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.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Discontent.
Work is work, and I'm always amazed with how people act and are. I'm feeling very reserved this morning... last night, I cried while going to sleep. I think it's the first time since I've been here that I truly felt the homesickness slam me hard, mostly because I miss the consistency of familial presence. I miss knowing people. Every day you find out new things, and they're things you don't want to know. Yesterday was the first time I'd ever wanted to leave work, the first day I wanted my break more than just to recoup, but to get away from the people-- to escape. People make my heart hurt and my stomach clinch. With all the joy they bring me, they also bring me such sadness. You hold people in such high esteem, and then... they show you a piece of them that strikes you like a splash of acid. And yet there are days when I can't love them any more than I do. Mami once asked me how my big heart even fits in my tiny body, and I... don't know. It's a blessing, I guess, to love and care so much, but sometimes holding onto your heart, trying to keep it from escaping and being tired from holding it aloft... caring so much tires me out, and it's not something I can stop. I bottle things up so much that I want to cry right now.
Life is tough.
Life is tough.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Destroying the magic.
For you, not me. So after much urging following my nonstop babbling over my obsession with Darth Maul, my friend Brittany got me to approach him again with some more questions. I am such a dork for the characters at the parks; I'm planning on going just to get pictures with them. I am, I must admit, particularly obsessed with one of the Mauls, though. Anyway, Brittany wanted me to propose to him, but I just asked when he was performing again (they always rotate). Alas, tomorrow is the last day until Star Wars weekend. Can you say depressing? I asked one of my managers if I could take a picture with the guy, but it's FORBIDDEN (-en, -en, -en... *echo*) to take pictures on the back dock. I can if I'm out of costume and come into work and he's not breaking character and it's not in an area that LOOKS like the back dock... so many rules. Also, whyyy can't my camera come in already! :(
I have so much respect for him, though-- honestly. He's always in character, keeping the magic alive-- even backstage. Next to Tigger and the Green Army Men, he's naturally my favorite.
Plus, he's also in the High School Musical 3 performance. Ohhh man, can you say hilarious? I'd love him to do a routine in the Maul outfit.
Some weird stuff has been going on. Not weird as in I'm creeped out weird, but weird as in head-tilting-like-a-bird's weird. My friend Densy is really fond of me, I think. I don't find it strange, but I am a little intrigued by it. Today, after I commented on a flower in the park, he gave me one and said "Una flor para una flor." Hm. Well, he's helping with my Spanish in any case. There's a Get Mikayla to Speak Spanish Coalition at work, started by Densy and jumped onto by my friend Juan. Jorge volunteered a while back, but I'm sure he's forgotten by now. Anyway, I'm glad for Densy. He's firm about getting me to learn and doesn't laugh when I mess up... just keeps trying.
Also, I'm apparently a prime scare-target! I'm really jumpy, so all of my male friends think it's hilarious to come up behind me and grab my sides or just touch my shoulder. Densy, Carlos, Luis, Jorge, Shaun-- ESPECIALLY Shaun! Oh my gosh, I've never been pinched and poked at so much in my life! Today, Shaun snuck up behind me and wrapped himself around my waist. I screamed so loud! He does stuff like that all the time because whenever someone pokes me, I squeak. Densy constantly makes me jump, Luis likes yelling when he walks into the room, Jorge's 'appeared' beside me several times... it never ends. Densy once told me - after he scared me - that he knew I was Latina from my scream. Hahaha, what?!
I work with crazy, crazy people.
I have so much respect for him, though-- honestly. He's always in character, keeping the magic alive-- even backstage. Next to Tigger and the Green Army Men, he's naturally my favorite.
Plus, he's also in the High School Musical 3 performance. Ohhh man, can you say hilarious? I'd love him to do a routine in the Maul outfit.
Some weird stuff has been going on. Not weird as in I'm creeped out weird, but weird as in head-tilting-like-a-bird's weird. My friend Densy is really fond of me, I think. I don't find it strange, but I am a little intrigued by it. Today, after I commented on a flower in the park, he gave me one and said "Una flor para una flor." Hm. Well, he's helping with my Spanish in any case. There's a Get Mikayla to Speak Spanish Coalition at work, started by Densy and jumped onto by my friend Juan. Jorge volunteered a while back, but I'm sure he's forgotten by now. Anyway, I'm glad for Densy. He's firm about getting me to learn and doesn't laugh when I mess up... just keeps trying.
Also, I'm apparently a prime scare-target! I'm really jumpy, so all of my male friends think it's hilarious to come up behind me and grab my sides or just touch my shoulder. Densy, Carlos, Luis, Jorge, Shaun-- ESPECIALLY Shaun! Oh my gosh, I've never been pinched and poked at so much in my life! Today, Shaun snuck up behind me and wrapped himself around my waist. I screamed so loud! He does stuff like that all the time because whenever someone pokes me, I squeak. Densy constantly makes me jump, Luis likes yelling when he walks into the room, Jorge's 'appeared' beside me several times... it never ends. Densy once told me - after he scared me - that he knew I was Latina from my scream. Hahaha, what?!
I work with crazy, crazy people.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Lull in the waves.
Happy Easter, everyone! Hope it's been good to you. I'm lazing around on my day off, though I should be doing laundry and dropping by Wal-Mart for some milk. I'm just not feeling Wal-Mart right now, though. The day is young yet!
I just narrowly survived the harrowing first week of Spring Break at work. It was... tough. Real tough. I don't know about the people in the stands, but I was stuck Backstage in the pretzel kitchen... the hellacious pretzel kitchen. They relocated it to Pizza Planet, where we have three different rooms: the prep room, the oven room, and then the freezer way back in Narnia. You'd think that the managers would have taken into consideration that the man usually positioned in pretzel kitchen has a bum leg, but do they? No. They're managers. Anyway, other than being enormous rooms, more to clean, and totally inconvenient, it went... went...
Well, I'm alive. That's saying something. I had two 13 hour day shifts in a row, and just about broke down on the second day from exhaustion after they extended me. I wanted to punch my managers. It seems that Spring Break is the only time they do any work, but also the time where they screw up schedules the most. I mean, who changes a schedule that goes into effect the next day when it's one of the busiest times of the year? How is that convenient-- or smart, for that matter? It's not. At all. Ugh. So basically, I had to come in an hour earlier my third day and stay two hours later when I had worked for 13 hours straight the day before. Thanks, guys. You all suck.
After my day off, which I spent napping and moving very little (as everything from my hips down was sore, sore, sore!), I went back to work in the Sunset zone (we have three zones, Sunset- the front of the park, Backlands- the... essential 'back' of the park [I like to think of it as the masculine area], and Icon- around the hat). I'm usually on Sunset, occasionally Icon, never Backlands. So anyway, I worked at Peevy's the entire day, a boring stand right next to Echo Lake with standing water that smells like a gerbil cage and cheetos fused. Sooo gross. I started missing the pretzel kitchen, which is borderline absurd. I was so happy when Densy came to close me. Oh, Densy, you crazy man, you. The first thing he did when he got to my stand wasn't to be an efficient closer, no. He came up behind me and undid my apron strings. Needless to say, I got him back by hurling a scoopful of ice at him when we got backstage. Closing Peevy's was fun-- not working there.
I did get to talk to a little boy that morning, though, who was waiting in line for Jedi Training Academy (my favorite show on the park; little kids get to fight Darth Vader). He asked me how old you had to be to be on 'this ride' and I knelt down and was like 'Well, how old are ya, buddy?' and he told me four, so I was like 'Perfect! You're old enough to learn how to use a lightsaber and fight Darth Vader-- you know he's been causing ALL sorts of trouble around here in Hollywood. We need a hero!' and he told me how he has two lightsabers at home and fights with his dad and how one was broken... so I told him he was a Jedi already and fighting Vader would be a piece of cake! It's so much fun talking to the little kids... when I left, I got to say 'May the force be with you!'
Dorky moments are the sweetest to me.
