Two Posts: A Flashback to a Week Earlier, and Thursday

Post #1: In Which Cinderannie Meets a Handsome Stranger, and Goes to a Parade

So I realized that I left out something fun that happened on Wednesday the 12th of September. This was the cast preview of the Mickey’s Boo to You Halloween parade. I was very excited about it, having never seen any Disney Halloween parade before. Marijka wanted to go too, and we decided to dress up. She put on her blue ballet costume, and ballet tights and shoes, and Dani, who works at the Bibbidy Bobiddy Boutique, did her hair in a lovely bun and put glitter in it. I was supposed to be a gypsy, but my attempt at layering skirts and scarves didn’t go as well as I was hoping, so I ended up just in all black (skirt and t-shirt) with an orange scarf tied around my hair.
While the two of us sat waiting at the bus stop, I caught sight of a nice-looking young man standing a short distance away. He looked pleasant and friendly, and since I was in an outgoing mood, I looked up at him and smiled and nodded in a greeting sort of way. He smiled back. I looked away, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he kept looking at me! Well! I was flattered.
About a minute later, having noticed a girl dressed up in a gorgeous, mermaid-like green dress, I went over to compliment her on it. This brought me closer to the young man I had smiled at, and after I had greeted the girl, he walked up and said to me,
“Excuse me, you are going to thee Halloween parrade?” in an beautiful accent I wasn’t sure of the identity of – it was like Spanish only more European.
“Yup!” I said with a smile. “The bus should be here soon. I’m Joanna, by the way.”
“I am Alejandro,” he says.
“Nice to meet you. Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Italy.” English steals that word of all its beauty. He said it, “Eetahlee” – which doesn’t look nice spelled, but try saying it out loud. Go on, do it.
Now I am not the boy-crazy ooh-and-ah type, but honestly… it took a little bit of willpower to not just melt in a puddle on the floor then and there. But I kept it together, kept what Michelle calls “the boy smile” off my face, and attempted to not look as though I was thinking “ooh, Italian!” because he probably gets that a million times a day. I just said,
“Oh, that’s cool,” and then the other girl said something to me and I was talking to her. He never said anything more to me, and I must confess I worry that I was unsuccessful in hiding my reaction and that he disappointedly assessed me as just another swooning girl. Rats.
The bus came shortly after that. Marijka and I sat toward the middle, and Alejandro sat toward the front. I didn’t see him after we got off the bus, and I haven’t seen him since, so who knows what happened to him.
On the bus Marijka was fretting about being the only one dressed up. I told her,
“It doesn’t matter if you’re the only one if you look good. It’s only weird to be the only one dressed up if you look goofy. And you look gorgeous. Just smile and look confident. You look amazing, so you can pull it off.” I think I convinced her at least partially.
When we got to the Magic Kingdom bus stop, from which other buses take us to the main tunnel entrance, I was surprised to see an enormous crowd. Normally you can just hop on the next bus to the main entrance, but we had to wait for three buses before we could get on!
When the bus dropped us off at the entrance to the main tunnel, I thought we would just follow where everyone else was going, but they seemed to all split in different directions, so I just thought, “Oh, whatever, I’ll just pick a staircase up and we’ll go from there.” Marijka was excited to get to see the tunnels. We came up around fantasyland, and were a little worried that we would miss the beginning of the parade, since it was a few minutes past when it was supposed to start. But I was hoping that since there was such a jam at the buses, they’d delay it until everyone got there. We hurried through Fantasyland – it was so weird to see it deserted! – until we got to Main Street, and were happy to discover that not only had the parade not started yet, there was a nice spot for us to sit on the curb and watch.
It was a grand parade – lots of characters, magical music, a band of skeletons, and candy at the end! One thing stood out to me that night, though, besides the magic of it – all the characters dance. Characters who are just on a float in the regular parade, dance in this one. I may as well confess to you all now that I do treasure dreams of someday being a character. And now I knew that if it was going to happen, I have to learn to dance. I would have thought this was an impossible dream, because I always thought of myself as being no good at dancing, but there were movements that I couldn’t do at all in the beginning of my Voice and Movement class at Cornerstone that I can do very easily now – so I can improve, with teaching and practice. How far I can improve is another question, but I’ll never know if I never try.
After the last of the parade went by, Marijka and I thought we would go back out the way we came and beat the crowds – but the security people said everyone had to go out the main gate. Since there was no beating the crowds anyway, I did what I had always wanted to do – I followed the parade, all the way down Main Street, laughing and dancing to the music all the way. For a while Marijka stayed on the sidewalk, but then she came and joined me. As we were coming to the exit, we found Abby! We hadn’t even know she was there. So we got to ride the bus to the Magic Kingdom bus stop with her. From there, the bus back to the apartments only comes once every 20 minutes, and there were a good many more than one bus’ worth of people there. Oh dear. The first bus we just let go – it was hopeless to try to get on it. We were going to try for the second bus, but it was no good. It was getting very late, and Marijka had to get up early for work in the morning, so Abby and I encouraged her to make a dash for it and get on the next one, and fortunately she made it. Abby and I took the next one after that. And, as seems to happen to me rather frequently, I ended up sitting next to a guy who talked my ear off the entire bus ride home. Although his conversation was more interesting than some.
Given how late we went to bed, I was glad that I had the next day off – which was the day that we all went to downtown Orlando. So now you know one of the reasons for me being inspired to take the ballet class.

Post #2: In Which Cinderannie Buys Presents for her Sister, Cinderella, and Attempts to do Ballet

On Thursday the 20th I went shopping for Lydia’s birthday for most of the day. First I went to Cast Connections, the place where cast members can buy overstocked and discontinued merchandise for a large discount. It was cool, but I was disappointed by the lack of Princess things (Cinderella is Lydia’s favorite). So I left there and took the bus to Downtown Disney. Now this was fun. I may hate shoe shopping, but shopping in a place as cool as Downtown Disney, when you are free to spend guiltless money for someone who you know will like what you get, is grand. I had so much fun picking them out.
Toward the end of shopping I was getting hungry, and I had seen a stand with “churros” – long cinnamon sticks that you can dip in hot fudge or caramel. They looked amazing, so I bought one, with chocolate sauce. Wow. It was really, really, good. I highly recommend them. As I was finishing it and walking back toward the bus, I saw one of the stands that’s everywhere advertising the Disney Vacation Club. They’re promoting it a lot, and I was curious about what it was, so I went to take a look. They man working there came up and asked if he could help me – in a nice, meaning it way, not a “what are you doing here” kind of way – so I said I was just trying to figure out what it was and how it worked. He told me all about it. Basically, you pay a lot of money (I mean a LOT of money), which purchases a share in Disney real estate, and then for 50 years you can stay for about a week once a year free at any Disney resort, anywhere in the world. So if you were a young family, and you were going to go to Disney a lot in the future, and you had that much money (ha), it would eventually pay for itself, and be really cool, plus you could use it with your children and grandchildren. Coming up with the cash in the first place (it’s like $16,000) would be interesting, though…
When I got back, I had just time to grab some supper and dash around getting ready to go to ballet. Abby and Marijka both had other things they were doing that night, so it was just me. I left with just enough time to make it there, which was foolish – I got lost again. So once again, there I was, arriving at the building 20 minutes after the class started, feeling stupid. But if I’m ever going to get a character role, I have to learn to dance, and I wasn’t going to put off starting another week. So I took a deep breath, got out of the car, and walked into the building and upstairs to the desk. There I told the lady I was here for the adult class, explained that I had gotten lost, and asked if it was still all right if I went in.
“Sure, they’re still on barre [the first part of the ballet class],” she said. So I paid my money and went in. As I was coming in the door, the teacher saw me and gave me a bright encouraging smile, so I felt better about going in.
The barre exercises were pretty much what I was used to from my other class, although she did different combinations so I had to really concentrate to follow along. Then we did the crossing-the-floor combinations… oh dear. They were the difficulty we did at the end of my Voice and Movement class at Cornerstone; about two steps beyond where I was at the height of my ballet class. If I had just come out of that class, I could have picked them up all right, but being three months out of practice it was a bit of a disaster. At one point I had the impulse, “You can’t do this at all, just leave and go home,” but my thoughts instantly replied, “No way! I am not giving this up after the first time! How am I going to get better if I don’t do it?” So I stayed. It is frustrating, because this was the combined beginner/advanced class, and the beginner class would be better for me but it’s on Monday nights and I work Monday nights. But hey, if it’s over my head, that’s good, because it means I have opportunity to get better. The only thing is, at my class in GR I was comfortable enough with the teacher to ask her after class to show me certain things I didn’t get at all, and she would always show me until I got it, and seemed very happy to do it. But I am too shy to ask this teacher, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick them up without slower instruction. So maybe tonight, when I have ballet again, I will get up my courage and ask her to show me one step I don’t get. And if I ask her for a step or two every night, eventually I’ll get somewhere.

