The Terminal

Boy, were we tired.

... I really didn't feel like writing or talking about it yesterday because I was just so tired. Rachel spent the night on Wednesday here because she lives on the south shore with her parents, and we had a bus call at 5:00 a.m. at Berri (at the bus terminal) to get to Mirabel airport at about 7:00 a.m. So we were supposed to wake up at 3:30 or so but everyone kept us up until way after midnight, and I ended up not wanting to wake up at all until Jorgh was telling me "It's 4:40! Wake up!"

There was this mad rush to get everything together because I didn't pack or eat or anything. Then I had to wake up Rachel, who was still in a state of half-coma but managed to get her stuff together in record time. Everything was such a hurry because it takes half an hour to get downtown usually during normal hours (so how long would it take to get there under such craziness?) and we had to find a cab.

Of course, finding a cab at 5 a.m. in Montreal is like finding a cab at any other time in Montreal, which is relatively easy and sometime misintentioned. The cabbie was quick but not crazy-quick like other drivers of cabs I have taken who like to think they can break laws of physics. We made it by the terminal at 4:58 a.m., and got a receipt from the guy for $11.45. (That's amazing. It usually costs 12 bucks just to get to McGill, and that's *closer.*)

We climbed onto a school bus whose drivers claimed it went to Mirabel. There were all sorts of people who seemed to come from all sorts of backgrounds. Then the bus idled... (Oh geez. The shuttle was slotted to leave at around 5:30. GD those bastards on the phone!)

We arrived at Mirabel, but there was seemingly no real indication that there was a massive Spielberg-Hanks production going on inside. When we got inside, there were signs and people hanging around who seemed to be from the production. But in the end, Mirabel looked exactly as it did back in 2000 when Jorgh was supposed to be leaving for France. (ie. quiet, deserted, pretty pathetic.)

The Deep, Dark, Secret

Rachel and I were told individually earlier this week that we were supposed to have a "winter" set of clothes and a "spring" set of clothes, that were of bright colours and no "black or white." Also, we had to bring a carry-on luggage of a sort, but since we were bringing backpacks it was supposed to be sufficient. Well, doing just this, we were analysed by the wardrobe department, especially by one of the girls, who then thought we were not quite sufficient.

"I can't decide which I want to make you - the funky students or the chinese-y style."

...
Indeed, this is the deep, dark secret.
...

The Rest of the Day

We barely had time to eat a muffin and apple after wardrobe and props, and thus we were whisked away to the set.

I seriously thought the rest of the day was just a total sleep-fest. In fact, we both slept at some point, Rachel more than I, because there was nothing much. Usually, they'd tell us to move around or something, in a vague direction or natural direction, but no one told us to move or anything, so we spent a while standing in one spot, or a while walking, or a while just standing in line. Additionally, we had no idea what they were filming, so there was barely any clue as to what was going on.

We had a craptastic box'o'lunch with a huge roastbeef sandwich on a panini bread. Both of us were sick of the bread, and the food was generally bad. In the meantime, Robert (the agent from C501) was a background extra working that day as well, and since he's an Actra member, got a choice of either "steak, fish, or a ravioli-thing."

... grumble grumble.

Montreal, What Happened to Thee?

They let us out at 5:00 p.m., but I got home at about 8 or so. In the meantime, during the day, some sort of demonstration (ie a bunch of people walking around protesting) happened which caused the buses to stop.

What? I leave town for a day and this happens? Why??? :o

I was so tired that I went to bed at 10. The end.