Speaking of Star Wars, the cool Darth Maul was out the other day. When it gets busy, they bring out him and Vader together to fight the kids. Three guys rotate playing Maul, two white guys and a black guy. The black guy is, by far, my favorite. He's a-MAY-zing! Whenever he's backstage, he's scowling and skulking around and looking particularly Maul-ish. While I was on break, I just had to ask him as he was walking by: Are you ALWAYS mad? Because you look really angry. He laughed at me and told me that no, he was just in character. Then he came over to talk after a bit and I told him he was really scary (in a good, convincing way) and he was like 'I've made kids cry before and run back into the crowd. It's great. I love being paid for it.' Ha ha ha, how awful! He was kind of cute, to be honest, but under all that paint, YOU NEVER KNOW!
The face only a mother could love. He's sort of hideous, right? Dental hygiene at it's worst. Anyway, I figure if I ever had the gumption to ask him out - which I won't, because I don't even KNOW him - that I would demand he wear his costume out on the town. Who wants to date a human? Not me!
That's a lie. I would happily date this one human if I wasn't such a wuss about liking said human. Oh well, I'll settle for being an awkward friend.
I should start getting ready for Wal-Mart. I have no milk and no milk = no coffee, therefore leading to dead mornings and angry Mikys. Darth Miky.
I just narrowly survived the harrowing first week of Spring Break at work. It was... tough. Real tough. I don't know about the people in the stands, but I was stuck Backstage in the pretzel kitchen... the hellacious pretzel kitchen. They relocated it to Pizza Planet, where we have three different rooms: the prep room, the oven room, and then the freezer way back in Narnia. You'd think that the managers would have taken into consideration that the man usually positioned in pretzel kitchen has a bum leg, but do they? No. They're managers. Anyway, other than being enormous rooms, more to clean, and totally inconvenient, it went... went...
Well, I'm alive. That's saying something. I had two 13 hour day shifts in a row, and just about broke down on the second day from exhaustion after they extended me. I wanted to punch my managers. It seems that Spring Break is the only time they do any work, but also the time where they screw up schedules the most. I mean, who changes a schedule that goes into effect the next day when it's one of the busiest times of the year? How is that convenient-- or smart, for that matter? It's not. At all. Ugh. So basically, I had to come in an hour earlier my third day and stay two hours later when I had worked for 13 hours straight the day before. Thanks, guys. You all suck.
After my day off, which I spent napping and moving very little (as everything from my hips down was sore, sore, sore!), I went back to work in the Sunset zone (we have three zones, Sunset- the front of the park, Backlands- the... essential 'back' of the park [I like to think of it as the masculine area], and Icon- around the hat). I'm usually on Sunset, occasionally Icon, never Backlands. So anyway, I worked at Peevy's the entire day, a boring stand right next to Echo Lake with standing water that smells like a gerbil cage and cheetos fused. Sooo gross. I started missing the pretzel kitchen, which is borderline absurd. I was so happy when Densy came to close me. Oh, Densy, you crazy man, you. The first thing he did when he got to my stand wasn't to be an efficient closer, no. He came up behind me and undid my apron strings. Needless to say, I got him back by hurling a scoopful of ice at him when we got backstage. Closing Peevy's was fun-- not working there.
I did get to talk to a little boy that morning, though, who was waiting in line for Jedi Training Academy (my favorite show on the park; little kids get to fight Darth Vader). He asked me how old you had to be to be on 'this ride' and I knelt down and was like 'Well, how old are ya, buddy?' and he told me four, so I was like 'Perfect! You're old enough to learn how to use a lightsaber and fight Darth Vader-- you know he's been causing ALL sorts of trouble around here in Hollywood. We need a hero!' and he told me how he has two lightsabers at home and fights with his dad and how one was broken... so I told him he was a Jedi already and fighting Vader would be a piece of cake! It's so much fun talking to the little kids... when I left, I got to say 'May the force be with you!'
Dorky moments are the sweetest to me.
Speaking of Star Wars, the cool Darth Maul was out the other day. When it gets busy, they bring out him and Vader together to fight the kids. Three guys rotate playing Maul, two white guys and a black guy. The black guy is, by far, my favorite. He's a-MAY-zing! Whenever he's backstage, he's scowling and skulking around and looking particularly Maul-ish. While I was on break, I just had to ask him as he was walking by: Are you ALWAYS mad? Because you look really angry. He laughed at me and told me that no, he was just in character. Then he came over to talk after a bit and I told him he was really scary (in a good, convincing way) and he was like 'I've made kids cry before and run back into the crowd. It's great. I love being paid for it.' Ha ha ha, how awful! He was kind of cute, to be honest, but under all that paint, YOU NEVER KNOW!
The face only a mother could love. He's sort of hideous, right? Dental hygiene at it's worst. Anyway, I figure if I ever had the gumption to ask him out - which I won't, because I don't even KNOW him - that I would demand he wear his costume out on the town. Who wants to date a human? Not me!That's a lie. I would happily date this one human if I wasn't such a wuss about liking said human. Oh well, I'll settle for being an awkward friend.
I should start getting ready for Wal-Mart. I have no milk and no milk = no coffee, therefore leading to dead mornings and angry Mikys. Darth Miky.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Hurdles.
My foot just snagged on one. Megan just told me she'll be leaving in May because she was accepted into this amazing internship with a huge pharmaceutical company. I'm happy for her, but-- I can't tell if my eyes are burning because I'm tired or because I want to cry. I just keep thinking about the future: coming home to an empty room and eating dinner by myself.
Now I am making myself cry. It'll be a moment before I can pick myself up again. She's my closest friend here, the one person I wouldn't go outside without. God has a plan for her, but I just wonder what He has in store for me.
I'm tired.
Now I am making myself cry. It'll be a moment before I can pick myself up again. She's my closest friend here, the one person I wouldn't go outside without. God has a plan for her, but I just wonder what He has in store for me.
I'm tired.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Moments.
I find it hard keeping up with this, can you tell? It's weird how easily a person can slip into routine. Where I hated my job just two or so weeks ago, I'm in love with it now. Isn't that bizarre? How quickly things change!
From getting into mock-battles with Green Army Men and guests, to dancing to High School Musical with a friend at a combo cart, I've been coming home every day anticipating the next time I go back. The people I thought loved their job from the get-go are beginning to hate it just as I am falling in love. Sometimes I hope the days go a little slower, because after registration last week, I realize that come fall, I'll be back in school, taking classes... and all the people I've met, the faces I've seen, the magical moments I've made, they'll be far away. ...and I'm only a month and a half in.
I've played peek-a-boo with adorable boys and girls, I've made a crying girl smile, a miserable man grateful on the worst birthday ever. As lame as it sounds, magic happens every day and I love it.
Living on my own is also clearing up some things between God and I. Not that there are any problems! But I'm growing more comfortable in my prayers, knowing that He'll give me what He thinks will be best towards my growth. Every day is a path lit up, ready for me to embark upon for that day's journey. He's also showing me how selfish we can be. Whenever things get tough, we pray and pray and pray, but when something good happens, we, like overeager children, think we are capable of walking on our own. Not so! Get to focused on one thing and we lose sight of who gave it to us in the first place. God comes first, always. After all:
In the beginning, God--
This blog has become more and more about my faith than I had originally intended, but that is not a problem. It just shows me all the more how much of a growing experience this is.
I'll start recounting what all has gone down within the next few days. Right now I'm exhausted. I'm turning in.
From getting into mock-battles with Green Army Men and guests, to dancing to High School Musical with a friend at a combo cart, I've been coming home every day anticipating the next time I go back. The people I thought loved their job from the get-go are beginning to hate it just as I am falling in love. Sometimes I hope the days go a little slower, because after registration last week, I realize that come fall, I'll be back in school, taking classes... and all the people I've met, the faces I've seen, the magical moments I've made, they'll be far away. ...and I'm only a month and a half in.
I've played peek-a-boo with adorable boys and girls, I've made a crying girl smile, a miserable man grateful on the worst birthday ever. As lame as it sounds, magic happens every day and I love it.
Living on my own is also clearing up some things between God and I. Not that there are any problems! But I'm growing more comfortable in my prayers, knowing that He'll give me what He thinks will be best towards my growth. Every day is a path lit up, ready for me to embark upon for that day's journey. He's also showing me how selfish we can be. Whenever things get tough, we pray and pray and pray, but when something good happens, we, like overeager children, think we are capable of walking on our own. Not so! Get to focused on one thing and we lose sight of who gave it to us in the first place. God comes first, always. After all:
In the beginning, God--
This blog has become more and more about my faith than I had originally intended, but that is not a problem. It just shows me all the more how much of a growing experience this is.
