Thursday, July 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Self-esteem.
I wonder what it is about a girl's internal make-up that makes her self-esteem fluctuate the way it does. I woke up this morning and when I walked to the bathroom and saw my approach in the mirror, I felt this surge of pride for the girl that I am. It may have been superficial, a brief admiration of sloping, feminine lines and messy bed-head, but I think every girl needs to wake up feeling that way every once in a while. It's not often I'm proud of myself; I find a flaw in everything that I am, but the small pride I feel in some instances is so much stronger than the self-deprecation I put myself through.
It took 20 years, but I finally know now that it's not me, it's them and one day they'll regret their choice.
It's nice to know that someone likes you. I've been having some strong self-esteem issues while I've been here, but now I feel like things are leveling out. Turns out the boy that I liked at the beginning of my program told a friend of mine to give me his number. Wow, talk about ego boost right there. I couldn't help but smile coyly the rest of the day because I felt like 'well, why can't he just give it to me himself, hahaha!' My mom's always saying that had I grown up in Puerto Rico, I would have been the proverbial belle of the ball... sometimes I wonder what it'd be like and realize that maybe there's truth in her words, because I sometimes feel this proud and pleased empress smiling somewhere in my inner workings, a kiss in the right-hand corner of her mouth that no one can ever quite get... to quote J. M. Barrie. I feel like the girl that fights for the upper hand in my heart is the girl I might have been.
The day after Kyle told me that little bit, I was heading to class and I ran into this Italian guy that took an instantaneous liking to me. He even asked me that same day if I wanted to have dinner with him. I'm so cautious and shy, but I ended up agreeing and we met at Downtown Disney to eat at Rainforest Cafe. It was a really nice dinner, actually... I had never eaten there before. We talked for probably two hours straight... he's not a CP, but an International working here for a year. Very, very interesting. I think it turned into a date because he paid for everything against my denial of him doing so. At one point of the dinner, he told me he felt like he'd known me a long time -- 'maybe we knew each other in a another life.' I was amused, but of course, naturally cynical. I can't help but be suspicious when people drop lines like that. He eventually asked me if I had a boyfriend back home, and when I told him no, he was very surprised.
"Studies come first for me," I told him.
"Your parents raised you right," he responded.
We got coffee afterward and then decided to watch A Nightmare on Elm Street (which was kind of lame, actually, hahaha). Maybe it's his culture, but everything was very physical. Much more than what I'm at ALL used to with people I've just met. While it was a very nice night, there were times when I froze up like a hare in the tall grass after hearing a twig snap nearby. While I think it's appropriate for one's significant other to be held and touched later on in a relationship, I don't like the feeling of being touched on a "first date." I'm not mad at him for the small touches, but after the initial feeling of pride I got from being told I was beautiful, I woke up and went to work feeling very uneasy and snappy.
I just don't like being touched. Nothing happened and I still felt like crying because I felt like my skin was revolting against me.
He wants to see me again, but I don't think I'd be entirely comfortable seeing him again. He was so nice and smart and funny, but at the same time, I don't know what he wants from me. I want something juvenile and slow. Someone I can goof off with and be best friends with. Not... whatever it is he wanted. I finally told him that I get cautious, nervous, and shy when someone likes me the way he does. He hasn't responded yet.
On a lighter note, while I was working propane yesterday, the Freddy Rodriguez boy that wanted me to have his number was playing in the park. He walked by and waved at me; I smiled and waved back. You could see the consideration on his face, because instead of keeping it as a simple greeting, he turned around and walked back over to chat for a little bit. It was kind of cute.
I like cute.
He had teased me some nights before, which made my face heat up, but... I don't know. I got him back yesterday.
I hope this doesn't worry my family. I know on some level, it will... but my mom has told me that I'm so hard to read, and I feel like it's easier to express myself through words than it is through action. My inner workings come out through my writing, and I do it for her. Please don't worry, Mami.
It took 20 years, but I finally know now that it's not me, it's them and one day they'll regret their choice.
