Let’s Do The Time Warp Again!

Wow, two posts in one week! Must be a sign that exams have passed (for the moment)!
Well, earlier this week I fulfilled my cultural quota by experiencing my first New Orleanian parade. Then yesterday I decided to actually participate in something on my university’s campus (other than classes), and I went to a school production of The Rocky Horror Show! You read that right, The Rocky Horror Show, not The Rocky Horror Picture Show. They’re different. Before Rocky Horror’s debut on the silver screen, it was a musical stage production that took the 70’s by storm. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the movie version, so it’s a very special year this year, but the original Rocky Horror Show actually first hit the stage in 1973. In that year it won the Evening Standard Theatre Award for Best Musical, and when it was adapted into a movie in 1975 it had the longest running film release in history, a record that still stands to this day. Despite this fact, however, the film was basically considered a flop in its early days, until a small group in New York City began to have a little fun with the show.

A lot of people refer to certain movies as “cult classics,” but I think none embody that term in the truest extent quite as well as Rocky Horror. Why do I say that? Because going to see a Rocky Horror production feels a lot like participating in a cult! Nowadays, because of it’s star history on both the stage and screen, it’s very traditional for a local acting group to take over a movie theatre and screen the movie to a live audience while simultaneously acting out the play down below the screen. It sounds bizarre, but it’s some of the best fun! Most major cities have their own acting group (shoutout to the Rich Weirdos of Orlando!) that does the production anywhere from once a year to once a week. And yep, there are people that come back to watch. Every. Single. Time. It’s a common practice in the beginning of each show for the cast to do some sort of countdown. They make the whole theatre stand up, and say things like, “If you’re seen this production over a hundred times, sit the hell down.” And they will count down by random intervals until the only ones standing are first-timers, or as they’re referred to, the “Rocky Horror Virgins.” And the virgins are certainly in for a treat, because if you’ve never seen the show live before, you probably have no idea what you got yourself into.

As the film garnered popularity in certain pockets in the US throughout the 70’s, audience members who had seen the show many times began talking back to the screen, saying things that were timed well with the lines so that they combined together to make people laugh. For instance, the narrator has a line in which there is a long pause and then he says, “It’s true.” So it’s the perfect opportunity to ask an outrageous question (I believe last night someone shouted, “Is it true you had sex with Donald Trump?”), which if it is timed correctly elicits thunderous laughter. Fan groups also began dressing up to go to the theatre in outrageous costumes, and groups which became known as “shadow casts” got together to perform parts of the show during the movie. The fun spread like wildfire. Certain “callback” lines became staples, like shouting “asshole” every time Brad’s name is said, and then shouting “slut” after Janet’s name. Just as this show was breaking boudaries in theatre production and culture, it was breaking the rules of what it meant to be a member of the audience. Many local groups have their own unique traditions, and their own lines that they like to ad lib. But everyone, virgin or veteran, is encouraged to play along and add their own flair.

While I lived and worked in Orlando, I was able to see the Rich Weirdos perform their shadow cast version at the movie theatre in City Walk three times. I went in costume my first time, wearing a black and orange corset-style leotard and fishnets, which was loads of fun. I had the pleasure of bringing a few different friends to experience the show as well, some for their first time. I always tell first-timers the same thing I was told: first off, nothing in the entire world is off limits to make fun of during the show, so take a deep breath and let go of any anything in your mind that could be offended. Secondly, you’re not going to watch a movie. You’re going in order to participate in a fun experience. Do not attempt to hear what is going on in the movie, and just go with the flow.

So now that I’ve talked way more than I expected to about the history, the shadow cast traditions, and the Rich Weirdos, what I really wanted to tell you about was the play! How did it compare? Well first of all, I was absolutely blown away by the raw talent of that cast! So many fabulous voices. Each actor and actress really embodied their role and I was thoroughly impressed. The costumes were incredible, the set was versatile and functional, and the music was performed by a live band!!

But as I expected, the stage show was definitely a different experience. One thing that I hadn’t even thought about was the age of the audience members. When you go to one of the movie screenings with a shadow cast, the movie is rated R, so you have to be 18. And the shows are almost always screened at midnight, so no one brings kids. For this reason no one has any qualms spewing profanities or making extremely overt sexual references. But I was surprised at how many parents brought their kids to this show! I wondered if maybe they were somehow related to a cast member, or if the parents simply didn’t know. In any case, the language was toned down just a bit. There is always an opening spiel, reminding audience members not to hurt any of the cast members and not to throw anything directly at other people, etc., but it’s usually done by making as many offensive comments as possible. The usherette who introduced the show (shoutout to Annie! You’re fabulous!) was absolutely fantastic, and walked a fine line between tastefully theatrical and wildly inappropriate. It was a perfect balance. Secondly, this show had a lot more “virgins” than I was used to (and it didn’t even involve a virgin sacrifice…) so a lot of people didn’t know what to do. Thankfully there were a large number of cast members placed strategically around the room to shout out traditional lines, but most of the audience didn’t chime in. (And there’s always that one guy who knows so many more callbacks than the rest of the audience, and has a voice loud enough to be heard by the entire theatre. Shoutout to that guy for being awesome) And in true theatrical form, the actors paused politely so that they could be heard whenever people did shout. So as a result, for the first time I actually heard the majority of what was being said on stage. A lot more of the lines made so much more sense to me, and I also now understand why certain things get shouted when they do.