I'll start recounting what all has gone down within the next few days. Right now I'm exhausted. I'm turning in.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Too late to turn back now, Mateys!
I bought a Davy Jones pin that says just that.
That's sort of how I view this program. That I'm in too deep to really get out and that quitting will cause more harm than good. Preach it, Davy Jones, you be-tentacled captain, you!
The past two days have been rest and recoup days. My first break day, after another grueling, four hour class with Obi Wan (I think his real name is Scott-- the world will never know!), Megan and a group of us went to Downtown Disney to eat and watch Alice in Wonderland. Her excitement rang true in the memory of that outing-- I'd forgotten what it was like to wear real clothes, to get just a little dolled up to go hang out with friends. I've become so used to my lovely monkey suit, which admittedly, is cute, but... how can a girl forget what it's like to wear jeans and a cute tee? As Megan says, it's heinous. The weight of my massive hoop earrings were especially foreign. My hair down? Preposterous! But it happened.
It was raining, naturally, and the bus was late - again, naturally - but that didn't stop us from having fun. Four of us went to eat at T-rex (which has a ridiculous wait time of nearly 45 minutes), so we blew that popsicle stand and went to Planet Hollywood instead. VIP seating, anyone? It was packed. It honestly felt more like a club than a restaurant, and had the seating been missing, it definitely would have been. We ate faster than fire before zipping out to meet our fifth friend at the movies just across the way.
I did not think I was going to like Alice in Wonderland a bit. Considering my abhorrence for anything Tim Burton touches (okay, not so much abhorrence as my incredible eye-rolling towards his overrated-ness), I went in with low expectations... but this movie wasn't saturated in the depressing overtones that his movies are usually awash in, which was a definite change. A NICE change, in fact. I think this movie had the most light I'd seen since Edward Scissorhands! Anyway, I was won over by the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat... of course. The latter bore a remarkable resemblance to my favorite stuffed animal, Shugerpuff. Plus, kitties!
I recommend it-- that it should at least be seen when it comes out on DVD, if not in theatres. It was a lot of fun to watch. Plus, stories that involve going back to where one began are always a favorite for me. They never fail!
Yesterday was a bit of a nightmare. Since Megan and I took the day off our first break day, we had errands galore to get through the next. While she had to run to her costuming building at Animal Kingdom, I had to ready my Wal-Mart list and solve my checking card problems. Our goal was to hit up Casting Connections (which has Disney stuff for cheap and is where I got my Davy Jones pin), the UPS store, and Wally World. Doesn't sound like much, but believe me... we didn't get back 'til maybe 8 or so o'clock. Blame traffic and misdirection. Haroo!
That's sort of how I view this program. That I'm in too deep to really get out and that quitting will cause more harm than good. Preach it, Davy Jones, you be-tentacled captain, you!
The past two days have been rest and recoup days. My first break day, after another grueling, four hour class with Obi Wan (I think his real name is Scott-- the world will never know!), Megan and a group of us went to Downtown Disney to eat and watch Alice in Wonderland. Her excitement rang true in the memory of that outing-- I'd forgotten what it was like to wear real clothes, to get just a little dolled up to go hang out with friends. I've become so used to my lovely monkey suit, which admittedly, is cute, but... how can a girl forget what it's like to wear jeans and a cute tee? As Megan says, it's heinous. The weight of my massive hoop earrings were especially foreign. My hair down? Preposterous! But it happened.
It was raining, naturally, and the bus was late - again, naturally - but that didn't stop us from having fun. Four of us went to eat at T-rex (which has a ridiculous wait time of nearly 45 minutes), so we blew that popsicle stand and went to Planet Hollywood instead. VIP seating, anyone? It was packed. It honestly felt more like a club than a restaurant, and had the seating been missing, it definitely would have been. We ate faster than fire before zipping out to meet our fifth friend at the movies just across the way.
I did not think I was going to like Alice in Wonderland a bit. Considering my abhorrence for anything Tim Burton touches (okay, not so much abhorrence as my incredible eye-rolling towards his overrated-ness), I went in with low expectations... but this movie wasn't saturated in the depressing overtones that his movies are usually awash in, which was a definite change. A NICE change, in fact. I think this movie had the most light I'd seen since Edward Scissorhands! Anyway, I was won over by the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat... of course. The latter bore a remarkable resemblance to my favorite stuffed animal, Shugerpuff. Plus, kitties!
I recommend it-- that it should at least be seen when it comes out on DVD, if not in theatres. It was a lot of fun to watch. Plus, stories that involve going back to where one began are always a favorite for me. They never fail!
Yesterday was a bit of a nightmare. Since Megan and I took the day off our first break day, we had errands galore to get through the next. While she had to run to her costuming building at Animal Kingdom, I had to ready my Wal-Mart list and solve my checking card problems. Our goal was to hit up Casting Connections (which has Disney stuff for cheap and is where I got my Davy Jones pin), the UPS store, and Wally World. Doesn't sound like much, but believe me... we didn't get back 'til maybe 8 or so o'clock. Blame traffic and misdirection. Haroo!
I shall get back to this post when I get back from work! Lookout for updates!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
He works in mysterious ways.
It's been a while, hasn't it? Work has been rough, life, work-- same thing now. Things are running together, and as they run, I'm trying to walk against the deluge. By the way, it doesn't work. Fighting the waves is just as fruitless as it sounds, so I'm beginning to think that I should stop fighting. Not give up or give in, just... stop. See how long I last standing on my own two feet.
This past week was especially difficult for me. Tiny little failures keep building up to the point where I don't so much question my faith as I.. get frustrated. I have always wondered how people could "get mad at God" and have always been a firm believer of that idea that there's a rainbow after the rain, but when it rains, it truly does pour. I've been spiritually soaked this entire week and I don't know if I'm drying out or not.
When my family came to visit on Sunday, my plans didn't just fall through, they crashed. They collapsed in on themselves like a rice-paper scoop trying to hold a goldfish aloft. I don't even think I'm ready to talk about it, because the thought of it brings tears to my eyes still. It shouldn't, it's in the past, and I did have a good time with my mother and brother, but personal failures like that... they make me realize that trying to be an adult is a lot tougher than it looks. My mom was right, trying to work and play host at the same time is impossible.
I've run out of food at home, I've been staying late at work, I've had my early release requests denied. All week. But when I want to hate my job, when I'm on my last thread of sanity because I've been made to stay late, or I've seen my family from afar, enjoying the park, or when I begin to think about how I'll never get home, how all I'll have to do when I arrive at my apartment is throw a makeshift dinner together and go to bed... God throws a wrench in those plans of frustration. The anger I harbor ebbs, because He shows me something greater, and it always brings tears - of relief, of gratefulness - to my eyes.
While I may hate my job and complain about it, I can't say I hate the people I work with. I can't hate people. Ever. There is such a great, under-appreciated group of people working in Outdoor Foods. Under-appreciated by their peers and by themselves, I think.
I couldn't even form a coherent response, and it was only made worse when they followed up with 'and how long are they here for?' A day. A day is not enough for me, and I was completely denied even a day with them. It frustrates me how some people are so concerned about themselves. One of the guys I worked with Sunday was asked to stay late in my stead, and after saying 'no,' he grilled me on the 'why?' Why did I want to stay late? Family. Oh, how long are they here for? A day. I'm sorry. No you're not. I wanted to turn on him and tell him, no-- no, if you were sorry, you'd stay here for me. But did I? No. I stared out at Indy from where I was at Gertie's and waited to close that horrible place so I could cry. And I cried. I stood in there, power blasting the stupid ice cream machine and cried into the sink.
I know that Carlos, my zone coordinator, tried to get me an ER, but no one was biting. He tried, and that's all that mattered. I was grateful and in the end, he ended up tying up the loose ends of my job so that I could at least get out of work... even if it wasn't early. There was real sympathy in his eyes, and I appreciate that.
Though I don't want to talk about what happened after work, God did appear in the end of the night and with the laughter that ensued. I don't know if it was from tiredness, panic, or what-- but we laughed and laughed and laughed until we all fell asleep.
