oops there goes the weekend.

Well that was an excessive weekend. Yikes. Probably due to having Friday off and the sun finally blasting Vancouver, everyone seemed in high spirits and ready to enjoy every second of it. Except Franz, who got blasted with a random intense sinus infection that even called for a doctor’s visit and prescription antibiotics. He currently hates me due to my adventures this weekend and the fact that he could not partake. Sorry again Franz, please still love me.

Good Friday day drinking began with me arriving in Kits only to have our original plan foiled. Our pub of choice was not open yet, so after meeting up with Amanda and her visiting brother Gavin, we headed to the only bar open at 1 pm on a religious holiday, Kitsilano Billiards. Number one choice for single men in their late fifties who are borderline alcoholics playing pool by themselves. We settled in and the bartender was eyeing us curiously and I almost thought he was gonna shoo us out yelling “damn youngins!”. But alas, Gavin’s first order was tequila shots so he warmed up to us, even though he had no clue what kind of tequila he even had. First yikes. Jordan, Byron and Sean showed up slowly after and the boys quickly began a pool game of East vs West (Byron and Gavin being from Newfoundland, Jordan and Sean from Vancouver of course). Amanda and I started gossiping as girls do. After telling me a story of a past relationship, Amanda gave me yet another fabulous quote that I had to write down for future scripts. This was the second time she did, the first still being scribbled on a receipt I carry in my wallet. This one was:

“I’m not over-emotional, you’re under-emotional”.

Within half an hour the bartender came by with more tequila for us ladies, on the house. Second shot before 3 pm and free? Second yikes. We wandered on over to Elwoods, my favourite pub in all of Vancouver for many, many reasons. It is dear to my heart.

lime summers.

We were joined by Alexis, Brittany and Graham and the fun times continued. Finally 6 hours into drinking, Jordan, Graham and I hoped into a cab to get to the Commodore downtown early to get extra tickets for the show we were all heading to, which was for the flawless and ridiculously talented Donald Glover. We settled in to wait for the show to begin, and this was when I started getting texts from Byron claiming how drunk he was. I got 3 texts in a row all in the form of “omg I’m drunk” “holy shit I am so drunk” and “so, so drunk”. He was still standing and lucid though when he showed up, like a good newfoundland boy would be. The show was phenomenal as I expected to be. Donald came out and did a stand-up before his rap show started and he was insanely funny. His rapping was great and the crowd was really into it, and knew all the songs by heart so there was some great sing alongs.

Donald Glover, I want your life. And your Emmy.

After the show it was only 10 pm so we all headed to the Morrissey for more drinks because apparently we had not had enough. Third yikes. After coming out of the bathroom I ran into none other than Stephen Martin, a good friend of mine that I have not seen for way too long due to him working on about 4 projects at once and not getting enough sleep. I yet again ran into VFS students, who as usual asked me questions about my time at school to which I always say: I enjoyed my experience but god damn their post-production program sucks. Not just VFS, any film school in general. Always outdated. I freaked them out a bit. To quote one of them “post-production scares me now”. Fourth yikes. Around midnight our crew started leaving having been drinking for way too long, but apparently my German liver was not done so Alexis and I went to the Irish Heather to have a nightcap with Jeremy. Fifth yikes. 

I woke up the next morning (or same day actually) on 6 hours of sleep and went to the horse races with Byron and Katie. I was gonna put on a floppy hat and rock the Horse Track look but then realized it wasn’t 1942 so I settled on a sundress and cardigan. It was a gorgeous warm day, finally. Vancouver has been unnaturally cold this April so it was nice to rock bare legs for the first time this year. I got overly excited walking up to the tracks hearing the trumpets going off. Byron was just shaking his head at me. Hastings Park opened in 1889 so it has rad history.

I lost all my bets.

I beelined for the beer line, cause apparently 12 hours of solid drinking and limited sleep has not traumatized my liver yet. Anyway, the races were hilarious to me. At first I was impressed by the exterior and old timey guy on the speakers, but when I went through the inside slot casino to get to the less busy inside bar I was creeped out by the fluorescent rooms with hundreds of TVs playing races from all over the world with tons of people watching with their record books betting. I felt like I was on a movie set. The guy who served me beer was like 80 and probably had worked there since the 1960’s, straight up. Katie and I went to go check out the horses but left terrified from the small jockeys. Holy shit. Simpsons got that parody straight on. Jeremy and his friend Darryl came out as well. The guys all won money, Katie and I didn’t. For shame. It also took me 10 tries repeating to myself “5 on number 5 for place” to make my bet properly without screwing up. It was still warm and sunny out by 4:30 when the races ended so I head with Jer and Darryl to Main street for more patio drinking. 14$ sangria pitchers? Yes please. Sixth yikes. Ethan joined in as well and after 4 pitchers we headed to Gastown to visit their friend Daniel Wesley while he was recording his new album. Even though Jer has introduced me to Daniel several times and he has been in my house and in our recent music video, I never made the connection it was the lovely and talented DANIEL WESLEY until we got to this recording studio, which was Bryan Adam’s recording studio. Seventh yikes. Also, I’m an idiot. We got the tour and it was drop dead gorgeous. Jer and I were eyeing a sexy white and gold Gretsch and the sound assistant Adam informed us it was Matt Good’s and I died a little since I am a super fan after all. We got to watch the recording process a bit, Greig Nori of Treble Charger fame is producing. He’s also the guy you see on MuchMusic’s show about discovering new talent, he is the band’s per episode music guru. He is a tiny little guy. Could be a jockey even. Sorry Greig. By 11 pm though, I was running out of steam. My body finally called it quits. And despite the good company, gorgeous studio in Gastown and beautiful night, I needed my bed. So I bid everyone goodnight, got in a cab, and fell asleep by 11:30 pm. I woke up the next day wondering how the hell I get into these random situations, but I guess it’s cause I have the pleasure of knowing kick ass people in Vancouver who are always up for a good time.