Perhaps the most disappointing: no one got up and danced to the Time Warp. I was in shock. A few stragglers attempted to dance in the aisles, but they sat back down when everyone else remained in their seats. I mean, COME ON PEOPLE!! Everyone knows the Time Warp, even if it’s your first time at the show! I mean really, it’s just a jump to the left, and a step to the right . . . Thankfully everyone did dance at the end. I think if I have any complaints at all, it’s that the cast didn’t do more to encourage us to get up and dance.

All-in-all, the show was fantastic. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate Halloween, and I am definitely excited that I have now experienced the show in its original form. It was well worth it. Wish you could have seen it too? Well guess what, they’re putting it on again TONIGHT! 8pm, Tulane University’s Dixon Hall (right next to Tulane’s uptown campus library). $10 for students, $15 for adults. If you’re in the area, you should be there. If you want a bit of extra fun, buy yourself a participation kit for $5 extra! If you’ve never seen the show before, it’s a good intro to this true cult classic. If you’ve seen the movie in the comfort of your own home but never seen it live, then it doesn’t count. You’re still a Rocky Horror virgin, and you have to come out and see it for yourself live.

And perhaps one of these days I’ll gather up some friends and make it over to see New Orleans’ shadow cast group, The Well-Hung Speakers. It’s definitely on my bucket list. So for now, Happy Halloween friends! And remember, if you find yourself stranded with a flat tire in the rain and decide to go to the nearest castle to use their phone…castles don’t have phones!

BOO to you!


It’s official y’all, today I ventured down into the French Quarter and survived my first parade! Can I call myself a New Orleanian yet? Already I have too many beads than I know what to do with (and for the record, I got these beads by looking super excited and happy and waving my hands, and walking straight up to the floats and asking for them. No removal of clothing was necessary). Today was definitely an adventure.

With only a week until Halloween, the Krewe of Boo hosted their annual Halloween parade through Downtown New Orleans. It’s similar to a Mardi Gras parade, but with far less people, less craziness, and less waiting around. It was honestly even less stressful than a Disney parade, and that’s saying a lot. But coming from Disney, I know what it’s like to camp out for a spot hours in advance. When I worked audience control in Magic Kingdom, I was shocked that some people would stake out their spots up to 3 hours in advance of the parade! Like, really? There are so many other things to do in Magic Kingdom. But whatever. So, being new to New Orleans and being relatively clueless about this particular parade, I thought it would be best to arrive as early as possible. We had no idea what to expect. It was a first for both my roommate and I.

We arrived a little over an hour before the parade started and there were police cars everywhere, just waiting to direct traffic when the time was right. They were still allowing cars to drive in both directions, so that was a good sign. And looking up and down the street, we could see only small clusters of people waiting for the parade. There was still plenty of room left, and plenty of time. What do you with that kind of time on your hands? It’s New Orleans. You get yourself a drink (or two)! So armed with some delicious cups of sangria (because in New Orleans, you can get alcohol to-go), we then found ourselves a ledge to sit on from which we would have a great view of the parade. It was great for people watching. We saw a bridal party walk by (and we saw a Second Line from down the street, although whether it was the same bride and groom we have no idea), and we saw plenty of fabulous costumes ranging from adorable children to rather “out there” adult costumes. But such is Halloween.

Once the parade finally rolled up in all of its glory, the crowds (still not nearly as crowded as Disney parade crowds) scooted right up as close as they could get to the parade floats without literally being run over. The Disney Cast Member in me screamed internally. I watched people cross between parade floats nonchalantly and get so close to the floats that they could reach out and touch them! But, when in Rome, right? So I scooted up closer too. As per usual, I took far too many pictures, but I forced myself to put the camera down each time a legit float passed directly in front of us so that I could beg for whatever goodies they were throwing. I was a little disappointed because they seemed pretty stingy with the stuff they threw, but I quickly learned that in order to get stuff you either have to be a cute little kid or an aggressive adult. Needless to say, between the two of us we ended up with more beads than we actually need, 7 plastic cups, 3 keurig cups (Pumpkin flavored coffee courtesy of PJs), 2 pralines, a skull lollipop, and a bag of pretzels. All-in-all, I’d say it was a pretty successful night.