I had a rough day following the debacle that was Sunday. While I went into work with a high head, the day quickly wore on me. Whenever someone asked be about 'time with my family,' all I managed was a sad smile, tears just a step behind them. The only thing I really remember from that day is that I spoke with one of the full-timers, Karem; she's from Puerto Rico. And we just talked about food... and somehow, that made me happier. Sometimes I'm astounded with just how well God knows me. He knows just what to do to get a smile on my face and how to ease my suffering, just for a bit, even though He's putting me through some trials. I'm supposed to be learning a lesson here, I've come to realize. Karem was like a taste of home though, and the Lord knows how I love simply talking with people, getting to know them.
The next day was the same deal. It started out good. I had to open one of the kiosks and when getting my pretzels for my area, I got to talk to Luis, this older guy that usually works in the pretzel kitchen. He's intimidating, walks with a limp, seems to always be in a foul mood... but he's always sweet to me and seemed real concerned over my well-being. He's like an uncle, real gentle and calls me mami. For some reason, that made my day. My friend Carlos (a different one from the above mentioned-- this one's Portuguese) walked me out to my kiosk and helped me set up. That made me happy; I really like Carlos. The day was relatively unhurried. However, it soon got tiresome as the day progressed and my coordinator forgot that I needed a break. I saw Luis periodically throughout the day when he had to deliver pretzels, and we would chat for a bit, but after the fourth or so hour, my feet were beginning to give out on me. While it wasn't busy, I was getting tired. I finally got my break at 3:40 when I'd been in that kiosk since about 10:30 that morning.
Later, I had to close Icon Nut... which is fine, but I'm notoriously slow at counting bottles and cleaning. I thought I'd never get out of work at a decent hour. After doing my counts, I went to the kitchen to clean the pans for the stand and saw Luis again, and he walked me through where I would clean and whatnot. I like him a lot, I really, truly do. He's such a nice man. Anyway, when I was finally done with all of that, I practically ran back onstage to my kiosk so that I could clean...
...but when I got there, the light was on, and my coordinator, Cindy, was cleaning the area for me. It was done, all of it. I was so speechless, I could have cried. She turned and said: "Well, I saw you put in for an ER and didn't get it, so..."
Thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes. God was at it again. Little things, small kindnesses. He knows me too well.
Yesterday was tough again... just because it was long. I asked for an ER, planning on heading out early so I could go to Wal-Mart. I'm literally out of food. By 5:30, however, I realized I wasn't going to get it. I felt like my insides were wilting. I was so tired, so very tired that I couldn't even keep the corners of my mouth up in a smile. It's terrible, really. I'm an awful liar and I couldn't even feign happiness for our guests. I just wanted to go home. I had to close a combo cart, which included counting and restocking, which I abhor because I'm so slow at it. The guy that helped me close (I don't know his real name because he wears a nametag that says 'Craig -- Jamaica' and he's clearly Hispanic), he'd helped me close before, and I was under the impression he hated me. He looks so serious, so mean. As we were getting ready to go, I asked about a Petco coupon and headband someone left behind, told him I'd feel bad if we threw it away. He laughed and asked if I had a pet.
I said yeah, a dog, to which he responded that I could use the headband as a collar and just use the Petco discount card. I laughed and told him the sparkly, green headband wouldn't exactly fit around my 95 lbs. Doberman's neck. He was surprised I had a Doberman-- apparently that's his favorite kind of dog. He told me how his aunt had two, she had to put them down, then we headed out on our way backstage.
We met up with another stocker and the three of us moved our carts backstage. On our way there, 'Craig' asked if I knew how much stock goes in the cart, and I told him no, I hadn't memorized it yet and that I'd never get out of work on time because of it. He told me the numbers and then let me take my cart in first. And I made it past the corner without crashing! THAT was a feat! He humored me by telling me I deserved a fanatic card.
Well, anyway, I went into the office to return my money and sort through my cards, then I had to plug a bunch of undocumented spoils into the machine I'd been using. Ugh, time consuming. When I FINALLY got outside for reload, my cart was gone... and around the corner, 'Craig' and another guy were doing the counts for my soda and reloading for me. I ran over to help, not without being stunned to silence, of course, and tried to get some work in. After I'd parked the carts, we were walking back and Craig said 'See? And you said you wouldn't get out on time.'
It was something like 7:49 P.M. Let me tell you what a feat that is. When I close, I usually have to stay 45 extra minutes afterward because of how slow I am. I don't even know what to say....
Just when I want to hate where I work, God throws a wrench in my plans. Just when I want to give in and throw a tantrum, when I want to be mad at Him like a child, not understanding the sacrifice and the lessons that their parent is trying to teach them, wants to scream and stamp their feet, that parent kneels down on their level to coax them to silence. Like Daniel told me last night, you don't throw your anger at God, you throw it at His feet.
I drew a picture a while ago, of a girl lying on her face in a giant palm, and with it, I wrote:
This past week was especially difficult for me. Tiny little failures keep building up to the point where I don't so much question my faith as I.. get frustrated. I have always wondered how people could "get mad at God" and have always been a firm believer of that idea that there's a rainbow after the rain, but when it rains, it truly does pour. I've been spiritually soaked this entire week and I don't know if I'm drying out or not.
When my family came to visit on Sunday, my plans didn't just fall through, they crashed. They collapsed in on themselves like a rice-paper scoop trying to hold a goldfish aloft. I don't even think I'm ready to talk about it, because the thought of it brings tears to my eyes still. It shouldn't, it's in the past, and I did have a good time with my mother and brother, but personal failures like that... they make me realize that trying to be an adult is a lot tougher than it looks. My mom was right, trying to work and play host at the same time is impossible.
I've run out of food at home, I've been staying late at work, I've had my early release requests denied. All week. But when I want to hate my job, when I'm on my last thread of sanity because I've been made to stay late, or I've seen my family from afar, enjoying the park, or when I begin to think about how I'll never get home, how all I'll have to do when I arrive at my apartment is throw a makeshift dinner together and go to bed... God throws a wrench in those plans of frustration. The anger I harbor ebbs, because He shows me something greater, and it always brings tears - of relief, of gratefulness - to my eyes.
While I may hate my job and complain about it, I can't say I hate the people I work with. I can't hate people. Ever. There is such a great, under-appreciated group of people working in Outdoor Foods. Under-appreciated by their peers and by themselves, I think.
I couldn't even form a coherent response, and it was only made worse when they followed up with 'and how long are they here for?' A day. A day is not enough for me, and I was completely denied even a day with them. It frustrates me how some people are so concerned about themselves. One of the guys I worked with Sunday was asked to stay late in my stead, and after saying 'no,' he grilled me on the 'why?' Why did I want to stay late? Family. Oh, how long are they here for? A day. I'm sorry. No you're not. I wanted to turn on him and tell him, no-- no, if you were sorry, you'd stay here for me. But did I? No. I stared out at Indy from where I was at Gertie's and waited to close that horrible place so I could cry. And I cried. I stood in there, power blasting the stupid ice cream machine and cried into the sink.
I know that Carlos, my zone coordinator, tried to get me an ER, but no one was biting. He tried, and that's all that mattered. I was grateful and in the end, he ended up tying up the loose ends of my job so that I could at least get out of work... even if it wasn't early. There was real sympathy in his eyes, and I appreciate that.
Though I don't want to talk about what happened after work, God did appear in the end of the night and with the laughter that ensued. I don't know if it was from tiredness, panic, or what-- but we laughed and laughed and laughed until we all fell asleep.
I had a rough day following the debacle that was Sunday. While I went into work with a high head, the day quickly wore on me. Whenever someone asked be about 'time with my family,' all I managed was a sad smile, tears just a step behind them. The only thing I really remember from that day is that I spoke with one of the full-timers, Karem; she's from Puerto Rico. And we just talked about food... and somehow, that made me happier. Sometimes I'm astounded with just how well God knows me. He knows just what to do to get a smile on my face and how to ease my suffering, just for a bit, even though He's putting me through some trials. I'm supposed to be learning a lesson here, I've come to realize. Karem was like a taste of home though, and the Lord knows how I love simply talking with people, getting to know them.