Four Posts! Thursday night, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday+Wednesday

My mother told me that I could post more than one post at a time, and my fans (wow, I have fans!) would still read it. So I'm trying out this theory... and posting four posts at once. It's insanely long. So, if you're not my mother, and you want to skim to whatever parts you find most interesting, go ahead. And if anyone's lurking (for those who don't speak netspeak, read: "reading and not commenting/posting"), go ahead and leave a line. I don't care if you don't have anything clever to say, I'd just love to hear from you.

Post #1: A Night on the Town - Joanna, Abby, and Marijka Style

Thursday was a day off. Looking at my receipts, I see that I went to Walmart and bought a few things I needed. I also called my sister Rebecca in the afternoon because she had had surgery that day and I wanted to see how she was.
I had discovered that there is an adult ballet class at the Orlando Ballet school. I had really enjoyed the adult ballet class at home – it was improving my flexibility and posture, and giving me exercise, and making me feel like a dancer. Abby and Marijka wanted to come and try it to, so we all went together.
The sky as we drove was amazing! The sun was setting, and the sky was filled with towering clouds. One half of the sky was golden, and the other half was bright blue. We couldn’t stop admiring it, and Abby took pictures with great delight. I’ll have to get them from her and post them.
Unfortunately, we left a little late, and then got lost. The result was that we didn’t get to the building until twenty minutes after the class had started. So, sitting in the car in the parking lot, we had a discussion, and decided to call this our finding-out-where-it-was expedition, and go next week. We had seen a library as we drove, and wanted to get library cards, and we could also explore downtown Orlando a little, so it wouldn’t be a complete waste of gas, and at least now we knew where the building was.
We went ahead and went inside to find out more information about the class, and even got to peek in so that we could see what people wore. It was like the one I went to in GR (I love how my city can just be two letters, it’s almost like an affectionate nickname the way those who live there use it) – a mix. Some in tights and leotards, some in tank tops and loose-fitting capris or shorts, but everyone in ballet slippers. And guess what! Orlando Ballet does the Nutcracker! I can have one of my Christmas traditions! (Granted, it’s an intermittent tradition because of the cost, but I think it’s worth splurging on this year.)
After we had looked around the building and found out what we needed to know, we went back to the library. It took us some circles to figure out where to park. We finally ended up parking in this lot that was inside a gate. We thought sure it would be not allowed, but there no signs anywhere that said “reserved,” or “permit parking only,” or any of those depressing phrases that mean you can’t park in a good spot. So we parked there, and went into the library. Books! Books! But when we went to the desk to get a library card, the lady said we couldn’t get a card unless we had proof of Florida residence, which meant some sort of official paper that had our Florida address on it, like a paycheck stub or whatever. Today had been the first payday, and none of us had gotten our paycheck yet. So we were out of luck. This was depressing, but we had excitement – we had seen a lit fountain out in a lake while we were looking for parking, and we wanted to go over there and explore.
When we walked back to the place we parked, we discovered that the gate was closed! Oh no! My car was trapped inside! Now what? Being small enough to fit through the bars, I decided to slip in and investigate. Maybe there was another exit. The other two (they are both thin as well; Abby is tallish and Marijka is a little shorter than me) followed, and we looked around but there was no other exit. A lady came in a different way and went to her car – there must be a way out then! I went up to her and was going to ask how to get out of here, but she was on her cell phone and I didn’t want to interrupt, so we decided to just follow her. We were walking over to my car when she pulled out of her space. She drove up to the gate and it opened!
“Hurry! Hurry!” we cried, flinging ourselves into the car. What if you had to have a special card or something! We’d have to follow close behind her!
The gate closed before we reached it – but when we pulled up to it, it opened automatically. All our worry and fret for nothing! Laughing, we left the parking lot and drove out, heading for the fountain.
It took a little bit for us to find it again, because I had forgotten when exactly we saw it, but then I remembered and we drove around looking for a place to park again. We found a spot – parallel parking, ugh! It was a park, with paths through trees, along the edge of the lake. It was lovely, and we walked along it, looking at the fountain and at the ducks and swans that swam in the water. I was amused by a sign that forbid being in a horizontal position anywhere in the park…
After a bit of walking, we came to a playground.
“Look, a playground!” I said. There was a moment of hesitation, and then all three of us were running full speed toward it. The first section of it was disappointing – only a small play structure, and baby swings! But then we saw this amazing space-age looking climbing thing across the way, and ran over to it. There was a swing there, too, and promptly started swinging while Abby and Marijka climbed on the structure. It was the best superhero training thing ever – all different climbing-on things, and then there was this circular tilted spinning thing you walk on and it moves under you, until it gets going to fast and you panic and jump off – at least that’s how I used it… And other spinning things, where you can jump on crouched down so it starts spinning and then pull your way up the pole to a standing position, which makes it spin faster and faster until you think you’ll surely be flung off. One of my favorite things about having done dance is that I don’t get dizzy and sick from spinning nearly as easily as I used to. I wouldn’t have been able to do those at all before, but I did them three or four times and I didn’t get sick at all.
Finally, it was getting late, and we decided we should probably head home since Abby had to work early the next day. When we came crashing in, still talking, our roommates looked up in some surprise. So we gave them our account of our downtown adventures. I like being crazy. Who would have thought I’d find two people I could play on a playground with?

Post #2: Shoe Shopping, and my First Working Day

The next Sunday, the 16th, I had thought about going to church in the morning, since I was working in the evening and wouldn’t be able to go to the evening service. But I had to do training until 10:45pm on Saturday night, and then it’s a half hour bus ride home… and I couldn’t find the motivation to get up early and go to a strange church. If it was Blythefield it wouldn’t have mattered – I’ve gone to Blythefield after working all night – but I didn’t feel up to going somewhere new. I needed white socks for work – the only ones I have have blue cuffs, which they said wouldn’t do :-) , and black shoes. The specifications for the shoes were: plain black polishable leather with no decoration, closed toe and heel, cover all of the top of your foot, and no Velcro allowed. Just the sort of shoe I avoid like the plague. So I spent all afternoon shopping for shoes. Ugh. I’m not a huge fan of shopping at the best of times, but shopping when you don’t even get to buy what you like is awful. I couldn’t find a single pair of shoes that met the specifications and I didn’t think was ugly or horribly uncomfortable – except for two pairs: one that was slip on style with elastic diagonal criss-cross straps, which I thought I could wear if I wore pants so that no one could see the unconventional top, and one pair of soft black leather Converse All Stars at the Converse outlet. (Thad, you would love that place. I’d like to take you there.) Needless to say, neither of these pairs of shoes came in even close to my size.
So after driving to two different Walmarts and going to a whole bunch of outlet stores (in the pouring rain… nothing like walking into a high-class prices-way-over-my-budget leather shoe store looking like a drowned rat!), it was getting close to when I needed to work and I was starting to think that I was going to have to go to work another day in my “Cinderella shoes,” which are black ballet flats. I love those shoes, but one cannot walk for six hours straight (my usual shift time) in them without being in a good deal of pain. So there I was, at the last Walmart, trying on shoes, when I caught sight of a pair of black leather lace-up boot-looking shoes - hey! I actually liked the look of them! They had silver rivets in the lace holes, and metal hooks for lacing toward the top, and they had a sort of British look, I thought. So I got a pair of eights and tried them on. Hmm, they felt okay, but they were a little big and the arch support was too far forward. I got a pair of seven-and-a-halfs and slid them on. Perfection. They were so comfortable, the leather was soft instead of stiff, even at the cuff (I can’t stand shoes cutting into the back of my heel), and they fit my feet perfectly! Hurray! I looked at the brand – Earth Shoes. Of course. Just the brand that all my favorite sandals and my snowboots are, coming to my rescue again with a pair of comfortable shoes.
I had just time to buy them, get home, get ready like a maniac, and catch the bus to work. I would be working in Tomorrowland, and it would be my first time working by myself.
When I got out there, I had to ask another custodial person where the supply room is – that’s where the sheet that says what we’re supposed to do when and when our breaks are is. I was in zone two, which is around Space Mountain, and I didn’t have to do a trash run.
It was so nice to finally be on my own, just hanging out in Tomorrowland and keeping it clean. It rained for a little while, and when it let up I dried off the tables and chairs – and was gratified to see that people started sitting in them right away. I am useful! Besides, it’s fun drying tables. We have this tool called a squeegee that’s like a mini windshield wiper that gets the water right off. I liked pretending that I was really working at a spaceport – after all, one of our “basics” is “I stay in character and play the part”!
My zone included the long walkway from Tomorrowland to Toontown, and while I was down there I decided to dry the benches so people could sit there. It was starting to get a little dark by this point. I dried off a bench and was wringing out my cloth when I felt something sharp prick my finger painfully. I dropped the cloth instantly – had there been a thorn caught in it? But no, it hurt worse and worse! Ouch! It had to be a wasp sting. I kicked the cloth and there was the wasp. I quickly stomped on it. My hand still hurt a lot, and I was thinking I needed to go to First Aid. So I’m walking down the path, and half my hand is swollen, but as the pain lessened a little I realized that I’m not allergic and I don’t need first aid for just a wasp sting, this is silly. But it hurt so much it made me think instinctively that I needed to do something about it – it was my first time getting stung with no “grownup” around to go tell that I got stung. It stopped hurting after a while, of course, and the swelling disappeared.
One other thing of interest happened. Everyone gets a set of Pixie Dust pins when they first start work. These are to give to a guest who you see being magical – someone who’s especially enjoying the park, like skipping down Main Street or twirling around, or who does something nice to make magic for someone else. They come in a set of two, so that the guest can give the other away to someone else they see being magical. I had mine with me in the blue bag that we attach to our belts to carry things in. As the fireworks were going (they haven’t gotten old at all yet… I still gasp whenever Tinkerbelle flies), I caught sight of a mom and daughter sitting on a bench watching, singing along to all the songs and swaying back and forth in rhythm. A Pixie Dust pin moment if I ever saw one. So I went up to them, and said to the daughter,
“For some of the most enthusiastic fireworks watching I have ever seen, I would like to award you this Pixie Dust Pin.” Before I could continue explaining about it, the mom said with a gasp of delight,
“Do you know what these are? You keep one, and then give the other away to someone else who you see being magical!” So much for my speech, but they were happy so I didn’t care. They thanked me, and I thanked them for helping make the magic, and I went away smiling.
I also used my other magic that night – my No Strings Attached form, which is a way to give something to a guest who has had some sort of a problem – things like replacing a dropped ice cream cone or giving someone priority entrance to a ride. There was a man who was there for the Extra Magic Hours (when resort guests get to stay three hours past normal park closing time), but he had gotten a flyer saying that the EMHs went until midnight, when they actually ended at eleven. The result being that he was coming up to Space Mountain at 11:05, having never gotten to ride it yet, and was very disappointed. So since he was going to be back the next day or the day after, I gave him my form so that he could get right on Space Mountain without waiting in line when he came back.
I finished work at 12:15 – in Tomorrowland, we meet at the Lunching Pad restaurant a half hour after the park closes (11:30, that night), and then all go over to Main Street to help pan and broom, since it doesn’t empty out for at least an hour after the park closes, because everyone shops in the stores. It’s a good strategy, leaving the stores open so that people can buy things at the end of the day. I was pretty tired by the time it was time to go, but I do love Main Street at night. It’s all lit up and looking like the idealized small town that it is… and the bakery smells amazing.

