Finding Neverland (and my table is accused of naughty nookie)

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Well, I’ve returned from my trip to the House O’Mouse.  The Puppy, my parents, and I had a stellar time; Sweetie Darling?  He was rather nonplussed.  I was shocked.  There were moments of WHOA! involved for sure, but considering Pup and I thought he’d be like a pig in poo?  It was a mild let down.  As this is a solid week’s worth of stuff involved, I’m afraid I am gonna have to do the dreaded bullet list in order to get ten thousand random things lurking in my head to form thoughts.  That, and if I take them each individually?  There would be nothing but Disney for a solid week….and I won’t bore you to tears that way.  Not that this is any better!

Day 1: It’s tradition to listen to books on CD while traveling across the country for Puppy & I.  This trip we each got one: I got the Pulitzer Prize winning John Adams book I’ve been dying to read & Puppy got the new David Baldacci.  After listening to 9 hours of John’s life and not even getting to his presidency, we arrive in Birmingham to visit Blue Momma and her hubby.  My first opinion of Bham is that there are hills.  As I have always been terrified of heights and don’t do hilly well, this is said with a, “I’m not sure about this place.” I loved meeting BM, and considering I’ve been chatting, emailing, and IRL talking to her since August?  This was something I’d been waiting ages to do.   We had a great dinner at a Thai place and Puppy, despite being very scared of her, didn’t cower - well, much.  Of course, we are stupid and choose to arrive in Bham the weekend as some event at Talladega, and being a bit incredulous about why people enjoy watching men drive in circles trying to prove who has bigger weenies by driving 220mph…I didn’t know Talladega was all of half an hour away.  Which explains why it was so damn hard to find a hotel.  And, made me again appreciate only spending $8.00 in parking thanks to the gods of Hilton HHonors (or is it whores?  like Paris?) for giving me a free night at the Doubletree complete with cookies.  I saw far too many people lugging coolers.  Far too many large neck bottles of beer.  And, again, I question how Nascar is a sport (and if you’ve kept up with Puppy’s list you know it is NOT one) and am reminded of how many types of people constitute the USA.

 

Day 2: Due to the race making I-20 through Atlanta no longer possible, we instead drove through Alabama.  I kept asking Puppy, “What are boiled peanuts?  Why are their signs for them all over the place?  And, oh, look! there’s a sign for fried peanuts.  Seriously?” I’m still wondering if Jimmy Carter (you all knew he was a peanut farmer, right?) is along this rural route hawking peanuts to timid travelers.  Our first night in Orlando is at an Embassy Suites (thanks HHonors!) with the manager’s drinkfest from 5-7.  We arrived precisely at 5 in order to get ample liquid dinner.  We hit Downtown Disney looking for food a few hours later.  And, to my total delight I discover The British are Coming!  I’m surrounded by Europeans.  I don’t know if maybe the UK has a late spring break, which is possible, but considering the Euro & the pound are worth about a buck eighty right now?  Why not come over and see Disney?  Which, apparently, they all did - in droves.  I ate dinner next to a couple with two kiddos that I fawned over.  Puppy kept telling me, “Holly, you know you are not allowed to play “guess where in England that accent is from,” right?  Leave the poor people be.”  “But, Pup!  That’s a London accent if ever I’ve heard one.  Please?”  I left them alone, but there were so many Brits in Disney, I would’ve thought I was on a tube near Picadilly and it really did take all of my powers not to play the accent game.   The Germans, who still don’t wear deodorant (And this is Florida in 80 degree heat…EWWW!!), I was easily able to stay away from them.

Day 3: The kiddo arrives with my parents.  We went to the airport and gathered the family before going to our Disney hotel.  SD apparently slept the whole flight so is still under the impression he’s somewhere near my parents’ house and doesn’t “get” it.  We gather our stuff, and head to Magic Kingdom.  The tyke is about one inch too little to ride most of the “scary” things, which is just fine by me, because…well, because I’m a total titty baby and don’t like rides.  There.  I said it.  I don’t do thrill.  Our first ride was the Buzz Lightyear one where you shoot Emperor Zurg’s minions.  I have Flip footage of this, and I hope at some point, I’ll be able to upload it…but I won’t hold my breath.  My favorite ride the last time we visited the park was the Tomorrowland Transit Authority aka the silly little train that takes you through Space Mountain and goes precisely 4mph.  I rode it about twelve times in a row waiting for Pup to ride Space.  So, obviously, taking the kid on my favorite ride was something I couldn’t wait to do…and then it broke…with us in the tunnel at Space Moutain.  We walked through a super secret door and through the bowels of hell only to emerge with coveted use anywhere in the park Fast Passes.  We used them at the Winnie the Pooh ride.  Then, like Milne says, ”The rain came down.” We left the park soaked, ate at the hotel dining hall thingy, and went back to the room where Pup & I realized sleeping in a room with the kid meant either he’d be up late or we’d be going to bed at 8.  We somewhat compromised and went to “bed” at about 9:30, which is VERY late for SD. 