The next day was the same deal. It started out good. I had to open one of the kiosks and when getting my pretzels for my area, I got to talk to Luis, this older guy that usually works in the pretzel kitchen. He's intimidating, walks with a limp, seems to always be in a foul mood... but he's always sweet to me and seemed real concerned over my well-being. He's like an uncle, real gentle and calls me mami. For some reason, that made my day. My friend Carlos (a different one from the above mentioned-- this one's Portuguese) walked me out to my kiosk and helped me set up. That made me happy; I really like Carlos. The day was relatively unhurried. However, it soon got tiresome as the day progressed and my coordinator forgot that I needed a break. I saw Luis periodically throughout the day when he had to deliver pretzels, and we would chat for a bit, but after the fourth or so hour, my feet were beginning to give out on me. While it wasn't busy, I was getting tired. I finally got my break at 3:40 when I'd been in that kiosk since about 10:30 that morning.
Later, I had to close Icon Nut... which is fine, but I'm notoriously slow at counting bottles and cleaning. I thought I'd never get out of work at a decent hour. After doing my counts, I went to the kitchen to clean the pans for the stand and saw Luis again, and he walked me through where I would clean and whatnot. I like him a lot, I really, truly do. He's such a nice man. Anyway, when I was finally done with all of that, I practically ran back onstage to my kiosk so that I could clean...
...but when I got there, the light was on, and my coordinator, Cindy, was cleaning the area for me. It was done, all of it. I was so speechless, I could have cried. She turned and said: "Well, I saw you put in for an ER and didn't get it, so..."
Thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes. God was at it again. Little things, small kindnesses. He knows me too well.
Yesterday was tough again... just because it was long. I asked for an ER, planning on heading out early so I could go to Wal-Mart. I'm literally out of food. By 5:30, however, I realized I wasn't going to get it. I felt like my insides were wilting. I was so tired, so very tired that I couldn't even keep the corners of my mouth up in a smile. It's terrible, really. I'm an awful liar and I couldn't even feign happiness for our guests. I just wanted to go home. I had to close a combo cart, which included counting and restocking, which I abhor because I'm so slow at it. The guy that helped me close (I don't know his real name because he wears a nametag that says 'Craig -- Jamaica' and he's clearly Hispanic), he'd helped me close before, and I was under the impression he hated me. He looks so serious, so mean. As we were getting ready to go, I asked about a Petco coupon and headband someone left behind, told him I'd feel bad if we threw it away. He laughed and asked if I had a pet.
I said yeah, a dog, to which he responded that I could use the headband as a collar and just use the Petco discount card. I laughed and told him the sparkly, green headband wouldn't exactly fit around my 95 lbs. Doberman's neck. He was surprised I had a Doberman-- apparently that's his favorite kind of dog. He told me how his aunt had two, she had to put them down, then we headed out on our way backstage.
We met up with another stocker and the three of us moved our carts backstage. On our way there, 'Craig' asked if I knew how much stock goes in the cart, and I told him no, I hadn't memorized it yet and that I'd never get out of work on time because of it. He told me the numbers and then let me take my cart in first. And I made it past the corner without crashing! THAT was a feat! He humored me by telling me I deserved a fanatic card.
Well, anyway, I went into the office to return my money and sort through my cards, then I had to plug a bunch of undocumented spoils into the machine I'd been using. Ugh, time consuming. When I FINALLY got outside for reload, my cart was gone... and around the corner, 'Craig' and another guy were doing the counts for my soda and reloading for me. I ran over to help, not without being stunned to silence, of course, and tried to get some work in. After I'd parked the carts, we were walking back and Craig said 'See? And you said you wouldn't get out on time.'
It was something like 7:49 P.M. Let me tell you what a feat that is. When I close, I usually have to stay 45 extra minutes afterward because of how slow I am. I don't even know what to say....
Just when I want to hate where I work, God throws a wrench in my plans. Just when I want to give in and throw a tantrum, when I want to be mad at Him like a child, not understanding the sacrifice and the lessons that their parent is trying to teach them, wants to scream and stamp their feet, that parent kneels down on their level to coax them to silence. Like Daniel told me last night, you don't throw your anger at God, you throw it at His feet.
I drew a picture a while ago, of a girl lying on her face in a giant palm, and with it, I wrote:
She falls-- but there is no bottom. When she hits those open palms, warmer than love itself, she will sleep until she is strong again.
And she is strong because He gives her strength. He will hold her in His palms until she is strong enough to get up again, and even when she does get up, His hand, His arm is there to hold her up-- just in case.
I have lessons to learn and they're tough, but I know I can get through these trials.
I have lessons to learn and they're tough, but I know I can get through these trials.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The great grilled cheese caper (and other stories!).
A picture of my awesome roomie, Megan and I, wearing reversable/matching hats from our visit to Animal Kingdom. Thought I'd open up with a creepy picture to challenge your intestinal fortitude. Enjoy!
Boy, do I have a couple of non-work stories to tell YOU!
Now, don't panic. I decided to wait a day to recount these little tales of wonder because I know my family would freak out otherwise-- you know, if I told you the day of. Heck, they might even freak out now (I imagine some of you in your cubicles, about to shake your heads in collective shame, wondering why your daughter/cousin/friend is such a moron). What is it that Megan says, "That was a good life choice"? Well, this is a BAD life choice!
I spent the entire day yesterday, vegging in my pajamas, like most of my family knows me. Megan was at work most of the day, and came home late, but when she did, she decided she was going to walk to the outlet mall nearby and buy a new pair of boots for work (as the ones she got from Wal-Mart were not working out). So, believing whole-heartedly in the buddy system that both my mom and dad ingrained in me, I volunteered to go along. The outlet malls are maybe a ten minute walk away, no big. However, we left in the evening. We had no idea it was going to be a super-sketchy trek to Timberland. We thought that by cutting through a parking garage, we'd arrive there faster... but I reminded Megan of what usually occurs in the parking garages and we decided to cut through a parking lot instead.
Let me just say, we are never leaving the apartment after 6 P.M. ever again.
Sketchville, USA. It's like the few cars in the parking lot decided, in synchronization, to turn on all at once. We were honestly convinced that a drug-deal was going on in there and we were going to get whacked. The funny thing about it - other than practically jogging to the outlet mall the rest of the way - is that on our way back (after saying a quick prayer), we decided to cut through a church yard instead, thinking it'd be safer. That's when I figured the people in the parking lot must have been coming out of church. Makes sense, right? I'm so smart. I felt really guilty afterward, assuming what I had assumed. But hey, two girls in one empty, dark lot? Scary, all right? Needless to say, the sign that said 'CHATHAM' got a big, huge hug.
However, the adventure doesn't end there! We were scrounging around the kitchen, trying to decide what to make. I thought about cooking chicken, but let Megan have the stove first since she was going to make some grilled cheese. I don't even know how to describe what happened next.
After tearing some impressive holes in the bread while spreading margarine, she set the pan on the stove on 'HIGH', which we both thought would be okay. Then, she tossed the bread onto the pan and POOF! Smoke everywhere. It was like a ninja was escaping the kitchen under his patented veil of secrecy. We panicked so bad we thought the stove was going to explode and we were going to set the sprinklers off. We both grabbed all the towels we could and windmilled around the kitchen, trying to clear the smoke, and Megan quickly turned off the stove and moved the skillet to an unused burner. The smoke was so dense! Deciding it was too hot in the apartment and really scared that the continuous billow of smoke was going to set the alarm off, Megan went outside with the pan and threw the toast-- or what was left of it-- on the ground.
Proof, see? Doesn't it look like someone took a sharpie and drew on the concrete AND the pan? I decided not to cook chicken after that and made a nice tuna sandwich instead. And Meg? She had microwavable chicken nuggets. Muuuch safer!
Boy, do I have a couple of non-work stories to tell YOU!
Now, don't panic. I decided to wait a day to recount these little tales of wonder because I know my family would freak out otherwise-- you know, if I told you the day of. Heck, they might even freak out now (I imagine some of you in your cubicles, about to shake your heads in collective shame, wondering why your daughter/cousin/friend is such a moron). What is it that Megan says, "That was a good life choice"? Well, this is a BAD life choice!
