I don't even know where to start. What a week. I added up the hours, and I worked 82 hours in 7 days. And that doesn't include the 6 hours at the theatre awards on Monday night, or the hours in the bar every night when we finally finished up and needed a beer and a de-brief of the day's events.

Thursday was the really big shit show, with everything in the world happening all at once. We had to have all this stuff (all 3 music stages, the 100' cake, the main stage with the political party, 4 street performer locations - including one with a high-wire set up, the TV folks and their 5 camera locations, all the vendors with their needs for power and water, etc., etc.) ready to go at 3pm sharp. Plus the parade of what turned out to be about 7500 people showing up on-site at 2:30. There was a point at about 1pm where I just didn't think we were going to pull it off. There was so much left to do. And the press started arriving, and everyone needed something from me NOW. And I had this tiny little crew of 6 people. Thank god they were the best six people ever and we managed to get it all together just in time.

At 2:30 the parade arrived. I had just finished getting everything in place for the opening ceremonies and was awaiting the politicians. I had to run over to where the parade was entering the plaza and grab their 2 "dignitaries" and haul them through the crowd to the backstage and then run and grab the MC, who was a TV personality. And then the swarm of police officers and federal and provincial security guys decended on mass. And a million photographers trying to hide around the stage to get good shots, who kept getting chased off by the cops and coming back and finding new places to hide. I looked up at one point and realized they had snipers stationed on the top of the municiple building and the library. Snipers. Geez.

Suddenly, here came the Mayor, the Premier and the Prime Minister. And all their people. And a bunch more security guys. Shari was radioing us all from the cake, in a big panic because she was all alone their trying to hold off the roped off area that was set aside for photographers right in front of where the politicians were going to cut the cake, plus hold back about 6000 people all clammering for CAKE NOW. Meanwhile, we had about 15,000 people in the plaza. I got all the dignitaries loaded onto the stage and got the proceedings under way. The amazing part was watching the security guys dealing with the politicians crossing right through the plaza, through the sea of 15,000 people, to the cake. The head security guy from Ottawa told me afterwards that that was their worst nightmare, but all went smoothly.

I couldn't even get within 50 feet of the cake (or the "cakele area" as we started calling it). Shari said the media scrum was crazy. Guys crawling under the tables trying to get a better photo. One guy actually tried to sit on the cake. And just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone, sweeping through the crowd, into the performing arts centre, through the building and out the other side where their motorcade was waiting. Man those security guys move fast. You want to get out of their way or you'll just be swept aside. The funniest moment was as they were all entering the building and one of the RCMP guys accidently popped a balloon, which sounded much like a gum shot, and I thought for a moment that they were all going to have heart attacks.

Insane.

And then there was the whole rest of the day to get through. I never even made it down the 2 blocks of the mall to the far stage. I was just running like crazy all day.

At about 9pm, we had the next frenzie, with getting ready to go live on TV with the Premier for the launch of the fireworks which were set to go off, along with fireworks in 10 other locations in the province, at 9:55. Everything was closely timed. I had to get about 50 volunteers and performerson stage as a backdrop to the Premier in about 2 minutes. Ever try to move 50 people in 2 minutes? Not easy. But again, all went according to plan. There were about 25,000 people by this point, and the fireworks were pretty cool, all choreographed to music being played by the Civic Orchestra, who were playing at another venue and being broadcast on the jumbotron. 8000 low-level firework bursts in 15 minutes.

Finally, it was all done and time to pack up for the night. A bunch of the stuff went away, as we paired down to the street performers festival for the next 2 days. By 11:30, we were able to head to the bar for a much needed couple of beers. It was so nice, when I walked into the bar, the last person there as I had to be the last person to leave the site, everyone stood up and applauded me. Your basic 16 hour day.

Nothing like pulling off a massive event with 40,000 people in one day to rebuild the old confidence and self esteem that had been seriously damaged by the firing in June. And I got so many compliments from the TV people and the head mucky-muck city guys I was working with, and a lovely phone call later in the day from the Prime Minister's office, complimenting me on what a great job we had done, and saying the Prime Minister was very impressed by the event and how smoothly it had all gone.

Friday and Saturday seemed like a walk in the park by comparison. Just simple 12 hour days with no politicians and no crazy huge crowds. Just families enjoying the street performers and the beautiful weather.

Other high-lights of the weekend were watching my nephew be totally absorbed in acts like the USA Breakdancers and Flying Bob (the high-wire act) and Dan The One Man Band. He had such a great time. And then there was driving across the street and right into the theatre bar with a golf cart to grab a quick beer at about 6pm on Saturday. Hilarious. People on the side walk infront of the hotel we drove by couldn't figure out what the hell we were doing. And on Saturday, I finally got a chance to watch some of the performers. They were great. Acts from Toronto and New York and Australia. And my crew and I made up words like "craptacular" and "shitastic" and tried to use them as much as possible over the walkies.

By Sunday, when we had to come in to strike, we were all totally punch-drunk with exhaustion and all had supremely aching feet and lower backs, but we were so proud of ourselves for pulling it all off.

The only casualties seemed to be one wrecked tent, which flew up into the air in a wind gust as we were closing down on Saturday night and landed in a restaurant canopy, slicing a nice hole in it, a missing outdoor sink, which I still can't find (who steals a sink? they weigh a freaking ton!) and my voice, which I lost completely for 2 days. My husband seemed to enjoy that a little too much.

So that was my week. What did everyone else do? I guess I'll have to go read some diaries now.