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.

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.

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!

I shall get back to this post when I get back from work! Lookout for updates!

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:

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.

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!

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>

The 9 to 5 cross-post, 1.

The 9 to 5:

An amalgamation of training hell.

Click for more!