Post #3: In Which Cinderannie is Late for the Parade

Since I had worked until past midnight, I slept in on Monday morning. That afternoon I worked in Toontown, which was fun. I wasn’t supposed to have trash runs until after I did my assessment, which would be Tuesday, but they had me scheduled for one anyway. The Toontown trash run is easy – Toontown is small, so it’s not broken into zones, which means that you just do all the pink and yellow Toontown trashcans and you’re done – no figuring out which is which.
I was supposed to go over to Main Street at eight o’clock. At five until eight I had just finished my trash run and was going to Main Street, when a lady with three kids and a Make-a-Wish button came up to me asking whether this was the Toontown Train station, which it was. She seemed a little distressed. I didn’t know if the button was just because she supports Make-a-Wish, or if she was really there with Make-a-Wish, but either way I wanted her to have the best time possible, so I asked what the trouble was. Her husband and daughter were separated from them, and she thought they were supposed to meet at the train station but she wasn’t sure, and he had the cell phone, and she only had a dollar and it cost two dollars to call on the pay phone. Well! I could do something about that. So I dug in my bag for a dollar I knew I had with me, and gave it to her, telling her it was the Guest Emergency Fund. I’m not sure if it’s against the rules to give the guests money or not, but I don’t remember anyone saying so, and it is in the rules that our goal is to make sure every guest has the most fabulous time of his or her life, so I’m glad I did.
The result of this was that I was quite late getting to Main Street. And I thought I was just supposed to pan and broom there during and after the Spectromagic parade, but then I ran into Courtneyd (it’s pronounced Courtney, her grandfather David died on her due date and the D is to honor him, you may think that’s weird but I think it’s kind of cool), one of the trainers and the most cheerful of all the custodial cast members, and she explained that I was “Parade” so I was supposed to be there at a bit before eight, with a pushbroom, and go along with one of the Powervacs pushing trash from the sidewalks into the street in front of it. Dear me. I apologized for not doing it right, and they all said that was okay, and then after our supper break we went to the Adventureland bridge to clear up after the second half of the parade and this time I did what I was supposed to. I’m not fond of the end of parade clean up where we’re down by the front entrance, because at that point the vacuums can reach everywhere so the pushbroomer is kind of useless. We can’t even go around spot sweeping with the broom, because we don’t have a pan, and trying to walk around with the vacuum and sweep things into it makes me dizzy because I have to keep spinning around to see where the vacuum is, not to mention the way that the vacuum goes in circles to get everywhere. So yeah… I definitely missed my pan and broom, which enables me to just sweep something up when I see it. By this time it was nearly time for us to leave, anyway, though, and when another useless pushbroom girl and I found a grandmother and granddaughter just sitting on a bench, we welcomed the chance to “take five” and talk to them. So we had a nice conversation until it was time for us to go, and it made a pleasant end to the night. I think I’ve said before that guest interaction makes me so happy…

Post #4: In Which Cinderannie Completes her Training, and a McDonald's is Ridiculous

On Tuesday the 18th I had my custodial assessment. All this meant was that I went with a trainer and he asked me questions about how to do everything and I answered them, as well as taking a written test. I was a little nervous about this, not because I was worried about knowing the material, but because my assessor was a guy who had kind of given me the creeps when I’d met him earlier. He was just, I don’t know, too friendly. I think the girls reading this will know what I mean. But I think that when I glared at him when he put his arm around me once, and spun out of it, he got the message, because he was fine during assessment, and I’ve seen him around since, and now he’s friendly but not creepy. He gave me Skittles yesterday, actually, because he’d gotten them in a gift bag and he says he doesn’t need all that sugar. He wasn’t creepy about giving them to me, so I accepted them and thanked him.
There was a lot of waiting around for things to happen during assessment… the assessor kept disappearing for ten minutes at a time. Since I had my notebook with me, I didn’t mind this. I just wrote. And it was nice to spend time seated in the air conditioning, since I’d spent the past two working shifts walking nonstop. That was the one thing about the good training days – it was very hot.
After my assessment was completed and I had passed it, they said that I should spend the rest of my shift (until 8:45pm) panning and brooming around my area, getting to know where the restrooms and smoking sections and everything were. They said I should go to Tomorrowland and Toontown, because that’s where it said on my schedule I would be working, but I’d already been there for two days and I knew it was likely that I would eventually be elsewhere, and I hadn’t been in Adventureland or Frontierland during any of my training and I didn’t know those areas very well. So I took the long way around to the East (that’s what we call Tomorrowland and Toontown), and went through Adventureland and Frontierland (“the West”) on the way. In Adventureland I met another custodial, and he gave me a tour, showing me where the AVAC room was. (The AVAC is a marvelous tool – you dump the trash in it, and it all gets sucked down pipes at 70 miles an hour and turned into dust.) Eventually I made my way to Tomorrowland, and then to Main Street when the park closed. This time I had my pan and broom, so it was much more pleasant. I got to have a nice conversation with a girl who worked at a popcorn cart while I swept up the popcorn that was spilled around it. It was nice talking to her because she loves working at Disney and loves her job. I have to keep an eye out for those people and talk to them, because if I get talking to the cynical ones too much it depresses me. But I notice that the higher-ups are mostly all enthusiastic… it’s the ones who believe in the Disney vision, not the cynics, who stay in the company and move up.
On Wednesday, I was tired from working late nights, and Abby and I spent all afternoon e-mailing and watching Top Chef. The most amusing thing about this is that neither of us are TV watchers at all, so we would periodically groan at how ridiculous we were being, watching reality television all afternoon. But we were so tired, and it was an interesting show, and made a nice break.
In the evening I went to First Baptist Church, first to their ‘Focus’ Wednesday night service, and then to their college group. Focus, at seven, is just a sermon. The pastor who teaches it is going through the book of James. I listened, and took a few notes. It was okay, but he was no Louie. And I think he misinterpreted what “be slow to speak” means.
There was an hour between Focus and the college group, since it wasn’t until nine, and I was very hungry for supper. And then I realized I’m a complete moron, because I hadn’t brought money to eat out. Fortunately I had a good deal of change in my car, including two dollar coins. So I had enough to get quite a good meal at McDonalds. However, when I paid with my change, I noticed that I had a Canadian dime, with a sailboat on it. I was just about to grab it back and trade it, thinking that I’d like to keep it with me, when she shoved it back toward me.
“That’s not a dime,” she said. I blinked in astonishment.
“Yes, it is. It’s a Canadian dime. We use them like normal change – I’m from Michigan so we get a lot of them.” But she shook her head, and called over another worker.
“Do we take these?” she asked her.
“No,” the other lady said. So she handed me back my dime, and I fished for another one. I couldn’t believe it! They just rejected my Canadian dime!
When I had my food – the service was not so good, they didn’t even give me a fork for my cinnamon melt and the melt was quite short on icing – I went and sat down to eat quickly so I could get back to the church. I also called my mother back, since she had left a message on my phone.
When I came into the college group (they call it “Breaking Bread,” like we call ours “Ecclesia”), there was a table that had a sheet for newcomers to sign. I was walking up to it, feeling a little uncertain, when a redheaded girl came up to me and said,
“Hi! Are you new?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. She introduced me to a couple people at the table and had me sign up. One of the people, Megan, was from Michigan.
“Michigan!” I exclaimed. “Then you will understand this! The lady at McDonald’s just rejected my Canadian dime!”
“They rejected it? No way! Floridians!” So we commiserated, and she said, “I’ll buy it off you! I don’t think I have any left!” As I was taking it out, I wasn’t sure I wanted to give it up, but when she took it she looked at it with a smile and said, “This makes my day!” and I was glad I gave it to her. I wished afterwards that I had just given it to her and not taken her two nickels but it happened rather fast.
The college group was rather like a combination of our college group and Nitelife, because it was college age, but it was at night and all lit up. I liked it; it felt familiar. And they were playing Skillet and Flyleaf music before it started, two of my favorite bands, so that was comforting. We sang a song I hadn’t heard before, but I really liked it. And the study they were doing was on Paul’s missionary journeys, so that was cool because I was just in Greece.
After the college group, several people were going out to a restaurant, so I went too, since it seemed like a good way to get to know people. One guy who I met, Michael, was also new, having been invited by some people who were doing “Free Hug Day” at University of Central Florida. He offered to give me a ride over to the restaurant, since he’d have to come back toward the church anyway to get on the freeway to go home. Trusting my instincts, I accepted. It was nice to not have to worry about getting there, although it turned out that the restaurant (called Alehouse - it’s kind of like Applebees except the music is louder) was just down the road. I didn’t have any money left on me, so I just got water. That was probably good though, since I wasn’t hungry at all. It was nice to sit and listen to everyone and become familiar with their faces – Nicole, who has a round friendly face and brown curly hair, and is outgoing and spunky; Tiffany, with black hair, who is calmer but still outgoing; and Megan from Michigan was there too. There were others at the other end of the table but I didn’t really meet them. The restaurant was “as cold as Taco Bell,” as my family says. I was in flipflops and shorts and a t-shirt so I was freezing. Because of this, and because I was not in a very talkative mood so I wasn’t getting to know people as much as I would like, I was ready to go before the others were really done. Fortunately, Michael was wanting to get home, too, so we said goodbye to the others and he drove me back to my car. It was around midnight when I got home, and I was glad that I had the next day off.

