If yesterday’s late night insomnia gave me the taste of the vampire life, today’s sleep-deprived shambling no doubt approximated the daily travails of your average zombie.
It started promisingly enough with dinner at Wilbur’s Mexicana where I was joined by my long-time nemesis and occasional writing partner, Tara Yelland. The Wilbur in Wilbur’s Mexciana is Wilbur Scoville, the American pharmacist who devised the Scoville scale for testing the relative heat index of peppers…
You know how most places have salad bars? Well, this place had a hot pepper bar offering some six dozen assorted bottles of hot sauces ranging from “mild” to “you’re screwed”. Given my high tolerance for the stuff, I elected to go with a couple of hot – but not insanely so choices: scotch bonnet and orange habanero which both clock in at 150k – 325k scovilles. Compare to the wimpy jalapeño that comes in at somewhere between 2500 to 8000 scovilles.
They were spicy – but not inordinately so. In hindsight though, that after-dinner ice cream craving was telling. But, instead of ice cream, we headed to Buca Bar where we split a dessert platter that included samples of every sweet creation on the menu. With the exception of the pistachio zeppole that I ordered anyway.
In a misguided effort to avoid any late night stomach upset, I decided to forego alcohol in favor on a double espresso with cream and coffee sugar.
By the time we left, it had stopped raining and I was feeling like a million bucks!
By the time I got home ten minutes later, it was more like a buck and change and the remnants from the sandwich bag of dog kibble I try to pass off as “treats”.
Wired by the caffeine (I’m not a coffee drinker), I felt awake enough to watch Director Ron Murphy’s terrific cut of episode #109. I turned in at a somewhat late but still respectable 12:30, setting my alarm for 7:00 a.m. so I could head into the office early and write up my notes for the editor.
Right about 1:00 a.m., I headed downstairs and popped an antacid, figuring I’d curtail my burgeoning indigestion and still manage to get in about five and a half hours sleep.
When I headed down for a second antacid at 1:30 a.m., I wasn’t feeling any better – but I was nevertheless optimistic about a good five hour sleep.
Around 2:00 a.m., as I lay wide awake in bed, a thousand thoughts blazing through my head, my stomach simply blazing, I began to grow concerned about my possible four and a half hours of shuteye.
By 3:00 a.m., I was well past concerned and headed downstairs for a home remedy of apple cider vinegar and carbonated water – which actually helped the indigestion. But didn’t help my sleeplessness.
When 3:30 a.m. rolled around, I decided “Screw it!”, got up, took my laptop into the next room, and worked. By the time I was done and had copied Paul and Ivon on my edit notes, it was some time after 5:00 a.m.
I’m pleased to report that I did eventually fall asleep at 5:30. And, since I’d already completed those notes, was able to sleep in until a lazy 7:30.
Despite my sleep-addled stupor, I was able to get you the following pics. So, as my father used to say: “Don’t complain I don’t get you anything!”
Akemi bakes up pies for the cast and crew: pecan, and sour cream apple accompanied by sweet and unsweetened whipped cream. Both were gone by the end of lunch, the pecan in less than ten minutes!
Akemi helps me deliver the pies to the car.
Director Martin Wood takes time off from shooting episode #111 to check out the Miss Hawaiian Tropic pageant happening across the lot.
While, upstairs, Director Andy Mikita spent much of the afternoon trying to explain the True Detective finale to VFX Supervising Producer Lawren Bancroft-Wilson.
And that’s it! It’s an early night for me. Tomorrow = the press junket!
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