It's nice to know that someone likes you. I've been having some strong self-esteem issues while I've been here, but now I feel like things are leveling out. Turns out the boy that I liked at the beginning of my program told a friend of mine to give me his number. Wow, talk about ego boost right there. I couldn't help but smile coyly the rest of the day because I felt like 'well, why can't he just give it to me himself, hahaha!' My mom's always saying that had I grown up in Puerto Rico, I would have been the proverbial belle of the ball... sometimes I wonder what it'd be like and realize that maybe there's truth in her words, because I sometimes feel this proud and pleased empress smiling somewhere in my inner workings, a kiss in the right-hand corner of her mouth that no one can ever quite get... to quote J. M. Barrie. I feel like the girl that fights for the upper hand in my heart is the girl I might have been.
The day after Kyle told me that little bit, I was heading to class and I ran into this Italian guy that took an instantaneous liking to me. He even asked me that same day if I wanted to have dinner with him. I'm so cautious and shy, but I ended up agreeing and we met at Downtown Disney to eat at Rainforest Cafe. It was a really nice dinner, actually... I had never eaten there before. We talked for probably two hours straight... he's not a CP, but an International working here for a year. Very, very interesting. I think it turned into a date because he paid for everything against my denial of him doing so. At one point of the dinner, he told me he felt like he'd known me a long time -- 'maybe we knew each other in a another life.' I was amused, but of course, naturally cynical. I can't help but be suspicious when people drop lines like that. He eventually asked me if I had a boyfriend back home, and when I told him no, he was very surprised.
"Studies come first for me," I told him.
"Your parents raised you right," he responded.
We got coffee afterward and then decided to watch A Nightmare on Elm Street (which was kind of lame, actually, hahaha). Maybe it's his culture, but everything was very physical. Much more than what I'm at ALL used to with people I've just met. While it was a very nice night, there were times when I froze up like a hare in the tall grass after hearing a twig snap nearby. While I think it's appropriate for one's significant other to be held and touched later on in a relationship, I don't like the feeling of being touched on a "first date." I'm not mad at him for the small touches, but after the initial feeling of pride I got from being told I was beautiful, I woke up and went to work feeling very uneasy and snappy.
I just don't like being touched. Nothing happened and I still felt like crying because I felt like my skin was revolting against me.
He wants to see me again, but I don't think I'd be entirely comfortable seeing him again. He was so nice and smart and funny, but at the same time, I don't know what he wants from me. I want something juvenile and slow. Someone I can goof off with and be best friends with. Not... whatever it is he wanted. I finally told him that I get cautious, nervous, and shy when someone likes me the way he does. He hasn't responded yet.
On a lighter note, while I was working propane yesterday, the Freddy Rodriguez boy that wanted me to have his number was playing in the park. He walked by and waved at me; I smiled and waved back. You could see the consideration on his face, because instead of keeping it as a simple greeting, he turned around and walked back over to chat for a little bit. It was kind of cute.
I like cute.
He had teased me some nights before, which made my face heat up, but... I don't know. I got him back yesterday.
I hope this doesn't worry my family. I know on some level, it will... but my mom has told me that I'm so hard to read, and I feel like it's easier to express myself through words than it is through action. My inner workings come out through my writing, and I do it for her. Please don't worry, Mami.
Potent quotables.
"38B does exist. It's like a mythical unicorn."
"Okay, I'mma need Canada to cut the f*ck out with the stairs. Can we elevator down?"
"I feel like the World Showcase should have a moving sidewalk. Is there a suggestion box?"
"I forgot how to do English."
"How hot do you think it is today?"
"AS HOT AS CORBIN BLEU!"
"I'd love to have that guy's job: 'Get assignment: Hold C3PO.'"
"Girl, put those legs away."
"Okay, I'mma need Canada to cut the f*ck out with the stairs. Can we elevator down?"
"I feel like the World Showcase should have a moving sidewalk. Is there a suggestion box?"
"I forgot how to do English."
"How hot do you think it is today?"
"AS HOT AS CORBIN BLEU!"
"I'd love to have that guy's job: 'Get assignment: Hold C3PO.'"
"Girl, put those legs away."