Long weekend, you were good.

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fake fridays

Fake Fridays are the best. You feel a bit lighter. Hence, it’s doing wonders for my restlessness, finally bringing it down to a moderate Yellow. Thursday before Good Friday, thank you. The one day of the year that us TV and Film folk manage to get off once in awhile.

To recap last weekend, I started off my Friday by convincing some dude I was a porn star. Actually, there was no convincing needed, he assumed and I didn’t correct him. I was at the Fairview waiting for Drew, Jordan and Sean to show up so I bought a whiskey and headed on over to the one spare chair to watch the band play. The second I sat down a fetching lad named Andrew from Calgary who lays cement approached me. I always attract the winners. He was clearly drunk but not slurring yet and his eyes were still acute and not glazed over. After some small talk about our names and such, he asked what I do, and here was the convo.

 Me

I work in the film industry as –

Andrew

Porn?

Me

Yes. Porn.

Andrew

Wow. Cool. What kind of porn?

Me

Hardcore.

 Andrew

Right on. Yeah I heard Vancouver has a big porn scene.

Me

It’s cause we’re so close to Los Angeles.

 Andrew

Cool.

 …..

Andrew

Are you joshing me right now?

Me

No. Why do I not look like a porn star?

Andrew (eyes directly to my chest)

No, you definitely look like a porn star.

 Me

You know what’s the worst about working in porn?

 Andrew is all ears.

 Me

The smell. Oh there are my friends! Nice meeting you.

 Thanks to my cinematography teacher Jason for that last tidbit. Back in 2005 when I was in his class he offered me that piece of info after telling me he used to work on set for porn cause it was great money.

P.S If I put all my efforts into it, I could totally pull off being a porn star right? RIGHT?

the smudged lipstick gives me my edge.

Yes, this is a still of me playing a slutty girlfriend from web series Hanging Tough.

Anyway, on Saturday Franz I were browsing Winners when he uttered my fave Franz quote of the week. As he walked at a snail’s pace trying to text at the same time and not hearing anything I was saying, I told him I hated when he was doing his “zombie text walk” to which he said:

 “I know, God I wish there was a voice texting app or something”

…… to which I replied:

“You mean like calling someone?”

Sunday we had to finish the Like a Martyr music video, which meant going up to Dom’s rooftop in the depths of East Van past China Town in his loft type apartment. The view was pretty sweet, but the building was pretty shady. As in we thought it would collapse any moment. Dom didn’t disappoint though, in true Dom fashion he greeted Matt in the morning by taking a shit on the toilet in the nude with no bathroom door attached. Needless to say, Matt got the keys from him and quickly left to pick up the gear. The video shoot went well even though we were a bit rushed. Jeremy decided to sport his eagle wife beater top in the first warm day of pure sun in Vancouver and promptly got burnt. We went to return the camera with Ben, which involved him speeding through Vancouver with Franz in the backseat trying to offload the memory cards on his laptop and having a semi-panic attack when they were being bitches and giving us errors. We decided to head back to the roof after for some Sunday day drinking. Hey if you have a rooftop and some sun, why not? Ben announced we were stopping for sandwiches before and took us to a little gem that I am SO STOKED TO HAVE DISCOVERED. Anyone who knows me, knows my obsession of sandwiches, I love them. A good sandwich is an art form, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Ben took us to Big Lou’s Butcher Shop in Gastown and God damn, they make some amazing sandwiches. Franz and I chowed down their porchetta, fatty pork belly with fresh chimichurri on ciabatta bread. To.Die.For. Super old school in there, super awesome.

We then spent 3 hours pounding back 45 old mil’s and shooting the shit listening to a ghetto blaster we managed to make work using an extension cord leading from the kitchen. As any day drinking day should. It was truly glorious.

perfect. semisonic is on.

Now another weekend awaits me, a long weekend. Good Friday day drinking tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll have some stories to tell about that one. For now I’m trying out my summer wedges I just found in my closest from 2005 that Franz insisted I pull out to rock this summer in cut offs, and enjoying a Peroni. Italian beer, my German father would kill me…

yes that is my suitcase from christmas berlin trip 2010, do not judge.