Two Posts in One - Covering Five Days!

I'm going to catch up yet! Get ready for a bit of a marathon read, because I'm going to cover five days at once, in two "posts" (but they'll both be part of this one). And there will probably be more later today.

Post #1: The Magic Kingdom

Okay, so I’ve mixed up my days but good. You know how I just wrote about Monday being so great and how I went to Epcot? Well, that actually happened three days earlier, on Saturday. The amusing thing was that I first wrote it as happening on Saturday and then second-guessed myself and changed it. But I was right the first time. I figured this out because I realized that what really happened on Monday, which was a grand trip to the Magic Kingdom, happened before Tuesday, because I was writing about Tuesday and remembered talking about it to someone on that day. I actually went to Walmart and bought bins and things on Thursday after the meetings, according to my reciepts. But anyway, now I’m going to tell you about the real Monday. It’s going to be long, so if you want to skim, I won’t be offended. I know my mom will read the whole thing, though :-)
I found out, while talking to my roommate Marijka, that she had never been to the Magic Kingdom. So since we both had Monday off, we thought we would go together. I went somewhere Monday morning – oh yeah, to get my ID! And I did look for my ID at Taco Bell and the Commons on Saturday (not Sunday) before going to Epcot, which I had thought I did at first, because I thought I did more than just banking that morning, and I was depressed before I went to Epcot, which I thought I had been, because I had had two failed errands, one being not finding my ID! It all makes sense now. So, anyway, I had found my ID, and I went to Vista Way for a little while to check my e-mail. As I was coming back to the apartment at around noon, I was feeling a little tired and not sure if I really felt like trolling around MK (I’m going to abbreviate it from now on, I’m tired of typing it out every time, and it’s going to come up a lot…) all afternoon. But when I came in and had put away my stuff, Marijka asked me with sweet uncertainty whether we were still going. I knew that once I was there I would be glad I was, and how could I say no? So I said,
“Yes, we are!” And we got ready, and took the bus to the Ticket and Transportation Center (TTC), which is where those who drive to MK park. We could have taken the bus right to MK, but I didn’t know exactly how to get from where the bus drops you off to the actual entrance, and anyway, it was her first time and I wanted her to have the full experience, complete with monorail.
When we got to the monorail, I went right to the transportation worker and asked,
“Could we sit in the front?” He confirmed that it was just us two (only four at a time can sit in the cockpit), and sent us on up to the front loading section, telling us to talk to the man there. Grinning at Marijka, I went up to him and asked again,
“Can we sit up front?” the cockpit was empty, and he said that yes, we could. For those of you who have not experienced this – if you ask, you can sit in the very front of the monorail, where the captain is. This means you get a full view out the front window, instead of just peering through the small windows on the sides. It’s like flying.
I watched eagerly out the front for the first sight of the castle. We went through the Contemporary resort, and then, finally, as we came around a curve, there it was!
“Look!” I cried to Marijka, pointing.
“Oh!” she exclaimed softly. Friends, the “Oh!” of a first-time sight of Cinderella Castle is absolutely priceless.
When we came into the park, it was just starting to rain. Fortunately neither of us is too traumatized by getting wet, so we weren’t discouraged by this. It was about 3:15 as we were coming in – and there came the parade, down Main Street! We were just in time to see it! We stood next to a building so as not to get completely soaked, and watched it come. I love that parade.
When it was done, and the rain let up, we walked down Main Street, discussing where we wanted to go. She knew instantly that she wanted to go to Fantasyland first, and since that’s my favorite place, it was okay with me. We were standing in front of the castle, deciding the best way to get to Fantasyland, when a man came up to us, holding two fastpasses in his hand and saying something about Splash Mountain. English wasn’t his first language, so I wasn’t sure what he wanted at first, and was trying to explain Fastpasses and direct him to Splash Mountain, but it turned out that he had to leave, had two fastpasses for right then, and wanted to give them to us! (For those of you who don’t know about fastpasses: they are a way to not have to wait so long on a ride. You get a fastpass, and it gives you an hour’s range of time later that day to come back. It gives a limited number out per hour of the day, switching to the next hour when it reaches the quota, so that the fastpass line is a good deal shorter.) Well, we had been going to go to Fantasyland first, but we weren’t going to pass up an almost waitless ride on Splash Mountain, so we headed for Frontierland.
We hardly had to wait in line at all! We just walked through the corridors until we got to where the fastpass and the standby lines meet, and the cast member came and let us through. We ended up sitting right in the front! As the log car came around the curve where you go past where the others splash down, a car came down the mountain into the water, creating a terrific splash – we got SOAKED! And we had just started to dry out! Marijka shrieked and I laughed and laughed. We got way wetter then than we did on the actual splash down. Oh, and Papa, I remembered to hold my hat in my lap… so that my favorite hat would not get eaten by Splash Mountain.
“So, where do you want to go now?” I asked Marijka as we came out of the ride.
“Fantasyland!” she said instantly. So we found our way over there – and went on every single ride. It’s a Small World, Peter Pan’s Flight, Dumbo, Cinderella’s Carousel, The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh… we even went on Snow White’s Scary Adventures, which I’d never been on before. It was rather creepy – I wouldn’t recommend it for small children. And also Mickey’s Philharmagic, which I hadn’t done before. It was odd – although I was enjoying everything, I wasn’t feeling much of a sense of magic. “Dear me, I’m getting old and cynical,” I thought. Having something tangible often helps the way I think of things, so I was thinking of buying some small item that I liked as a symbol of the fact that the magic would continue no matter how old I was. It was just then that we did Mickey’s Philharmagic. It was wonderful! It’s set up like it’s going to be an orchestra concert (it’s a 3-D movie really), with Goofy stage managing (no one in their right mind would let Goofy stage manage anything!). Then something goes wrong backstage, and Mickey, the conductor, has to dash off to fix it, giving strict instructions to Donald not to touch his sorcerer’s hat, which he leaves on the stand. Of course, Donald does, and the result is an adventure through several classic Disney songs. The Peter Pan song “You Can Fly” in 3-D is amazing – I felt like I was really flying with them! In the end it dissolves into chaos, until Mickey appears, the hat comes down on his head, and he conducts furiously to sort everything out in a beautiful finale. I loved the whole thing so much that I ended up buying a stuffed Mickey in a conductors outfit with the sorcerer’s hat. And I don’t know if it was just that it was something I hadn’t ever done before, or that I loved it so much, but that show brought back the feeling of magic for me.
It rained again later in the afternoon, but we just walked through it, laughing all the time.
“My friends would not believe I am doing this!” Marijka said, laughing. “Walking in the rain and getting all soaking wet! At home I am the girly-girl!” I laughed, saying that I never would have guessed. By the time we had done every ride in Fantasyland, it was eight o’clock and we were starving. We wanted to go to a sit-down restaurant, because we would get a discount there and also we were tired and a delicious leisurely meal sounded nice. Unfortunately, I had forgotten/ didn’t realize two things. Firstly, you need a reservation for a sit down restaurant in the Magic Kingdom because everything fills up so fast. Since there were only two of us, they might have been able to fit us in somewhere if it weren’t for the second problem – almost every restaurant in the MK closes at eight! So there we were, soaking wet, very hungry, trailing from restaurant to restaurant and no place to eat! Finally, we found Cosmic Ray’s, a place in Tomorrowland that stays open until the park closes. We split a meal of ribs and mashed potatoes, and it was delicious. When we finished eating, Marijka wanted to go and see Mickey’s house. When we got there, the lady working there said that if we wanted to we could go meet Mickey – there was no line! I couldn’t believe it! So we got to walk right in and see him! And for the first time, I bought an overpriced picture – because the only camera we had was on Marijka’s phone and it didn’t take very good pictures, and I wanted a picture of us with Mickey, soaking wet and grinning. When we came out of the picture buying place, the fireworks were just starting. We ran through Toontown and Fantasyland, oohing and ahing as they burst over our heads, until we got to Main Street where we could see them well.
We ended the night with the classic shopping through the Emporium on Main Street, and a monorail ride back – in the front again. It was a perfect, classic, Magic Kingdom day.