Day Four: Oh, it’s 2am.  What the hell is that?  Oh, my child!  “Mommy, you aren’t wearing your necklace.”  “Ahh, Sweetie, go to BED!”  Tuesday was early park hours (the best perk you get by staying at a Disney resort) at Epcot.  And, my kiddo, loved it.  Afterall, it is the home to “the biggest golf ball of all.” And, not only that?  You can actually ride a ride inside the golf ball.  We realized only after we got there that only about three things are open at 8, when Magic Hours start.  One being Soarin, which is the ride Dad and Puppy have gone to do.  My mom and I had to deal with Sweetie Darling and the fact that the ride we planned to do, Nemo, is not open.  So, we waited.  An hour.  And, thank God the kid is being angelic and agreed to sit in his stroller (something he’d NEVER do at home) for most of the hour wait.  Well, that and the seagulls saying, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” were something so hysterical, he could not get enough of them.  We ran from Nemo to the “character meet & greet” line in order to get pictures with Mickey.  Another full hour later, we “meet” Mickey.  And, the lovely cast members taking pictures apparently only took pictures of the back of tyke’s head (which we found out only upon returning home, of course!).  My dad, being a dope, was given our camera to take the family pictures.  He kept telling us the camera was broken.  Umm…we figure out later the brim of his hat prevented the flash from popping up and that was the “broken” camera.  Dope!  The only halfway normal picture is the one at the top a cast member kindly took.  This is also day four of me having forgotten conditioner.  My hair in the pictures goes from bad to appalling accordingly.

Day Five: Animal Kingdom.  Ho hum.  I’m not a huge fan.  Puppy and my dad ride the Everest rollar coaster several times.  The kid is losing his excitement.  We left quickly after riding the dinosaur copy of the Dumbo ride multiple times.  After nap, we hit the Disney MGM park which is also ho hum and where my dad & Pup rode the Aerosmith Rockin Rollar Coaster twice.  This was where we got the best giggles from the kiddo.  He loved the Muppets in 3D show.  LOVED it.

Day Six: Early hours at Magic Kingdom.  I don’t know how, but we managed to hit every single ride we’d missed by 11:30 am.  And, this included: Dumbo, Small World, Jungle Cruise, Snow White, Tiki Room, Country Bears, Haunted Mansion, Pirates & Teapots - did I mention my 63 yo dad got sick from the teapots?  No, well he did!  We were en fuego at getting through the lines.  Rock on me hearties.  And, despite Burgh saying to the contrary, there was this new deadly drop in Pirates.  I only discovered this as the boat in front of us erupts in screams in the dark cavern ahead of us.  Umm.  Shite!  I debated jumping into the water and grabbing hold of Cpt. Barbossa, but I thought this would not be good role modeling for the tyke.  So, I screamed like the sissy I am…and he laughed.  Boy.  I felt just great that my newly three year old was better at a kiddy ride than his 30 year old mom.  Yeah.

Day Seven: Drop the tyke and the ‘rents at the airport and head towards the sunset.  On our way to Orlando, we stopped for lunch & gas in Tallahassee.  We arrived in New Orleans with rain.  Yuck.  And, how sad.  It’s been 2.5 years.  It still looks like it might’ve weeks after the storm.  Puppy’d never been.  And, you just gotta go once to eat some beignets and walk through the Quarter.  His initial reaction? “Damn this place is a shithole.” His final reaction? “Damn this place is a shithole.”  I was really shocked at how little reconstruction had taken place.  *Here is my rant* As the dregs of NO society were bussed to my hometown and the murder and crime rate went up 25% accordingly…not to mention many of them spending those 3000 cards our taxes gave them for free at Tiffanys in the Galleria, you would’ve thought the people left behind or that returned would’ve cleaned the place up.  Nope.  What are they doing with the billions in aid they’ve been given??  *end of my rant* Although, I did notice there were some really nice places that didn’t seem to belong.  I walked by mini-mall with a Saks, a Pottery Barn, a French Connection (and there isn’t even one in all of DFW!), and a Brooks Brothers that were across the street from Coyote Ugly and some sketchy bars.  It didn’t make sense.  Although, Mr. Diabetic did love his beignets from Cafe du Monde.  How could you not?

Okay.  That’s the trip in a nutshell.  I know this was a long, random hodgepodge of crap from the inner workings of my kooky brain - SORRY!  But, then I return.  And, discover something: Catwoman has gone and called me out in a guest post on MY BLOG.  Saying something about my kitchen table o’nookie.  Well, I must set the record straight.  There was one nooner at that table and it was 9 years ago.  I can’t believe you got me to admit that.  Geez wumman.  Where she’s getting this swabbing the poop deck crap?? I have no idea.  Oh, and thanks.  Having to face my brother & sister-in-law about that?  Was justification to drink to excess.  How do you look at your baby brother (well, one you’ve known since before his voice changed) and discuss rear entry and how Catwoman is a total liar?  Egads!!  The position YOU put me in was far more dirty than the one you imagined Puppy did!

Then, Burgh goes and brings up the damned jon jon debacle of 08.  She’s really making me think about calling off our girl-on-girl wedding in Vermont again.  And, after Antics already agreed to shell out $19.95 to get an online officiant license.  Burgh?  Do I need to cancel the caterer?  Everybody’s set to spend that stimulus package in New Hampshire - the land of no sales tax.  You wouldn’t want me to get cold feet again, would you?  I mean our June wedding.  The invitations are set to go out.  June Cleaver is our maid of honor.  The perfect shade of lavender.  I would’ve even been the boy & gotten the tux.

Thank you to BM, Janet, and Bren for doing nice, innocent posts….hmmm….see if I play hooky again anytime soon!

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Filed under Crazy Tyke God Gave Me, I love SD, I love the Puppy, I'm such a freakazoid