That time I was a model.

Remember those last few days? Say Thursday through Sunday? Those ones?

They were ridiculous.

I am currently writing this as I lay in bed, wallowing in the first time I've had since last Wednesday to do anything remotely relaxing. Sleep has been haggard at best and eating has been purely optional.

But (and there is most definitely a "but") those days were fun. 

You'll have to excuse the shoddy phone pictures are about to overwhelm this post. It was all I had.

I wish I could tell you guys that I played it cool, that I acted I went to professional modeling shoots all the time, and that I was a pro at having super long rainbow eyelashes glued to the middle of my eyelids and having my face and neck completely covered in goopy zombie clay. I really wish I could.

But lets be real. I don't go to professional modeling shoots every day. So, despite my best efforts to convince the photographers and crew that I was just as professional as them, I think all the darting around and trying to inconspicuously take pictures of the snack table may have given me away. Maybe.

The craziest part, at least for me, was the fact that although I was clearly a noob, everyone else there was totally legit. Like, the-lighting-guy-was-named-Kristoff-and-was-from-France legit. And the make-up artist had done make-up for actual world famous super models. And the make-up artists assistant was a professional model herself, and intimidatingly pretty. Suffice to say, I felt a teen, tiny bit out of my depth. 

Fortunately, the awesomeness of the whole experience significantly outweighed the slight intimidation I felt. There were catered lunches and a kajabillion costumes and hours spent in a make-up chair feeling pretty. There were intense wigs and flashing lights. There were moments when I was standing in full make-up and heels, towering over the gaggle of women who were simultaneously fixing my make-up, primping my hair, and adjusting my costume, and I got the smallest taste of what it might be like to do this for real. 

And you can bet your ass that when October rolls around, I will be stalking my local Value Village, taking cheesy touristy pictures of myself standing next to posters of myself. Because how often do you get to do that in your life?

Not often.

Sometimes I just can't believe my luck.