Well if I ain’t the luckiest kween in Los Angeles right now.
Last week I got to go to NOLA to shoot an episode of the second season of THE PURGE. (Do you watch that show? It’s fucking nuuuuts.)
I’ve been to NOLA probably six times in my life, and it is always magic, without fail. But this time, tra la la, I got to fly first class and be carted around in fancy cars with a driver and shit. Look, I’m not above swooning over those types of things; they are such a rare and glorious treat. Extra legroom? Yep, I’ll take it. Free drinks? Yes, I’ll have a bloody, why thank you. Fluffy pillow and nice blanket? Why certainly. A warm vegetarian meal brought to me on a tray with teeny tiny salt and pepper shakers? Uh huh, thanks. A professional driver waiting for me at baggage claim, and doesn’t hit on me or have incredibly private phone convos (ON SPEAKER) while I languish in the back seat? YES. (I’m looking at YOU, Uber.)
Heavenly.
And I loved working on THE PURGE. As soon as I walked into hair and makeup, it was clear the entire team was happy to be there, friendly, welcoming, and hella charming. Loved that vibe.
With the exception of the (very fun) costume fitting and the shoot itself, I had loads of downtime to wander the French Quarter, fill my ears with music, and meet so many different characters while I roamed. Stuffed myself with beignets and chicory coffee, prailines, and po boys. Dreamy.
Much gratitude to my team, and to Zane/Pillsbury Casting for having me in to audition. Love love love.
A dude on Bourbon Street sketched me. UNCANNY, NO? Fun facts: I was not wearing this, nor did I have a bottle or glass in my hands, nor do my bosoms begin at my clavicles.
I downed this like it was my job and had to pee so bad but it’s actually challenging to find a place to pee in the French Quarter. Pro tip: public restrooms in the French Market.