As for the parade itself, well, nothing will ever compare to Boo to You. Nothing. But the floats were gorgeous, the dancers were fun, and I think the atmosphere is really what made the whole evening. We chatted with the people around us, we shared beads when people happened to catch a whole huge handful, we joked about the people we saw and the outrageous costumes, and just had an all around good time.

This is normally the point in my blog posts where I would say something thoughtful, or talk about the culture and how celebration is just ingrained into the New Orleans lifestyle, but I honestly don’t feel like I’ve immersed myself enough in the culture here to really comment on it. I’ve been so wrapped up in schoolwork and studying that I honestly haven’t done much else here in the city. This is one of my first actual outings (I know, that sounds pretty sad), and my first venture into the French Quarter since moving here. So I guess all I can say is that I’m very glad I actually gave myself a break from the school stuff, and it was a very worthwhile outing. I think I can officially cross something off my bucket list (which doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s a work in progress). New Orleans is certainly a city unlike any other. There is a strong sense of identity here, and a strong sense of belonging. I think this city exudes pride in their culture like nowhere I’ve really been before. And for that, I’m incredibly excited to get more involved and more immersed. I think I can safely say that after this little “practice round,” I’m a little more prepared and definitely more excited for Mardi Gras season to begin.


Happy Halloween y’all!

Things no one told me

No one told me that hearing words like, “He doesn’t deserve you,” wouldn’t help. Because I know they’re wrong, beyond a shadow of a doubt. No one told me that those words would actually hurt more for inexplicable reasons. No one told me that it would be easier to be mad at someone than to not have a single reason to hate them. Because no matter what else I’m feeling, hate and anger are not among my emotions. Unless you count the anger towards myself, which stings in a very visceral way. No one told me that hearing the words, “I thought you were going to get married,” and “You were perfect for each other,” wouldn’t help. Because I thought those thoughts too once. No one told me that I would feel the weight of disappointment from every person who had ever hoped for our marriage, and it would sit on my shoulders and mock me. No one told me that the answer to the question “What happened?” would be different every time, because there are some things that don’t fit nicely into words.

No one told me that being in my own room could be a source of pain, that the littlest things would serve as huge reminders. No one warned me how much effort it would take to tell myself to keep certain gifts because they were inherently meaningful, but they just so happened to come from him. No one told me how much it was possible for inanimate objects to be so steeped in memories that it was almost palpable. I never knew how much effort it would take to remember the happiness contained in those memories, and to not let them fall away into the abyss of sadness. I never knew how much it would feel like packing up and moving away. Each memory must be recalled, carefully protected and wrapped in bubble wrap, and tucked far away in some corner of my consciousness where I wouldn’t find it until I went looking for it. No one told me how mentally exhausting that would be.

I never knew that the tears I saw in movies, the big, fat teardrops that rolled down one’s cheeks and splashed onto surfaces below, could actually exist. I never knew that those tears could physically hurt. I’d read those words in books; I’d read about hot, stinging tears. I thought it was beautiful writing. I didn’t know it could be true. I didn’t know that my entire body could ache, that my legs would shake as I walked down the stairs, or that my chest would feel like it was holding that blanket they place on your body before an x-ray. I didn’t realize that those feelings would linger far beyond their welcome.

People will always tell you not to hate yourself, not to blame yourself. “Don’t beat yourself up,” they say. “It’s not your fault.” We live in a society that likes to be blameless, and they will do anything to place the blame on other people. But there is a value in accepting blame where it is due. And so hearing those words “It’s not your fault,” hurt far more than I expected them to. Because I know they’re wrong too. I know I can’t accept all the blame, I know it must be equally distributed. I am still the same logical person, trying to use reason to trudge through emotional waste. But some of the blame does belong to me, and I accept that. No one told me that it would actually hurt more to place all the blame on him, because I know he doesn’t deserve that punishment. I know it’s not his fault. And I know that he is accepting all of the blame anyway, and that hurts more than I could have imagined.

No one told me that hearing the words, “If he truly loves you, he’ll come back,” would hurt worst of all. Because they’re not true. Life doesn’t work that way. Truthfully, I know he loves me because he let me go. It’s the very fact that I know he loves me, and that I love him, which makes everything unbearable. Is it possible that somehow, years from now, our lives will collide in such a way that we will be together again? It’s conceivable. But thoughts like that are no comfort, because life continues moving forward. And so must we.