Post #2: Training

On Tuesday, I had to get up ridiculously early in the morning to take a class called “Once Upon a Time is Now.” Looking at my schedule, it seemed to me that this was the training class for everyone working in Magic Kingdom, and I was right.
We met in the Disney University building, and, just like the Traditions class, we started out in the cafeteria. Odd place for a class, but I suppose that it’s because it can hold lots of people and it’s right by the entrance to the building. We didn’t stay there long, however. Soon our instructor, Bob (I met him when I first found out my assignment, he’s a great guy, very friendly and enthusiastic) was telling us that we would be boarding our pumpkin carriages that would take us to the Magic Kingdom – but if we hadn’t had enough coffee yet this morning they would look like Disney buses. I couldn’t help grinning at this.
That morning was wonderful. We spent it all touring around the Magic Kingdom, and Bob and another instructor – James, I think? – told us about lots of things about it. For instance, did you know that Main Street slopes upward toward the castle? This slows you down at the beginning of the day, when you’re entering with lots of energy, so that you get a nice walk along Main Street building up the castle instead of just dashing in. Then, at the end of the day when you’re exhausted and leaving, you get to walk downhill to the exit.
While we were standing near the statue of Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse, James was telling us about how the park is always being updated – that it’s never considered a finished work, and that Walt Disney would walk around the park, asking people in Fantasyland whether they thought they were doing it right and telling the stories correctly. As an example, he explained how the Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride was taken out, because although many people made a fuss about it, very few actually knew anything about the story behind it, and only about 13% of the people who came to the park went on the ride.
“Can anyone tell me what fairytale Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride was based on?” he asked.
“The Wind in the Willows,” I said promptly. He turned to me in slight surprise.
“Okay. Now name five characters from it.”
“Rat, Mole, Toad, the weasels…” I searched my brain for another – I knew I knew more.
“Badger?” suggested Bob.
“Badger! Of course! I knew there was another!” I said.
“Well,” said James, sounding impressed, “Very few people on this tour can do that. I’d give you a critter if I had another one.” (During the training classes we get ‘critters,’ small figurines of Mickey and Friends characters, when we help with something or answer a question correctly.) However, later he did get one from somewhere, one of Mickey as the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, and gave it to me. It’s sitting on my nightstand right now, along with the Minnie one I got in Traditions.
I was in a rather chattery mood that morning, because I was happy, and as we walked I kept telling the instructor about things from my experiences at Disney that pertained to whatever we had been talking about. I think that I might have been driving them crazy… but at least I was enthusiastic.
Then came the afternoon. And the next day. Both of which only the fact that I was in the Magic Kingdom made endurable. They were both custodial specific, and involved trailing around the Magic Kingdom and the backstage areas being shown all the cramped janitors closets. The first afternoon was the worst, both because of the contrast between the magical morning, and because of the instructor. She talked down to everyone, especially those in our group who didn’t speak English very well. She kept teasingly saying that they weren’t listening well because they couldn’t answer her questions, but she had a thick New Jersey accent and it was no wonder they couldn’t understand her. The next day was a bit better because the instructor was actually competent and talked to us like adults – but they still both felt completely janitorial and very unmagical. And it was so dull, because we were just going over the same things again and again…
Thursday was a day off. I can’t remember what I did at all, other than calling my sister Rebecca because she’d had surgery that day. Oh yeah, I just remember what I did in the evening! But I’ll make that a new post, because I want to finish off about training so I don’t leave you on the depressing note.
On Friday and Saturday, things were much better. I got to have my real trainer, Erica. She’s not much older than me, and much more cheerful than the other two. And for those days we were doing actual practical training, where we polished the brass drinking fountains and washed the telephones and swept and dried off the counters in the bathroom and such. It’s slightly odd, but actually cleaning the restrooms and sweeping and things was much more gladdening than talking about doing it. For the day and a half with the two dull instructors, I felt as though I was going to hate being custodial. I looked at the other pretty costumes in the costume building – the dresses and things that those who work in some of the restaurants and stores wear – and I was so jealous. I knew it was silly – You’re working at Disney World, for crying out loud! my self yelled at me. You can go to the parks free any time! You actually get to walk around the park instead of being stuck in a building all day. Get over it! But I still felt depressed. So I was glad when I got the practical training and felt so much better. It also helps when the girl at a cart selling bouncing balls says to me, “I’m jealous of you guys. You at least get to walk around.” And I’m enjoying it more and more because I’m getting more used to the walking so I’m not so exhausted. Guest interaction is definitely the highlight – I always leave a conversation smiling. I love being able to talk to people about where they’re from – and kids love to tell me about their souvenirs and what they’ve done that day.

More to come...

An Afternoon at a Park

Monday turned out to be a grand day, although in the morning it didn’t look like it was going to. The first thing I did was drag myself down to the front desk, $50 in an envelope in my handbag, to go get a new housing ID. I told the man there that I needed a new one, showing him that it was the last day for my pathetic piece of purple paper. He nodded, and said “just a minute” or something like that, and began looking through envelopes of IDs that had been turned in. I thought it was nice of him to check just in case, although I had already been to see if it had turned in a few days ago. Then, suddenly, he turned to me, holding up an ID, and said,
“Is this you?” And it was! It really was! He smiled, and got out a binder where they file papers on everything that gets turned in. He showed me where to sign to say that I came and got it, and said,
“Then we can consider this matter closed.” I liked how he said that sentence, and I will probably end up using it in a book for something. So I had my ID, and my $50, and a lot of worry off my chest. It was a good feeling.
The rest of the morning was running errands, mostly unsuccessfully. I needed to put cash that I had into my credit union account, and none of the ATMs would let me. I also put gas in my car because it needed it. And they said that I could make a deposit at the Vista credit union (inside, not at the ATM), but I got there and it had just closed, at noon. So I was a bit frustrated, but buoyed up somewhat by my newly found ID and my plans to go to Epcot that afternoon, since I had the entire day off. I was going to go home first, and drop off my laptop (I brought it so that I could go to Vista Way and use the wireless), and put on sunscreen, and then go to Epcot.
But I made a wrong turn after I went to the credit union, and after a bit I found myself on a freeway-looking road. This was clearly not the way I had come. I was just about to find a way to turn around, when the archway over the road appeared –
“Welcome to Walt Disney World.”

Well! I was going to Epcot anyway… and I had everything I needed… I began to giggle involuntarily. I would just go! To Epcot! Because I wanted to! Practically accidentally! I followed the signs, laughing and grinning all the way. I wasn’t sure if I would have to pay parking, but I had enough money with me if I did. I pulled up to the gate, and said to the security guard,
“Hi, I’m new and it’s my first time coming.” I held up my Disney ID. “Do I have to pay for parking?”
“You have to pay fifty dollars,” he said, in mock seriousness. Then he broke into a smile.
“No, no, you don’t pay. And if you are with someone, you can get one car behind you in free.” I thanked him very much, and went on in.

I spent a whole afternoon and evening at Epcot, doing whatever I wanted. And there was no rush or pressure to get through everything and ride everything and see everything, because I can come back whenever I want. So I rode only my favorite rides in Future World – Soarin’ and the Figment ride – and then went to the half with all the different countries, and wandered there for the entire rest of the day. I spent a good half an hour in a bookstore sitting in a winged armchair reading a pop-up version of Alice in Wonderland. I walked through every store and looked at everything. I bought pretty chopsticks – not to eat with, but to put in my hair. I rode the Maelstrom ride in Norway, and ate a cloudberry pastry. And at the end of the day, just before Illuminations, I walked home. I knew I had to get up early in the morning – I had training at 7am – and I wanted to save Illuminations for another night. Today had been a day for quiet walking and eating delicious things and feeling like I was wandering around little towns in other countries. Another night would be the time for lights and bedazzlement.