I spent the entire day yesterday, vegging in my pajamas, like most of my family knows me. Megan was at work most of the day, and came home late, but when she did, she decided she was going to walk to the outlet mall nearby and buy a new pair of boots for work (as the ones she got from Wal-Mart were not working out). So, believing whole-heartedly in the buddy system that both my mom and dad ingrained in me, I volunteered to go along. The outlet malls are maybe a ten minute walk away, no big. However, we left in the evening. We had no idea it was going to be a super-sketchy trek to Timberland. We thought that by cutting through a parking garage, we'd arrive there faster... but I reminded Megan of what usually occurs in the parking garages and we decided to cut through a parking lot instead.
Let me just say, we are never leaving the apartment after 6 P.M. ever again.
Sketchville, USA. It's like the few cars in the parking lot decided, in synchronization, to turn on all at once. We were honestly convinced that a drug-deal was going on in there and we were going to get whacked. The funny thing about it - other than practically jogging to the outlet mall the rest of the way - is that on our way back (after saying a quick prayer), we decided to cut through a church yard instead, thinking it'd be safer. That's when I figured the people in the parking lot must have been coming out of church. Makes sense, right? I'm so smart. I felt really guilty afterward, assuming what I had assumed. But hey, two girls in one empty, dark lot? Scary, all right? Needless to say, the sign that said 'CHATHAM' got a big, huge hug.
However, the adventure doesn't end there! We were scrounging around the kitchen, trying to decide what to make. I thought about cooking chicken, but let Megan have the stove first since she was going to make some grilled cheese. I don't even know how to describe what happened next.
After tearing some impressive holes in the bread while spreading margarine, she set the pan on the stove on 'HIGH', which we both thought would be okay. Then, she tossed the bread onto the pan and POOF! Smoke everywhere. It was like a ninja was escaping the kitchen under his patented veil of secrecy. We panicked so bad we thought the stove was going to explode and we were going to set the sprinklers off. We both grabbed all the towels we could and windmilled around the kitchen, trying to clear the smoke, and Megan quickly turned off the stove and moved the skillet to an unused burner. The smoke was so dense! Deciding it was too hot in the apartment and really scared that the continuous billow of smoke was going to set the alarm off, Megan went outside with the pan and threw the toast-- or what was left of it-- on the ground.
Proof, see? Doesn't it look like someone took a sharpie and drew on the concrete AND the pan? I decided not to cook chicken after that and made a nice tuna sandwich instead. And Meg? She had microwavable chicken nuggets. Muuuch safer!Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Praise be! I'm not Megan Fox and other stories.
My schedule has been righted! I got a call this morning telling me that I would have tomorrow off and that subsequent Thursdays would be my day off. Yay! This is me releasing a big sigh of relief.
So last night I found out my roommate has a bun in the oven. Not Meg, but one of the girls that lives in the room next to us. She just waltzed into the kitchen last night and said 'So I'm pregnant.' My ever-articulate response was to look up, blink, and ask 'You're getting a new apartment?'
I didn't hear her, honest.
It's difficult to act surprised when Gaby (my other awesome roomie) had told me that she had something cooking in there. What's the appropriate response to finding out about a pregnancy, anyway? I mean, congratulations are in order when it's family, but when it's a girl you barely know who's barely older than you? What the heck are you supposed to say? "Umm, cool. Don't pick up heavy objects?" I nearly told her that too. I mean, it sort of doesn't make sense. She's working at one of the resorts and that she doesn't like kids... sooo, she's never heard of a condom (man, am I being mean or what? Yikes!)? At least she said she got excited after the initial surprise of, oops! there's a baby in me! And her boyfriend is supportive, so that's good. I wish her the best, I really, really do.
If you read An amalgamation of training hell (especially the bit on the Icon Nut), then you know that I had to work overtime to serve a bunch of rowdy, 15-year-old New Yorkers. Other than being a barrel of monkeys, there was something I forgot to mention. One of the boys, the loudest, most obnoxious, and clearly the most New York (I kid, I kid) of the bunch pointed out my name-tag at one point and said 'Mikayla! Like Megan Fox's character in Transformers.' I died a little on the inside. Instead, I sort of scoffed and rolled my eyes and told him, 'Yeah, I know. It's unfortunate.'
And he, of course, responds with, 'WHAT, WHY?! MEGAN FOX IS HOT!'
Yeah, if you find trampy, talentless hacks hot, then I guess so... ? I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat or whatever. I'm not judging (or am I?). I forgave him and blamed his ignorance on raging hormones and told him that I didn't like sharing a name with a girl whose IQ is somewhere between a brick and a house plant. I've made a habit of shutting people down lately, but luckily I managed to divert the topic of conversation from discussing any similarities I might share with the Wonder Woman-hating bimbo to different ways of telling people they were morons. 'Dumb as a box of rocks, dense as brick, dumb as a pole...'
The Icon Nut was a lot better than Pretzel hell, I have to admit. We had a couple of magical moments there, including that last, insane, free-nut spree with the marching band kids. I mean, one of them even squeezed into the stand to shake our hands. They were pretty chill. I do have to wonder, though, when I make quips like the one about Megan Fox, or when I make fun of someone's opinion, is it going to stick with them or do they brush it off? I don't know which I prefer. Sending that boy home with the idea that there is a girl working at Hollywood Studios who is kind of a Mean Girl, or if he went home, watched some E! or VH1, saw something of Megan Fox, and will inevitably think back to HS and think to himself, "Yeah, she kind of is a moron." I like to think I saved his terrible sense of taste and he is slowly going through a metamorphosis.
...Ha ha ha!
Speaking of guys with weird tastes, one of the guys here on the program keeps hounding me. I hang out with him occasionally in our collective group (usually with Megan and another guy, Tom), but only ever as a platonic group of friends. Yet somehow, the day after we legitimately met, he decided I was The One (and not like Neo). Ever since then, he's been texting me nonstop, dropping hints, even when I shut him down when we were in class. I pretty much told him at the table (in the company of three other girls) that I did NOT come to college looking for a relationship and that's the last thing I wanted on this program. End of discussion. I told them all that I thought Valentine's day was the most commercial holiday (mostly out of my ire in light of Wal-Mart) and pretty much set my foot down when it came to romance (at least for now. Mami is probably like 'NOOO, I WANT GRANDBABIES!'). I mean, it wasn't so bad, really, until he invited himself over.
I slept in on Sunday, and yet I get this text at 8 in the morning asking if I was around. I answered at around 11 saying, yeah, I was, but Megan and the girls weren't. He said cool, (and I quote) 'Me, Chris, and Tom are coming over there in a bit.' Um, what? I texted back 'Over where??' and he responds with 'Ur place lol.' Lol, indeed! Lol my butt. I was definitely not amused. So I told him that he can drop by whenever he so pleased, but that I was not guaranteeing that I'd let him in. After all, I don't invite people into my home who invite themselves over. That's not how wooing works. Maybe in the 1800s, but not now. And with that said, I did not do/say anything that implied any interest. I assure you, his delusions were self made.
So guess who invited himself over at around noon? I told Gaby not to open the door. Megan later asked if I saw Charles that day. I told her, 'Yeah, I did. Through the peephole.'
How the heck do you handle something/one like that without hurting their feelings? If I said half the things that crossed my mind, my foot would be so far in my mouth, I'd be digesting it. Unfortunately, I've been getting to the point where I just want to be straight with people. I hate sugar-coating things for your pleasure. No. If you're being dumb, I want to tell you you're being dumb. I'm hoping one day I'll just get tired of the social norm (being too nice), crack, and just shuck that skin. I'd rather be straight-up with a person than pussy-foot in telling them they're being a real dipstick.
All right, that's enough of my ranting, right? I hope so!
The girls and I had pancakes for dinner the other night.
That was fun. I made nine massive pancakes, put them in a stack, and set them (and the table) for a big dinner. We actually just made them for Meg, Gaby, and I, but eventually Stephanie and Elisha came out too. It was nice. We all sat down at our Thanksgiving Table (that's what we call it, it's so big!) and ate while watching She's the Man. Suuuch a cute movie, and Vinnie Jones is in it-- so worth it. Now I want to impersonate a guy and see if I could pull it off. Probably not... but it'd be worth trying. Then maybe I could take a peek into guys' heads!