We, the glamorous.
I thought I had gotten passed the feeling that my work was the most overworked and under-appreciated area in Hollywood. I figured that hey, everyone else works just as hard-- I thought merchandise counted their stock like we did, that entertainment, bless their hearts, are out in the blazing sun dancing and singing, even attractions people have to deal with the craziness of some guests-- that, on some level, there had to be some sort of occupational equality with what we all did, because together we build the foundation of Hollywood Studios.
But I'm bitter again.
It's not that I don't love my job. For the few months that I've worked here, I've realized that its the people that construct the occupation for me, not the work itself. I come to work because I feel such affection towards the faces I know I'll see there. But of those few months I've been here, I also can't help but feel this justified frustration in their stead. These people, who work so hard to keep things running, get no acknowledgment. I felt it so strongly yesterday when we were closing.
First of all, who puts a Propane wagon out on Streets of America when Herbie's sells not only corn dogs, but hot dogs and chili dogs just around the corner? When they finally realized the error of their ignorance (because-- listen to this: they FORGOT Herbie's changed their menu about two months before; that's ODF for you), the propane wagon is then hauled out to Animation. Fine. But when it's about 95+ degrees outside PLUS humidity and that wagon is probably 160 degrees+ and there's no shade provided for the cooker who's standing over pans of boiling water and hot metal... how is that even safe? And yet it's our fault if we get hurt?
Do you know how hard it is to push a cart with half-worn wheels down a small hill when your fingers are slicked with oil? How hard it is to maneuver that same wagon-piece when there is a horde of guests milling around in front of you, trying to beat your speed as they cut you off? I didn't get frustrated until the other cast member I was with did, and it just fed my budding bitterness. As we were pushing the pieces backstage, there was someone from entertainment just walking around on the phone and for some reason, I felt this surge of anger towards them. I hoped they heard the ungodly sound of our cart against the uneven pavement. I know they did. I hope it frustrated them indoors. I hope that they thought it was our fault that the wheels were shot and stiff and that we had put those potholes there for the sole purpose of making their phone call noisy. I wanted him to give me a dirty look. I wanted him to blame me for the noise, because I would gladly claim it all.
It's so hard to sit on the back-dock cleaning, and not be acknowledged by your fellow cast members. We're human too. Don't give us dirty looks if ice litters the ground or if their are slick spots from the water in our carts. No smile, no nod, no 'good morning,' or 'good evening,' or 'good night.' Don't look at the ground when you walk by, we're not on the ground. We don't bite. I can tell you, the times I've been acknowledged by other areas of the workforce-- it makes me smile because this great park that we're helping put together feels that much more like a team.
When guest relations complains, it's because of us-- and yet if we weren't around, there would be a huge problem. People wouldn't complain if we were given the equipment to be more efficient, not hand-me-downs from Magic Kingdom. If it wasn't good enough for one park, don't throw it into our laps. Fix our carts, give us new equipment-- if you can refurbish roller coasters and make big, nonsensical floats for the Incredibles to rise up out of, you definitely have it in your budget for some new popcorn machines and motorized soda dollies.
I'm not making the complaints on behalf of myself, but on behalf of the people who had stuck to this job for years. I'm just here for a few months, but they've been here for so long... and they haven't seen many changes. I wish the higher-ups wouldn't forget that we exist, or that our fellow cast-members didn't abide by an unspoken hierarchy. It's so stupid. We still exist underneath these costumes, no matter how much they want us to be automated robots.
But I'm bitter again.
It's not that I don't love my job. For the few months that I've worked here, I've realized that its the people that construct the occupation for me, not the work itself. I come to work because I feel such affection towards the faces I know I'll see there. But of those few months I've been here, I also can't help but feel this justified frustration in their stead. These people, who work so hard to keep things running, get no acknowledgment. I felt it so strongly yesterday when we were closing.