A Shopping Trip and a Sunday

Saturday was not especially interesting – I spent most of the afternoon at Walmart buying bins and things I needed so that I could store things under the bed, and also jeans because I didn’t have any without holes in the knee. I had considered going to one of the parks, but since having things still packed because there was no place to put them was making me crazy, I decided that I needed to go shopping first.
I missed the bus to go back to my apartment, but fortunately another one came in a few minutes.
“Does this bus go to Chatham [my apartment complex]?” I asked a girl who was waiting to board. She told me it did, so I got on, happily, if awkwardly due to the amount of things I was carrying. (Fortunately, since I had bought bins, I could just stack everything inside them and carry it that way.) It turned out that we were going to a couple other places before we made it back to Chatham, which meant that by the time we got there it would have been almost as fast to just wait the hour for the next bus. However, one of the places we stopped was Downtown Disney, and I’d rather sit in an air-conditioned bus for an hour and get to wave at Downtown Disney than sit the same amount of time in a hot Walmart parking lot while my milk spoils.
The rest of Saturday was spent in unpacking and organizing everything. When I was done my room seemed much more comfortable and I felt much better.
Sunday was Global Custodial Training. This means that anyone in any of the parks or resorts or wherever, who is custodial, goes to it. And learns about how to use the various chemicals and tools, and about safety, and about blood-borne pathogens, and other grippingly interesting things like that. And it’s not park-specific, so it was rather devoid of magic. Fortunately, even though it was supposed to go all day, we got through the first lecturing part quickly (I got to go to the front of the class and demonstrate the pan-and-broom and the push broom…) and could go on to the computer lab where we took classes on the computer. These were on safety, asbestos, and on helping guests with disabilities. I turned off the audio narration so that it would just let me speed-read and click through it and then take the tests, so I was the first one done, and it wasn’t even 12:30 yet. They were going to all go to the Magic Kingdom (I changed my mind, I’m putting in the “the,” it’s making me crazy remembering to leave it out every time) for lunch, but I hadn’t been to the Magic Kingdom yet, and I didn’t want my first time to be in this thoroughly unmagical atmosphere (my spell check thinks “unmagical” should be either “unmusical” or “numerical”; which do you think fits better? They both have their merits), so when he said I could go ahead and clock out and go home if I wanted to, I took him up on it. (Wow, that sentence turned out really long, with too many parenthetical clauses. I hope you don’t mind. If it didn’t make sense, just go back and read it, skipping over the parenthetical remarks, and it should make more sense.) That meant all I had to sign the form saying that I didn’t want a Hepatitis B shot (I’ve been to Mexico and Greece without one, I think I can handle the dangers of Disney World), and I could leave.
During the afternoon, I drove around to Taco Bell and to the Commons (where the housing meeting on the first day was) to see if they had found my ID. They hadn't. I also took a bus over to Vista Way where the wireless is, and was able to finally get online for a while to check my e-mail. I looked up directions to First Baptist of Orlando, since they had a Sunday night service.
I took a couple wrong turns trying to get there, so I was about 15 minutes late, but I was so desperate for church I didn’t care. Usually I hate going into a service late. And it’s a huge church so the parking lot was confusing and it took me a bit to figure out where I was supposed to go in. I found it eventually. They were singing, and it seemed like a pretty relaxed atmosphere – a few people were toward the back, sitting at tables talking quietly while the singing went on – so I wasn’t too shy about just going in and finding a seat. I just wanted a back edge seat, but there weren’t any open except one where someone was in the next one over. So I went there, and felt a bit awkward and self-conscious about standing right next to someone who I didn’t know.
The lighting was concert-style – all different colors of lights on the stage, and twirly lights on the ceiling. It was cool and beautiful, and it’s good that people with a gift for that sort of thing can worship God by doing it well for his church – but I would have given an awful lot for a single-guitar and candlelit Vespers. It was good to sing with other believers – it was good to be in a Christian atmosphere. The sermon was about praising God even when things are going badly – one that we’ve all heard many times, but we always seem to need to hear again. While we were singing, I noticed a young woman across the aisle from me, singing with such genuine passion and love for God that it warmed my heart. Much to my surprise, the pastor giving the sermon called her up to share what had been happening in her life. It turned out that a friend of hers had offered her some weight-loss pills to try. Momentary loss of reason (that’s a useful phrase, is it not? I stole it from the song, of course), and she took them. It turned out they were from Mexico, and were contaminated. A few days later, at her job with an airline, they had a drug test, and she tested positive for amphetamines. Despite explaining the situation, she lost her job – a job she loved. But it had also been the thing that defined who she was. Losing it taught her to have her whole identity depend on God, not her career. It was so amazing, after seeing how much joy she radiated as she sang praise to God, to hear her story.
As I was leaving, though, I was overcome with how badly I missed Blythefield. I was glad that no one talked to me, because a kind word probably would have made me go absolutely to pieces. When I got home, though, I was comforted by the presence of my friendly roommates – and by calling my mother. Nicole, Kara, and Marijka went out for the evening, but Dani was at work and Abby and I stayed home. I was happy that I had the next day off, and was hoping to go to Epcot - after I went and paid $50 for a new housing ID, since today had been the last day for my temporary pass.

Traditions and Dinner with my Roommates

On Friday I went to Traditions. This is the class that teaches you all about being an official Walt Disney World cast member. I wasn’t sure if it would be boring or not. Parts of it were – the parts that are required for anyone being an employee anywhere, the parts about safety and OSHA and harassment, but they got through those as quickly as they could, and everything that was specific to Disney was interesting – it was all about what makes Disney magic!
First off, I’m a cast member in a costume, not an employee in a uniform. You might think that this is just a silly matter of semantics, but it’s not. It’s a whole worldview. (Sorry, CUers, had to put that in…) We are treated and honored as members of the cast of a show, not lowly employees. The costumes are for beauty and the visual effect for the guests (not customers!), not for boring utilitarianism. Even my costume, which is one of the most boring ones, has some bright yellow and blue on it, and it’s bright white instead of a dull gray, which would be more practical for cleaning, but wouldn’t look as nice. And the guests really are guests, not just customers. It’s the whole thing Walt Disney started – if you focus more on making the guests happy than on making money, the money will come. The goal, oddly enough, that we were taught as the main point of Walt Disney World, is not to get as much money out of each person as possible. It is to do everything in our power to make sure that every person in the park has them most fabulous time of his or her life. Of course, there is some focus on making money – it’s a business. There are the little shops everywhere so that people will buy things, and of course they’re overpriced. But you have to make some money to make the magic possible. And a sort of summing-up of all this is where I come in.
I’m magic – every cast member is. If I watch a little girl trip and drop her ice cream cone on the ground, I can take her and her parents to the nearest ice cream place and get her a new one, for free. If a little boy loses hold of his balloon and it goes floating away up over Cinderella’s castle, I can get him a new one. Can you imagine this happening at, say, Michigan’s Adventure? As much as I love that place – if I lost my ice cream cone there, and a custodial person tried to take me to the place to get a new one for free, they’d laugh in our faces. And I learned in my more role-specific training today, that we can do it without asking anyone for anything up to $30, and even if it’s more than $30, we can call a manager and ask about it.
The four values are safety, courtesy, show, and efficiency. In that order. Although I think show and courtesy might be tied, actually. But at any rate, my personality is a big fan of the fact that efficiency is at the bottom. It’s there, and it’s important, but it’s not the most important thing.
I think that by the end of the class many people were jealous of my placement in Magic Kingdom. Because really, it’s at the heart of the magic. And I’m so glad I get to spend most of my time for the next semester in one of my favorite places in the world.
We play along. We curtsey to the little girls and call them “Your Highness.” When someone asks how Tinkerbelle flies, before the fireworks show, we say, “With pixie dust, of course!” No matter how old the person asking is. Because in Magic Kingdom, fairy tales are real. For just one day, we can make everything almost perfect. It won’t be perfect, this side of heaven. But we can give people a taste. And maybe it will whet their appetite for what things are really supposed to be like.
On Friday night my roommates and I (except Nicole, who was doing something else) went out to eat. We were going to go to a place called Sizzlers, because we could get a discount there, but we haven’t fully mastered the confusingly named roads of this area yet, and we couldn’t find it. So we went to Ponderosa instead. It was a little more money than I wanted to spend, but well worth it for the sake of bonding with my roommates. And the food was good.
We were talking about languages, and I was telling about how my dad spoke Spanish because he grew up in Venezuela. And then they wondered why, because it was pretty clear I wasn’t Hispanic. (Nicole and Dani are, and Kara’s Japanese, and Marijka’s Philipino. So now you can picture them slightly more accurately, in case you were picturing them with blond hair or something. No one has blond hair in our apartment.) So I told them that my dad’s parents were missionaries in Venezuela. A little later my family came up again and they asked what my dad did. I couldn’t remember the catechism answer (what is it again, Papa?), so I just said, “He’s the coordinator of Spanish language ministries at the Institute for Religious Research in Grand Rapids.”
“Oh,” they replied. And of course the next question was,
“Is your family very religious?”
“What do you mean by very religious?” I asked. They were stumped for a moment as to how to explain it.
“Well, do you go to church – as a family?” Kara asked.
“Yes.”
“Every Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then,” she said, as though that settled the matter. I knew it didn’t, of course, but decided not to pursue it right then. That sort of thing is better with only two or three people, not five, unless you know each other quite well. At least that’s how it seems to me. Talking about it further when four people are required to listen for the sake of politeness is too much like preaching. We hadn’t got beyond the small talk stage yet, and Christianity doesn’t make good small talk. It’s all or nothing. But that’s enough of me philosophizing, and that’s also the end of the account of Friday.

