Yesterday was interesting.
Background info: I occasionally write reviews of local theater productions for the local press. I’m just all kinds of local that way. Yesterday was my first ‘assignment’ after an unfortunate incident involving a Tennessee Williams play this past spring. The objective–view and review a Christmas dinner theater musical revue (I spelled it ‘review’ in the review–fortunately the editor is awesome and fixed it) As it was a dinner theater, there was a meal served; I typically imagine dinner theater to involve a meal during the show–this meal was before the show. I took my mother, and we were seated with one other ‘couple’ also of the related and completely female variety.
The younger of the two happened to be an expert on Walt Disney World. It was an awesome dinner.
As soon as she learned that I was to be visiting the happiest place on earth, she perked up and became super helpful. This continues to sustain my belief that the only nice people on earth are huge Disney fanatics (and my belief that no, I’ll never be nice). She gave me many great tips about where to go for various meals including breakfast (which, after all, is the most important meal of the day, especially when you have no time for lunch because you are at convention sessions all day long!)
But there were some bits of advice I could not take. For example, she seemed convinced that if I didn’t get to as many parks as humanly possible, I would forever regret it. I tried explaining that we’re there for work and as such, we just don’t have that much time (or energy), but it was to no avail.
I did manage to convince her that a rental car would be a bad idea. ‘I like to be transported’, I said. Her reply–‘yes, but having your own car is so convenient!’ I finally stopped her Hertz rant with ‘well, we also drink’. Yep, that ended that conversation right fast!
She also was convinced that our decision to spend our only ‘full’ day (which isn’t even a full day, as my husband has meetings that evening) at the Magic Kingdom was a very poor choice. I didn’t even try to explain that one, as who could understand my child-like desire to ride the teacups, no matter what? How could I explain that yes, I may miss some super cool shit in Hollywood Studios, but I’d pay the price of admission just to stand in front of Cinderella’s Castle and pretend that I’m eight years old?
I admit it–I’m making some poor decisions when it comes to maximizing my trip. But I do have a pretty rockin’ convention schedule that I just typed up today that I’m beyond excited about, and the ability to experience the mind-numbing cheerfulness of It’s a Small World AND stroll about Epcot for a few hours after a long day of convention-ing. And that’s all pretty magical in my book.