 (this is pretty intense if you’re me). So I drive in, somewhat on the late side (but not doing too bad), and manage to get a good parking spot. I walk hurriedly up to the lobby of the parkade where there are two pay stations to use. Unfortunately, both are only just occupied by one guy and one girl who happened to beat me there by a mere fraction of a second.
So I’m waiting patiently and checking on the time since I know I have somewhere to be very shortly. The time: 8:55 am. As I wait seemingly patiently, the buddy at pay station 1 decides that now is a GREAT time to go on a flirt fest with girl at pay station 2. So as I stand there waiting, I am listening to an agonizing attempt at flirtation, and some of the worst sounding small talk that I have EVER heard in my entire life. I was feeling pretty bad for the girl, and the guy, but still I stood there politely waiting to use the machine to pay.
The time: 8:57 am. The guy has finished punching in his license plate number and now has his ticket. But he is too occupied with flirting to move his ass away from in front of the machine. So I am now just an invisible spectator being hindered from my task because this guy feels the need to embarrass himself so early in the morning. I’m thinking to myself, oh my god, is he going to get out of the way so I can get my ticket?, as I think this I just get more annoyed. Time is ticking and I’m not about to be late for this guy’s horrendous timing choices. I have no choice but to interrupt.
“So…” I begin, I think it’s the first time they have noticed my presence, “Can I use the machine now?”
Buddy whips around as if I have just appeared from the dust. “Huh, what?” he says with stupidity.
And I am even more annoyed at his oblivion.
I repeat myself. “Can I use the machine now? Or do you need to keep standing there a little longer?”
The girl at the other station bursts out laughing and the guy is now looking totally deflated and embarrassed. He moves away in confusion and mumbles “oh, huh, sorry” before bee-lining it to the door.
So to the guy who flirted at the pay station: I’m sorry that I embarrassed you. And even more sorry that you are a terrible flirt.
But that’s just how it rolls when I have no sleep and no time to edit my words.