On second thought, I'd rather not. Well, I'm heading out now! I'll update a little later! <3>
So last night I found out my roommate has a bun in the oven. Not Meg, but one of the girls that lives in the room next to us. She just waltzed into the kitchen last night and said 'So I'm pregnant.' My ever-articulate response was to look up, blink, and ask 'You're getting a new apartment?'
I didn't hear her, honest.
It's difficult to act surprised when Gaby (my other awesome roomie) had told me that she had something cooking in there. What's the appropriate response to finding out about a pregnancy, anyway? I mean, congratulations are in order when it's family, but when it's a girl you barely know who's barely older than you? What the heck are you supposed to say? "Umm, cool. Don't pick up heavy objects?" I nearly told her that too. I mean, it sort of doesn't make sense. She's working at one of the resorts and that she doesn't like kids... sooo, she's never heard of a condom (man, am I being mean or what? Yikes!)? At least she said she got excited after the initial surprise of, oops! there's a baby in me! And her boyfriend is supportive, so that's good. I wish her the best, I really, really do.
If you read An amalgamation of training hell (especially the bit on the Icon Nut), then you know that I had to work overtime to serve a bunch of rowdy, 15-year-old New Yorkers. Other than being a barrel of monkeys, there was something I forgot to mention. One of the boys, the loudest, most obnoxious, and clearly the most New York (I kid, I kid) of the bunch pointed out my name-tag at one point and said 'Mikayla! Like Megan Fox's character in Transformers.' I died a little on the inside. Instead, I sort of scoffed and rolled my eyes and told him, 'Yeah, I know. It's unfortunate.'
And he, of course, responds with, 'WHAT, WHY?! MEGAN FOX IS HOT!'
Yeah, if you find trampy, talentless hacks hot, then I guess so... ? I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat or whatever. I'm not judging (or am I?). I forgave him and blamed his ignorance on raging hormones and told him that I didn't like sharing a name with a girl whose IQ is somewhere between a brick and a house plant. I've made a habit of shutting people down lately, but luckily I managed to divert the topic of conversation from discussing any similarities I might share with the Wonder Woman-hating bimbo to different ways of telling people they were morons. 'Dumb as a box of rocks, dense as brick, dumb as a pole...'
The Icon Nut was a lot better than Pretzel hell, I have to admit. We had a couple of magical moments there, including that last, insane, free-nut spree with the marching band kids. I mean, one of them even squeezed into the stand to shake our hands. They were pretty chill. I do have to wonder, though, when I make quips like the one about Megan Fox, or when I make fun of someone's opinion, is it going to stick with them or do they brush it off? I don't know which I prefer. Sending that boy home with the idea that there is a girl working at Hollywood Studios who is kind of a Mean Girl, or if he went home, watched some E! or VH1, saw something of Megan Fox, and will inevitably think back to HS and think to himself, "Yeah, she kind of is a moron." I like to think I saved his terrible sense of taste and he is slowly going through a metamorphosis.
...Ha ha ha!
Speaking of guys with weird tastes, one of the guys here on the program keeps hounding me. I hang out with him occasionally in our collective group (usually with Megan and another guy, Tom), but only ever as a platonic group of friends. Yet somehow, the day after we legitimately met, he decided I was The One (and not like Neo). Ever since then, he's been texting me nonstop, dropping hints, even when I shut him down when we were in class. I pretty much told him at the table (in the company of three other girls) that I did NOT come to college looking for a relationship and that's the last thing I wanted on this program. End of discussion. I told them all that I thought Valentine's day was the most commercial holiday (mostly out of my ire in light of Wal-Mart) and pretty much set my foot down when it came to romance (at least for now. Mami is probably like 'NOOO, I WANT GRANDBABIES!'). I mean, it wasn't so bad, really, until he invited himself over.
I slept in on Sunday, and yet I get this text at 8 in the morning asking if I was around. I answered at around 11 saying, yeah, I was, but Megan and the girls weren't. He said cool, (and I quote) 'Me, Chris, and Tom are coming over there in a bit.' Um, what? I texted back 'Over where??' and he responds with 'Ur place lol.' Lol, indeed! Lol my butt. I was definitely not amused. So I told him that he can drop by whenever he so pleased, but that I was not guaranteeing that I'd let him in. After all, I don't invite people into my home who invite themselves over. That's not how wooing works. Maybe in the 1800s, but not now. And with that said, I did not do/say anything that implied any interest. I assure you, his delusions were self made.
So guess who invited himself over at around noon? I told Gaby not to open the door. Megan later asked if I saw Charles that day. I told her, 'Yeah, I did. Through the peephole.'
How the heck do you handle something/one like that without hurting their feelings? If I said half the things that crossed my mind, my foot would be so far in my mouth, I'd be digesting it. Unfortunately, I've been getting to the point where I just want to be straight with people. I hate sugar-coating things for your pleasure. No. If you're being dumb, I want to tell you you're being dumb. I'm hoping one day I'll just get tired of the social norm (being too nice), crack, and just shuck that skin. I'd rather be straight-up with a person than pussy-foot in telling them they're being a real dipstick.
All right, that's enough of my ranting, right? I hope so!
The girls and I had pancakes for dinner the other night.
That was fun. I made nine massive pancakes, put them in a stack, and set them (and the table) for a big dinner. We actually just made them for Meg, Gaby, and I, but eventually Stephanie and Elisha came out too. It was nice. We all sat down at our Thanksgiving Table (that's what we call it, it's so big!) and ate while watching She's the Man. Suuuch a cute movie, and Vinnie Jones is in it-- so worth it. Now I want to impersonate a guy and see if I could pull it off. Probably not... but it'd be worth trying. Then maybe I could take a peek into guys' heads!
On second thought, I'd rather not. Well, I'm heading out now! I'll update a little later! <3>
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Eye is on the mouseketeer and I know he watches me.
I lucked out. It's not even luck really, more like The Big Guy Up Top really looking out for me. I have a fabulous roommate, Megan, and really chill apartment-mates. Really, what are the chances that the person I would be sharing my room with would be in love with Disney, cry during every animated movie she watched, was best friends with her sibling, and had the same sense of humor as me? And! is as big a Harry Potter geek as I am with Wonder Woman and Predator. Now that is something special.
I am, again, really tired as I write this... and staring at the sad block of uncooked rice on my plate (that I'm pretending is pegao). A half failed dinner on that part-- my chicken came out ace, though, and I have none other than my pops to thank for that. Next time I won't be so gung-ho about with the Adobo, though.
Anyway! I know my family doesn't drop by here to read about what I'm having for dinner (or maybe they do, just to make sure I'm eating). Just what! have I been up to?
I'm a little mad at Disney, to be honest. I mean, not every aspect, but with the working aspect. I understand customer service, but the scheduling hours for my work weeks don't jive well with me. I'm not a huge fan of having to work late one day and then having to work early the next day. I clocked five hours of sleep last night. Not only that, but they haven't fixed my schedule and I spoke to three people about it already. With a full-time job and a four hour lecture class, this is unnecessary stress. I was told by one manager that it would be taken care of and I would just need to check my schedule the day following, only to be told by another manager that 'it didn't work' followed by 'go back to Stephanie while I figure this out.' I always jump to worst case scenario, but really? Class comes before work. I'm not going to skip class to work, that's ridiculous.
Now, I completely understand that I signed up late (a lot of people did), but they were supposed to work our class schedule around our work schedule and vice versa. I made a call to the education office and was told that I would be called back after 'I'll see what I can do.' I waited until eight, periodically checked The Hub, and got nothing. Now that entire portion of the site will be down at 6 A.M., when I planned on waking up to check it (JUST IN CASE). I refuse to miss my second day of class though! Ugh, stress.