More Meetings, and Shopping

This post describes Thursday, September 6th.

The next day I had to be over at Vista Way again at 9:30 for another meetingish thing. I was going to take the bus that arrived at around 9:15 (taking the bus that arrived at 9:29 seemed like it would be cutting it a bit close…), but then the bus driver wouldn’t let me on without my housing ID (I had lost it, if you remember from the last entry.) I had hoped that he would let me on based on the arrival check-in badge around my neck, which we were to wear for the first week, but he was utterly stoic and unfeeling to my pleas. I went and sat on the curb to pull myself together, and then went to the front desk to ask him what one was to do when one was such an idiot as to lose one’s housing ID on the very first day. He was very kind, and gave me a temporary ID (I dubbed it the Pathetic Piece of Purple Paper), which would last me three days, and if I didn’t find it by then I would have to pay for a new one - $50. I fervently hoped to find it.
Fortunately I was in time to catch the bus that arrived at 9:29. I couldn’t find my way from the bus stop to the pavilion, but fortunately I wasn’t the only one, and several of us lost new ones banded together and made our way there. It turned out to not matter especially – it wasn’t a meeting really, just staggered arrival times for another follow-the-signs day.
The best part of the day was finding out our locations. I’m sure my mother has already spread the word to some of you – but I get to work in Magic Kingdom! (And yes, it’s “Magic Kingdom” not “The Magic Kingdom.” Personally, I think it sounds better with “The,” but everywhere I see it written or hear it said on anything official, it’s just “Magic Kingdom.”) I am very excited for this, because Magic Kingdom is my very favorite place. And I am regular-plain-old boring-white-costume pan-and-broom and empty-the-trash custodial, so I’m sorry if that disappoints anyone, but I get to be paid to wander around the Magic Kingdom and I like to clean places I love anyway, so I do not mind. And this is the tale of Cinderannie, so it has to start out with cleaning. Who knows how it will end?
We also signed up for classes. I really want to take the Entertainment class (it’s only supposed to be for theatre majors, which I’m not), and I showed the lady my letter of recommendation from the theatre professor at Cornerstone, and she let me check the box for it. The lady at registration said when she saw my form that I would be on a waiting list after the theatre majors got first pick, and then I showed her my letter, and she said, “Oh, I see,” in a that-might-make-a-difference sort of voice, but then she just stapled it to the form and said they would call me. Which they haven’t. I think tomorrow I will call them. I really want to take that class.
That’s everything interesting about that day (which was Thursday). I had the afternoon free and I went shopping at Walmart and spent more money than I ought to have, on things like office supplies, but that’s not interesting, except for me missing the bus back from Walmart and having to take another one that went around to Downtown Disney. I didn’t get back hardly any earlier than I would have if I’d just waited for the normal bus back, but I’d rather spend an hour on an air-conditioned bus seeing Downtown Disney than spend it sitting in a hot Walmart parking lot.

Arrival Day

Note: I posted yesterday as well, so if you didn't read that one yet, you should read it before this one, if you want to.

Now to tell about check-in (and everything else that happened the first day I was there). We followed the signs to where we were supposed to park, and then I sat in the car a bit combing my hair out and getting to look presentable. Then we went up to the check-in table. Thad couldn’t come with me through any of it – he had to go right to the Family and Friends Pavilion. So I gave him my keys so he could get his book out of the car, since they said this was going to take about two hours. They gave me a notebook-size hand book with lots of information in it and forms I had to fill out. After that it was like a scavenger hunt – we had to keep following the signs from one station to the next, doing all the things that needed to be done, like getting our apartment assigned and getting our picture taken for our housing ID.
I wasn’t expecting to get a choice of housing – it had been implied that we would just be assigned housing when we got there – but the lady at the desk asked me which apartment complex I wanted, Vista Way or Chatham. Remembering the advice given by a friend of my grandmother’s, I chose Chatham. She said she had a three-bedroom available, and was that fine? I said yes, it was. The three and four bedroom apartments are cheaper and there would be a greater chance of me being compatible with at least one of them. They gave us lots of papers, and we had to get fingerprinted – the guy asked what color my hair was, and I didn’t know what to say! It’s reddish blondish goldish brown, but that wasn’t one of the choices. I saw afterward that “Red” included auburn, so perhaps I should have gone with that. The guy said strawberry blonde was an option, so I said yes to that, but it was just included in “Blonde,” and my hair isn’t blonde. I suppose since I’m not planning on doing any thing that would require my fingerprint record to be looked up, it doesn’t really matter. How would you describe my hair color?
By the time everything was done – and I’d run around to get my keys from Thad so I could get my registration and proof of insurance so I could get my car sticker – I just barely had time to catch the bus to make it to the noon housing meeting. It was supposed to be two hours long. With apologies to Thad for him being put through this, I left. The housing meeting was just as dull as I expected. You from Cornerstone – or probably any other people who’ve stayed in dorms – know the drill. Lots of rules and policies. And at the end a spiel from Vista Credit Union (the Disney credit union) about how we should all sign up for it. But I am loyal to my credit union ever since they graciously canceled my overdraft fees that I deserved, and have no intention of joining a different one. But I had to sit through the spiel – and through waiting for the people who wanted to sign up to do so – before I could go rescue poor Thad. By this time it was two o’clock, and neither of us had eating since breakfast, and we were ferociously hungry. So we went to Taco Bell.
We had just time after eating to find my apartment and unload my things. On coming to the apartment complex, I discovered to my dismay that I didn’t have the housing ID I had just gotten. I had had it in my pocket, and now it was gone. Fortunately they let me in because I had the temporary one-day pass on my dashboard, and I went and found my apartment. It is on the third floor of building 19. All the beds were taken but one, which was actually something of a relief because it meant I didn’t have to make a decision. At first I thought no one was there, but there was someone in the room with the one empty bed. She was rather tall, with long red hair.
“Roommate?” she asked cheerily.
“Yes,” I answered. “I’m Joanna.”
“I’m Abby,” she said. And we both said something polite, and I said I liked her ninja turtle sheets. We were both trying to be friendly at the same time, and not be awkward, but of course it didn’t work very well because how can you not be awkward when you’re trying to convey that you want to be as friendly as possible, but you’ve never seen each other before in your lives? She helped a bit as we unloaded, but then she just stayed up in the apartment so we could leave the door unlocked (it locks automatically when it closes). Two people just being able to come in and out is quicker than three people having to fight with unlocking the door every single time, I think. At any rate it’s less frustrating.
Once everything was in, it was time to take Thad to the airport. I followed the signs, and dropped him off at the Midwest gate, and we said goodbye, and I drove away. And then I was really and truly alone, and I searched through the radio stations so as to avoid crying. I found one Christian station (but it’s not a very good one, it doesn’t play much of the best music) and then another one in Spanish! The Christian Spanish station is very nice, and I know just enough Spanish to know from the feel of the song and scattered words the general idea of what the song is about.
The apartment is lovely – large and spacious and airy and the walls are all white instead of that horrid dingy yellowish color of the Cornerstone dorms and apartments. That evening I met my other apartment mates – Dani and Nicole and Kara and Marijka – but I couldn’t keep track of their names just yet. I spent most of the evening unpacking. Some of the others hung out in the kitchen area talking, and I thought I ought to so as not to seem antisocial, but I couldn’t stand leaving my boxes all there disorganized and a disaster and needing unpacking, and anyway I’m no good at small talk.
The other roommates wanted to just all buy groceries and split them, as opposed to everyone having their own groceries and cupboard. I was rather skeptical of this idea – what if they liked things completely different from me, or expensive things I couldn’t afford? But when four of them came back from that evening’s Walmart (the spell check thinks I should spell it “Wal-Mart,” but I think that looks weird, like writing “Jell-O,” or capitalizing Styrofoam or Kleenex or Tupperware) expedition, the resultant groceries might have come home in my mother’s van, when she came back from an shopping trip particularly suited to my tastes. Sliced cheese, and also good block cheese, and sliced turkey, and bagels, and frozen turkey breasts to cook, and cereal, and I don’t remember what all else, but it was all just perfect, and I knew this system would work out fine. So I took a bunch of things out of my cupboard and added them to the pantry as my contribution to our groceries (I also had given them $5 when they left). We also bought a water filter jug because the water here smells and tastes like a dirty dishrag.
This concludes the account of my arrival day.

