I probably should have checked my bag for my flight to Disney World. Why do I think this? Because at 3 a.m. the night before I left, I was seriously contemplating the question, “Do I really need to floss on vacation?” because dental floss would add weight to the bag. I took the floss, though. I also checked my bag on the return trip.
Disney World is that odd combination of vacation wonderland and nightmare. If you are childless, it can be quite an event navigating hotels, theme parks and restaurants what with all the whining, screaming and pouting. And I’m talking about the adults, not the children. What is it about Disney World that makes parents think every moment must be filled with joy and excitement? The phrase, “We are going to have fun!” should not be an ultimatum.
People who dress up in animal costumes scare me. This is a new phobia. I had my picture taken with a giant furry bear and I’m having nightmares.
You have not truly lived until you have ridden a bus with a singing Latina bus driver named Rosalita. Her version of Bingo goes: “There was a mouse who had a dog and Pluto was his name-O.” Fun stuff, even sober.
I have determined that the Magic Kingdom is a dry park because otherwise parents would leave their children on The Ride to Hell (otherwise known as It’s a Small World) while they did tequila shots with Mickey. It’s a Small World is the longest, most boring, tedious amusement park ride in the world and I love it dearly. I hope they never get rid of it. I’m still mourning the loss of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.
Motion sickness is a very evil thing. When I get my pictures developed, I’ll post a picture to prove it. (Kidding, Rose. Just kidding. Maybe.)
It’s nice to know I’m not the only insomniac in the world. I met some interesting people sitting by the pool at 2:30 in the morning.
Drinks at Pleasure Island are very expensive and very potent. Go Disney.
Rose is the very best person to stand in line with while singing along and dancing to 80s tunes sung by a guy in a purple wig and punk glasses. Even if she was sober and I wasn’t. Maybe especially because she was sober and I wasn’t. That’s love, right there.
And now for all the rest:
Best meal: Eggplant Parmesan at Mama Melrose’s, MGM
Best dessert: Chocolate cake at Planet Hollywood
Best drink: Rum runners at the Adventure Club
Best other dessert: Soft serve ice cream in Animal Kingdom
Best other drink: Cool Runnings rum runners at Planet Hollywood
Best Animal Experience: The bat cave in Animal Kingdom
Best Traveling Experience: Express check-in at the airport
Best Waitperson: J.T. at Planet Hollywood
Best Thrill Ride: Twilight Zone Tower of Terror
Best Actress in a Dramatic Role: Rose for convincing me she was feeling fine before we got on Tower of Terror
Recent Google searches that have led people to my web page:
“Kelly’s home nudity page”
“accidental nudity”
“erotic adult nightclubs”
“lovemaking transcript 2004”
“wrong g-string stories”
“Janet’s enhanced breast”
“see Janet’s naked breast”
“janet’s pierced breast”
“janet’s nipple exposure”
and my personal favorite:
“G-string housecleaning”
I had no idea I was writing such smut. I apologize. Janet apologizes. And Kelly, whomever she is, probably apologizes. Can we please move on now and talk about bare naked chicken breasts? I’m hungry.
Also, if you clean house while wearing a g-string, please be careful. I think that’s just an accident waiting to happen.
I know I promised happy stories of Disney goodness and they will be forthcoming, but I’m not feeling it right now. Bear with me.
What I am feeling is… not all here. I woke up this morning incredibly disappointed to find myself at home in my own bed and wanting to be some place-- any place-- else but here. Which is odd since a) I love my bed and b) I love my house and c) I love the little furry faces who woke me up to tell me they missed me and love me and, oh yeah, their food bowls were empty. All I know is that if someone had handed me a plane ticket this morning I wouldn’t have bothered to check the destination before jumping in my car and heading for the airport.
Since I can’t physically remove myself from my current location, I guess I’m taking a little mental vacation because I couldn’t care less about anything that’s going on around me at the moment. Work? Please. Friends? Don’t call me, I’ll call you. Writing? Um… does e-mail count? E-mail? I’ll get to it when I get to it. Food shopping? I have bread and peanut butter, I’ll survive for another week.
I’m sure this is just a little bout of post-vacation blues because I have absolutely nothing on the horizon to look forward to and I’m feeling unbearably lonely and sorry for myself. So I can either a) plan another vacation or b) suck it up and get over it or c) throw a little pity party for one. I’m currently leaning toward C.
Oh, and did I mention my weekend is going to suck? It’s a cruel, cruel thing to have Valentine’s Day fall on a Saturday when a) I’m going to be alone and b) I have to work all day and c) I’m feeling like a reject from the Island of Misfit Toys. Valentine’s Day? Gag. Saint Valentine got what he deserved. Love stinks.
I’m sorry for my lack of good cheer. You can either a) ignore this post and wait for the good stuff or b) take everything I’m writing with a grain of salt because I’m in a lousy mood or c) bite me.
Hugs and kisses.
I’m baaaaaack… Miss me?
Observations, anecdotes and the Top Ten Best Pickup Lines for Disney-goers coming soon.
Keep watching this space.
I’m off to the Happiest Place on Earth for a few days. I’ll be back with my usual sarcasm and wit on Tuesday, wearing Mickey ears and singing “It’s a Small World After All.” Try not to miss me too much.
Now talk amongst yourselves and be good while I’m gone.
What’s it all about?
Life. Love. Writing. Editing. Sex. Books. Romance. Movies. Friendship. Photography. Teaching. Coffee. (Lots of coffee.) Travel. Feminism. Academia. Insomnia. Memories. Experiences. Rants. Raves. Reviews. Chocolate. Mmm… chocolate. Musings of an insomniac writer. Want to know more?