THAT aside, before classes and work started, Megan, Charles (a boy from my uni), and I went exploring. Let me tell you, the World of Disney store is massive and yet managed to have absolutely nothing I wanted to buy. Okay, so I very nearly bought a stuffed animal of Lady, but I refrained. I'm on the hunt for Dug from the movie Up as it is. Walking around downtown Disney was a lot more fun when you're people watching. The couples and kids milling around with their families is much more appealing. Everything is lit up like a tiny park, and they had music playing over multiple speakers. Charles managed to drag me into a miniature competition taking place in the square with a bunch of half-sober adults and their kids. Two lines, linked hands, and hula hoops that we all had to shimmy ourselves out of. I think the best part of that was just losing-- we had to do the chicken dance, and after a while of wacky dancing, the kids joined in, and there was this adorable little girl watching me to see what the next moves were.
There is just magic when a kid is literally looking up to you to mimic your movements. It's beyond endearing and it just reminded me why I accepted this job down here away from my family and friends in the first place. Tiny moments like that. The little girl might not remember it down the road, but I will remember her.
My class opened up in the most awesome manner as well. I don't even know my professor's name! He insists that we call him Obi Wan, and continually refers to himself as such (I just asked Megan if she remembered and she just stared and said 'Could be Stewart? Or I could have just made that up'). He tells wonderful stories, and manages to keep my attention without even trying. A definite plus and another reason I am determined not to miss the class! Come on, Disney, do your job!
On Saturday, we (Megan, Justin, TJ, and I) went to Animal Kingdom after my park orientation. Megan was DETERMINED that I ride Everest and Dinosaur, the latter of which I realized I had ridden upon approaching it. Megan, by the way, practically lives at Disney. It's like her family's go-to spot for vacation, so she's the WDW pro. It's pretty sweet.
So, right, both rides were fantastic. Dinosaur for opening up with Mrs. Cosby, and Everest for the phenomenal set-up. Disney puts a lot of care into the making of its park rides. However, I have to admit, seeing as Everest goes forwards and backwards, beware. We were all really light-headed after the ride, so I'm not sure I would ride it again. It's weird how we were at the park for maybe four hours and only rode two rides. Buuut! We also stood in line to meet characters, so that may have been another part of it.
Speaking of characters, that 100 Acre Woods... what ARE they putting in their water? Megan and I got really excited when we saw Tigger from on the bridge, so we headed over there with TJ and Justin, determined to meet them. Just as we were taking the little walkway to get to the meeting place, Eeyore and Tigger were leaving. I stopped them both for a hug before they got too far. Pooh Bear was up ahead (he's Meg's favorite), so we stopped to snap some pictures with him (which are forthcoming, I promise!). Most lethargic Pooh ever, actually. They probably didn't give him honey.
Eeyore and Tigger came back, though. I was super stoked for that. Eeyore actually waltzed with Megan, which was super adorable. They were so animated! When I went up to him [Eeyore] next, he pretended to be shy before hugging me... and then grabbing my hand and smooching his way up my arm to my shoulder! I was so stunned all I could do was laugh and bark, "Eeyore, I thought you were shy!" His response? A big shake of his head before falling to one knee and proposing to me.
I would like you all to know that as of Saturday, February 13, 2010, I am engaged to a manic-depressive donkey with a removable tail. The wedding'll be in September.
After all THAT craziness, I moved over to take pictures with Tigger. He was much more chill, hugging me tight, but as the group moved to leave, he motioned 'call me' with his paw. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. What are they putting in the water at the 100 Acre Woods? My theory is that they were just happy to see people above the age of 12-- I don't think Christopher Robin cuts it. Yikes!
We also stopped to say hi to Goofy and Pluto. So totally worth it! I think Goofy is my favorite from the original cast-- he's so... okay, so saying 'goofy' is utterly redundant, but it's late and I can't think of anything witty. Pluto had me scratch his nose and he kicked his leg out like I was itching his sweet spot; it was so cute! And Goofy, holy cow, we got into a hugging war. He nearly crushed my ribs! It was awesome! I realized that in meeting the characters, that's what made visiting the parks for me. Characters transcend costume. When you get coddled by Pluto or hugged and kissed by Mickey, it isn't a cast-member in a suit, it's the character showing you affection. I honestly can't see past 'Pluto' or 'Goofy' or 'Tigger.' In the end, it brought out an excitement and giddiness I haven't felt since I first saw Pluto step out into Mickey's Toontown in Disneyland so many years ago.
I have pictures of all of this, swear, but I keep forgetting to tell Meg to give me her log-in to her Photopass account.
Anyway, this is it for tonight. I'm exhausted! I'll see what I can remember for tomorrow. I'll be posting my work summary next~
P.S. I'm used to the buses zooming by outside. Now, if I could get that guy with the leaf-blower to cut it out at 8 in the morning....
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Moving into the house of mouse....
I'd nap, but with everything going on outside, that's going to be impossible. Worst room on the property, I bet-- RIGHT on the street, buses going back and forth. With the sounds that come in, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a loading bay out there. Oh well! I suppose I'll get used to sleeping through apocalyptic-like noises seven months from now.
I'm three days into growing my mouse ears, hooray! It's a tiring process, going to bed at a decent hour only to wake up before the sun is up... and I'm not even working yet. Somehow! I've been doing it without fail. I only hope I can keep up.
Half of me is wondering where the girl from my freshman year of college has gone off to. I was so peppy and energetic! Now I'm just lethargic and shy; at least, that's how I feel. I got to Orlando and wondered just what I was even doing here, which is not normal for me. Maybe it's the knot of nerves that tends to assail us all at the beginning of every new endeavor. I'm aware of all these ups and downs that are going to occur, but I'm just anxious for them (mostly the downs) to get done and over with. I like routine-- I just can't wait to hit it. Maybe it's all this free time they've been giving us. I have NO idea what to do with it.
At least my roomie's super nice. It takes a while to find out who's here for the love of the ears and who's here to get Disney stamped on their resume (the latter of which I'm not too fond of). But hey! What can you do.
Not much has happened-- a lot of meetings, a lot of rain, and a lot of doubt. I was marked as White (including Mexican) during our processing. What do you think that means? I'm not white, and I'm not Mexican. I understand the Company (it's creepy that they even call it that, like it's some super secret government agency [maybe it is...]) likes to promote its diversity, but don't label us wrong. I don't like being marked as 'Hispanic- White' or 'Hispanic- Black'; I'm both! Maybe I should have said something.
I wish my brother were on this internship. I imagine it'd be a lot easier to deal with with him around. It feels as though everyone's a world away: friends, family, familiar faces. I had a long break and it's going to take a long time to acclimate myself to this factory-fresh newness following me. Good thing I have plenty of that, right? Time, I mean!
I think what's keeping me breathing easy is the continuous thought of Walt Disney going through my mind. He was a perfectionist, a visionary, a hard worker. If he did it, all for the love of the community surrounding him and to serve them, so can I. It really brings a calming breath to my otherwise rattling nerves. I remind myself that I am strong, I am independent.
Mickey Mouse is a symbol of independence, Walt said, and Mickey Mouse gave me a big fat hug and kiss this morning on his way out-- honestly, I think that's when I realized that yeah, maybe I can do this.
At least my roomie's super nice. It takes a while to find out who's here for the love of the ears and who's here to get Disney stamped on their resume (the latter of which I'm not too fond of). But hey! What can you do.
Not much has happened-- a lot of meetings, a lot of rain, and a lot of doubt. I was marked as White (including Mexican) during our processing. What do you think that means? I'm not white, and I'm not Mexican. I understand the Company (it's creepy that they even call it that, like it's some super secret government agency [maybe it is...]) likes to promote its diversity, but don't label us wrong. I don't like being marked as 'Hispanic- White' or 'Hispanic- Black'; I'm both! Maybe I should have said something.
I wish my brother were on this internship. I imagine it'd be a lot easier to deal with with him around. It feels as though everyone's a world away: friends, family, familiar faces. I had a long break and it's going to take a long time to acclimate myself to this factory-fresh newness following me. Good thing I have plenty of that, right? Time, I mean!
I think what's keeping me breathing easy is the continuous thought of Walt Disney going through my mind. He was a perfectionist, a visionary, a hard worker. If he did it, all for the love of the community surrounding him and to serve them, so can I. It really brings a calming breath to my otherwise rattling nerves. I remind myself that I am strong, I am independent.
Mickey Mouse is a symbol of independence, Walt said, and Mickey Mouse gave me a big fat hug and kiss this morning on his way out-- honestly, I think that's when I realized that yeah, maybe I can do this.
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