The Second Travel Day

I am sorry that this has not been updated at all. I don’t have internet in my apartment, because my computer’s VPN connection is not working, so the only way for me to get internet on my laptop is to go to the wireless lounge at the other apartment complex. However, I have now decided that I shall simply write entries on Microsoft Word, and then copy and paste them into Blogger whenever I get internet. And now, tonight, I’m picking up wireless from somewhere in the living room of the apartment, so I’m going to take advantage of it and post. There are going to be some back entries, while I tell about what has happened since the last time I wrote. I will post them just one at a time, because if I post them all at once you won’t read them, I know you won’t. So you’ll have to gradually catch up to what’s really happening to me.

So, to start with, I left off after my very first day of driving. The second day did not involve any adventures. It involved driving through “Georgia forever,” as my mother has nicknamed the state. It was rather dull. The only interesting thing was having a lizard in our hotel room, which Thad named Timkins. I will upload a few pictures Thad took of him when I have a better connection. He was very cute.
The hotel room was clean but didn’t smell nice; it smelled like someone had been in it before us whose luggage all smelled of cats. And the hostess was very rude to us at the continental breakfast. We got up rather early since I wanted to get to Disney at around 10, so as to have plenty of time and not be in a rush, so we were the only ones eating breakfast. There was a TV blaring the news loudly. Since we were the only ones there, I turned it all the way down so we couldn’t hear it, planning to turn it back up if someone else came. A few minutes later, the hostess (that is what you call the front desk lady at a hotel, isn’t it? Or is hostess only for restaurants?) came in and turned it back up. I thought she just didn’t know I had turned it down, and thought we wanted it up. I left it, though, while we ate – until it started blaring sordid details about some book that had been published about Anna Nicole Smith, which wasn’t my idea of pleasant breakfast ambiance. So I went and turned it off again. The hostess instantly reappeared, and told me – in the tone one would use with a child who is being frustratingly naughty – that she had just turned it back up, and that I couldn’t turn it all the way down because people wanted to hear it.
“We’re the only ones here at the moment,” I answered. “I’ll turn it back up if anyone comes.” And then she said something else and I said something else, I don’t remember what exactly, but it was along those same lines, and then she said, again in the tone an annoyed mother would use with a five-year-old who was talking back,
“The TV is turned up, and that’s just the way it’s gonna be.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I’m in the area,” I replied, and went back to eating my breakfast. I was astonished, afterward, because I never think of quick replies. I always just sort of splutter, and think of a really good comeback ten minutes later – or the next day. But I said that without even thinking. I would have liked to also say that my family was coming down later and they had been asking us for our recommendations, and that I was I keeping a blog that many people would read, and this would certainly go in it. But I think that would have been overkill, and I just would have been perceived as a screamy customer. Understated is better in that sort of situation, I do believe. But at any rate, the place was Quality Inn South in Valdosta, Georgia, in case you care.
It was interesting – I hadn’t thought of myself as being especially sensitive, but I have noticed that whenever a stranger is rude and harsh to me without cause, I go slightly to pieces. Even if I don’t think I feel bad emotionally, I almost always have a strong physical reaction – I shake, and sometimes get tears in my eyes involuntarily. That’s how it was when a guy cussed me out once (not on this trip) when I didn’t deserve it – I thought I was not really caring, other than being stunned that he was doing it and thinking him a complete jerk – and then I suddenly found that I was crying. It was the same here – I didn’t cry, but I did start shaking and my heart was beating very quickly. I didn’t really feel upset, though. I don’t know why I always get that physical reaction.
We left the hotel at a little before seven thirty. It was nice because we were in Florida quite soon, early enough that we didn’t call my sister right away to tell her we were in a new state, which is what we had been doing. Then we just drove, and got to the Vista Way apartment complex, which is where the check-in was, without making any wrong turns. But if I tell about all the rest of this day this entry is four pages long, so you’ll have to wait to hear about check-in until tomorrow.

The Very First Post

Hello, family and friends of the family,

This is Joanna, writing the very first Cinderannie journal. I wasn’t expecting to write one tonight (“We drove all day and then stayed in a hotel” doesn’t make very exciting reading) but the day turned out a bit more interesting than I expected.
My brother Thad is traveling with me, and then flying back to Michigan. I am extremely glad to have him along. We left at about 9:30 this morning after hugs and goodbyes from all my family and siblings. And… we drove. Indiana is rather pretty, being basically all farmland. In fact, Thad and I were getting extremely hungry (as we traveled down a strange road that didn’t know whether it was a freeway or not – one minute there would be exits and then next thing you know there’s a stop light), and turned down a somewhat promising looking road (meaning there was a hotel and not just farms), but the only thing there was Pizza Quik. It didn’t look like the sort of place one should eat at if one wants to be in good health later. So we turned around in the long driveway of a beautiful farmhouse on a hill, and stopped at the next place we came to, a Subway-Citgo travel plaza-ish thing. Neither of us are Subway lovers but it was good and we were starving, and it was the only thing to eat besides raw corn out of fields as far as we could see. Then, five or ten minutes after we were back on the road, we reached the city of Kokomo.
It was the twin of Alpine. Stores and restaurants everywhere. IHOP, Steak’n’Shake, McDonalds, Taco Bell, Kohl’s, Arby’s, TJ Maxx, Best Buy, Burger King, Wendy’s, Outback Steak House, JC Penney… yeah. Out of nowhere, emerging from the everlasting fields of corn, a gleaming metropolis. And we’d already eaten. Highly unfortunate. But we couldn’t have known.
Round about 6:45pm, my car’s oil light started blinking, and I remembered that I’d forgotten to check the oil before I left, and it probably needed more (it leaks). So we got off at the next exit (we had just gotten into Tennessee), and pulled into a BP. And noticed it was smoking. Oh dear. So I popped the hood (it stopped smoking quite quickly) and checked the oil. Lower than it ought to be. And then I noticed that the coolant was far lower than it ought to be. Dear me. So I went inside and bought coolant. There was an old man in line behind me, thin with a long somewhat scraggly white beard and a friendly, honest, mountain man face.
“Do you need any help with that?” he asked, motioning to the coolant. For a brief second I was baffled – it wasn’t that heavy! – but then I realized he meant with whatever car issue was causing me to need to buy coolant. “No, thanks,” I said with a smile, “It’s just low on coolant.”
But when I got back to my car I discovered that that was not the only problem. The coolant hose was leaking, a thin steady stream. Rats. Just then the old man came out, so I went up to him and said somewhat sheepishly, “Excuse me, but since you offered help… the coolant hose is leaking.” He came right over and examined it.
“Do either of you have a pocket knife or anything?” he asked. I pulled mine out, I must admit somewhat proudly. I am not a completely useless girl, I do have a pocket knife. He explained that since the leak was right near the end of the hose, I could just take off the clamp (Thad was better at seeing how the clamp worked than I was; it was covered in grease and it was hard for me to perceive it until I looked at the clean one at the other end), cut off the end of the hose, and reattach it (there was plenty of slack in the hose to allow this). He also advised reversing the ends of the hose since the end attached to the coolant reservoir didn’t have any pressure on it so we could put the more damaged end there. All this would have to be done after the engine cooled down. I thanked him very much, and Thad and I bought drinks and sat in the car waiting for it to get cool.
We ended up having to use pliers (I’m double not useless, I have a tool chest!) to get the clamp off (after our first attempt, when it was still too hot, and we had to wait again), and then discovered that the end of the rubber hose had melted and then re-hardened and as a result the clamp was impossible to remove from the hose. So I cut off the damaged end, and after futile efforts to get the end of the hose out of the clamp, I went in and bought a new clamp (or actually, I bought six, as they came together). They were a different type than the other one. “You’ll need a screwdriver,” said the lady at the counter. “I have one in my tool box in the trunk,” I said (proudly).
It took some effort, but we got the hose all back on correctly, and the oil and coolant filled up, and by the time we had gotten washed up it was a few minutes past eight. I was quite pleased. My car had broken down, and my brother and I had fixed it, with advice from a friendly Tennessean (they were all so nice!), and I hadn’t even had to call my dad, and I’d even figured out what the problem was all by my own self! And used my own pliers and my own screwdriver and my own pocket knife to fix my own car. I was glad Thad was there. It was a friendly not creepy gas station, but what if it hadn’t been? And I was stuck there for ages waiting for my car to cool? Besides that, he understood the clamp better than I did.
Okay, I was going to write about the adventures of Nashville, but this is quite long enough and I need to go to sleep. Suffice it to say that although we were never exactly lost (we always knew where we were on the map) we went down at least three wrong freeways and if I never drove through Nashville again it would be okay with me. And people think Grand Rapids having three freeways is bad… at any rate, we got to our hotel all right, and it’s time to sleep. We’re going to sleep in a little tomorrow because it’s a good deal shorter drive. And not so much confusing freeways, and hopefully my car will not break down. But if it does, I have confidence that between me, my brother, my tool chest, my pocket knife, and friendly Southerners, it can be fixed.

Good night.