First of all, who puts a Propane wagon out on Streets of America when Herbie's sells not only corn dogs, but hot dogs and chili dogs just around the corner? When they finally realized the error of their ignorance (because-- listen to this: they FORGOT Herbie's changed their menu about two months before; that's ODF for you), the propane wagon is then hauled out to Animation. Fine. But when it's about 95+ degrees outside PLUS humidity and that wagon is probably 160 degrees+ and there's no shade provided for the cooker who's standing over pans of boiling water and hot metal... how is that even safe? And yet it's our fault if we get hurt?
Do you know how hard it is to push a cart with half-worn wheels down a small hill when your fingers are slicked with oil? How hard it is to maneuver that same wagon-piece when there is a horde of guests milling around in front of you, trying to beat your speed as they cut you off? I didn't get frustrated until the other cast member I was with did, and it just fed my budding bitterness. As we were pushing the pieces backstage, there was someone from entertainment just walking around on the phone and for some reason, I felt this surge of anger towards them. I hoped they heard the ungodly sound of our cart against the uneven pavement. I know they did. I hope it frustrated them indoors. I hope that they thought it was our fault that the wheels were shot and stiff and that we had put those potholes there for the sole purpose of making their phone call noisy. I wanted him to give me a dirty look. I wanted him to blame me for the noise, because I would gladly claim it all.
It's so hard to sit on the back-dock cleaning, and not be acknowledged by your fellow cast members. We're human too. Don't give us dirty looks if ice litters the ground or if their are slick spots from the water in our carts. No smile, no nod, no 'good morning,' or 'good evening,' or 'good night.' Don't look at the ground when you walk by, we're not on the ground. We don't bite. I can tell you, the times I've been acknowledged by other areas of the workforce-- it makes me smile because this great park that we're helping put together feels that much more like a team.
When guest relations complains, it's because of us-- and yet if we weren't around, there would be a huge problem. People wouldn't complain if we were given the equipment to be more efficient, not hand-me-downs from Magic Kingdom. If it wasn't good enough for one park, don't throw it into our laps. Fix our carts, give us new equipment-- if you can refurbish roller coasters and make big, nonsensical floats for the Incredibles to rise up out of, you definitely have it in your budget for some new popcorn machines and motorized soda dollies.
I'm not making the complaints on behalf of myself, but on behalf of the people who had stuck to this job for years. I'm just here for a few months, but they've been here for so long... and they haven't seen many changes. I wish the higher-ups wouldn't forget that we exist, or that our fellow cast-members didn't abide by an unspoken hierarchy. It's so stupid. We still exist underneath these costumes, no matter how much they want us to be automated robots.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Scaling Everest.
I climbed Mount Everest yesterday.
Well, Expedition Everest at Animal Kingdom. One of my managers, Chris, set up a walk-through tour of the ride before the park opened. Considering I got about four hours of sleep the night before, I had to peel myself from the comfort of my bed in order to get there on time. Taking an early bus at 5:30, we -- Vero, Kyle, Christina, and I-- arrived at the Animal Kingdom before the sun even began to think of cresting the sea. And guess who wasn't there when he said he would be? Oh, Manager Chris!
Other-Chris, a coke-stocker that looks like Clark Kent (and the one that helped me the night Jorge did the nice thing of unloading my cart), met us at the gates. It wasn't until 6:42 that the others came. Finally!
I've only ever seen Hollywood at closing time, empty, with but a few stragglers here and there as though they were caught in time. The music still plays, old 30s tunes, The Way You Look Tonight, as you trundle by with a dolly. It's beautiful to watch the spotlights swinging overhead, to see the big blue sorcerer's hat twinkle in the dark. Animal Kingdom is different. It was poignant with awakening life. The birds own the park, the apes are active in the predawn twilight. When the guests are away, the animals will play!
Going to Animal Kingdom made me remember why I love Disney as fervently as I do. There is a story behind every structure, every painting and prop, from the legend of the yeti to the tire tracks beneath your feet; it all means something. Bike tire tracks in the lower ring means people travel by bike, but as you approach Everest, the tracks change into yak tracks because they're better suited for the higher, steeper elevations. The stacks of wood on the roofs of shops aren't for burning, but to signify how wealthy the person that owns the business is. The more wood, the richer the business. Pictures of the wealthiest family hang in every 'shop,' and the bigger/clearer the picture is, the wealthier the owner is; this goes for the frame as well. It's astounding. After a while, I stopped thinking I was even in the U.S.; I whole-heartedly believed that I was in Anandapur. The atmosphere and thought put into everything is amazing.
Everything is also either authentic, was used, or is a direct replica. Most of the backpacks, ice picks, and tour things were used by the Imagineers that helped to build Everest.
Anyway, our tour of Everest was a walking one. Let me reiterate: we walked. Everest. That's about thirteen stories, lots of metal beams criss-crossing one another, but not touching 'because if they touched, Everest would crack and potentially collapse. It already has some hairline fractures from the vibrations." Safe-D begins with them! But seriously... Cam-- our guide-- told us that it takes so many tons of power to operate the Yeti (who was under major construction that day and was hidden behind a sheer net). The Yeti is MASSIVE! So big, in fact, that it can't leave the mountain now. It used to come down and swing its arm towards the train, but the spine in it broke and started spewing oil or some such thing. It looked like a giant puppet when they showed us.
So then they took us thirteen stories up, all the way to where the car meets the broken track and turns backwards.
Um, so Kyle offered to hold my hand up the steps and walked to my right, where there was no railing. He really is one of my BFFs, lol! I returned the favor and lead him around a locust.
Just chillin' on the step. Stoop-bug's afraid to leave the stoop!At one point, the tour guide asked me if I even wanted to follow down the steps, because they were steep there. As terrified as I am about heights, I can't pass up an opportunity like this. How many people get the chance to walk backstage, to tour the inside of a main attraction? So I sucked it up and put on my man pants. It was amazing... I did have Kyle take the pictures, though, just because I was afraid to let go of the hand rail, haha.
I was up here, you guys! Sooo scary!
But the adrenaline rush was worth it. It wasn't until I saw a bird wheel by at my shoulder that I realized how high up we were. It was exhilarating.
Cam and I! And my three layered tan....
I walked this!!!Afterward, we had got two ride-throughs of Everest: one with the lights off, and one with the lights. The beeest part of waking up, is Yeti in your cup!
Since I worked at 12:30 that day, I milked what hours I had left with my ODF family. ODFamily is what we call it... or, well, OUTDOOR FOOLS~ That's what ODF stands for. We rode Dinosaur and hung out in the giftshop, where we donned everything with a Mickey Premium on it. That's our main seller and the object of which I'm trying to collect! I have a pin and a purse with it and I'm currently looking for a Vinylmation with it....
And then we took pictures with a duckbill.
We're dinosaurs!!I love my ODF crew. I hope we have another backstage tour soon!!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Lungs.
It didn't bother me when we were talking. It didn't bother me when I walked back to the apartment, phone on my ear. It only bothered me when I sat down. When I stopped moving and reality caught up to me, it struck, and the smile that was on my face wilted quicker than a cala lily at a funeral. Why did you have to honk at me? Why did you have to step out of your car to talk? What compelled you-- our friendship? Maybe it'd be easier if we weren't friends, because when I asked you what you were doing, you said you were waiting for Her. And when we parted ways, I told you 'have fun.' I meant it, really.
Some people aren't ready for a girl like me. Serious isn't what they're looking for. I just can't help but wish - belatedly - that when you stooped to look, I was what you found.
I'll get over it eventually, right? But why is fate so conveniently funny? I had calculated: it'd be four days without seeing you. Did running into you today prove that I exist out of This One Place? I wonder if I disturbed your waters as much as you did mine.
What drives you to approach me anyway?
Oh well. Goodnight, moon.
Some people aren't ready for a girl like me. Serious isn't what they're looking for. I just can't help but wish - belatedly - that when you stooped to look, I was what you found.
I'll get over it eventually, right? But why is fate so conveniently funny? I had calculated: it'd be four days without seeing you. Did running into you today prove that I exist out of This One Place? I wonder if I disturbed your waters as much as you did mine.
What drives you to approach me anyway?
Oh well. Goodnight, moon.
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