Finding Community

People like to say that “the Lord works in mysterious ways” to explain away a lot of things, but sometimes that description is pretty darn accurate. Remember when I said a few days ago I got lost on Tulane’s campus and managed to find the Catholic student center? Well I think that moment constitutes one of those “mysterious moments” in my life. It’s a coincidence that I stumbled upon that building just on the edge of campus, but even more so that the building was only just constructed and in fact wasn’t even open yet. Today was the grand opening ceremony, so I decided to attend. After all, free food was promised. And in true Catholic fashion, free wine as well.

Let me just say that being a grad student is distinctly different than being an undergraduate college student. It was strange being surrounded by so many freshman (and their parents, because it’s move-in weekend, and the parents haven’t let go yet), and I purposely wore a Delta Gamma shirt so at the very least people knew I couldn’t be a freshman (and I also hoped maybe I would find a sister). It was strange knowing that these students were here looking for ways to get involved on campus, because that’s what you do when you’re a freshman, and I really didn’t want that sort of time commitment. What I was really just looking for was community. While I would love to be “involved,” I know that my time is going to be limited, and so my experience this year is going to be unlike that of a freshman. I’ve “been there, done that” and already had an absolutely wonderful college experience, and after being out of school and working for a year it feels almost strange to get back into that mentality of “getting involved.” I went to the open house today not looking for activities, but looking for a place to call home.

I’ve spent almost my entire life in Catholic School, so I’ve always been involved in a church. It was a no-brainer. My first experience outside of that Catholic “bubble” was when I spent six months in England. One of the priests there warned me that I would be living in a “God-less society,” and not to let it shock me too much. I found solace in the Catholic chaplaincy (the Catholic student union), where there was a study space, a kitchen (with free tea, soup, and biscuits), a library, a meeting room, and most importantly a chapel. What I found there was a home away from home, and I made some amazing friends there that I am still connected with today. Without the chaplaincy, and daily mass, Lectio Divina, adoration, and Sunday night dinners, I would have been pretty lonely and homesick. Finding the chaplaincy was like a beacon of light. I didn’t know it was there. I hadn’t gone looking for it. But suddenly as I looked across the street from the bus stop, there it was. It’s another one of those “God moments.” I know that God brought me to Holy Name Chaplaincy, just as surely as He brought me here to New Orleans and to the Fr. Val McInnes Catholic Student Center.

What did I find at the Catholic center today? I found a common area, that will be filled with couches and tables and chairs. I found a kitchen that will serve Sunday night dinners. I found study rooms, a library, and some offices for clergy and such (starting to sound familiar?). But most importantly, I found a chapel. The building overwhelmingly reminded me so much of Holy Name chaplaincy in Manchester, that I had to sit in the chapel for a while and just exist in that wave of emotion. Several current Tulane students told me that this building was a long time coming, and that it had been in the works for years. They said how lucky I was to be able to experience it. I certainly feel pretty blessed.

I can’t remember most of the names of the people I met today, but I remember their smiles. I remember how excited everyone seemed, how happy they were to see new faces, and how welcoming they were. I remember one conversation in particular, and we were talking about future plans. You know, the big “what are you going to do with your degree” conversations, in which you halfway make up some scenario that probably won’t happen because you don’t have the heart to look someone in the eyes and say “I don’t know what I’m going to do with this degree.” And because this student was considering a career in medicine, I asked if he had looked at any med schools. I, too, remember the days when I wanted to go into medicine. He shook his head and laughed a little. “I’ve gotta figure out what He wants for me,” he responded. He nodded at the Blessed Sacrament. And I couldn’t help but smile.
“He has some crazy plans,” I agreed. “There’s no telling where He’ll bring you.”

If you asked me two years ago, “Where will you be in 2015?” I definitely wouldn’t have said New Orleans. But here I am. God works in mysterious ways. I commented to another student (who was born and raised in New Orleans) how nice it was that I knew so many people here. So many of my college friends settled here after graduation, and many of them were also born and raised in this area. “New Orleans does that to you,” she responded. “You better watch out, this city is hard to let go of.” I smiled. I’m starting to realize that exact same thing. I think I can officially call New Orleans “home” now. At least for a little while.

Twists and Turns . . . and Parallel Parking

I’ve often defined “wanderlust” as the desire to simply wander around a new place and absorb the atmosphere. I think in that respect, my time in New Orleans will be no different than in the other places I’ve been. I still have that wanderlust and the itch to get out and explore. Yesterday I drove over to Tulane to get my first glimpse of the campus (and to figure out where the heck I’m supposed to park). As many people warned me, New Orleans is certainly a mess of one-way streets, dead ends, crazy intersections, and lots of traffic. And Tulane is in the heart of this city, so trying to get close to campus is like playing darts. I aimlessly drove down countless streets trying to find somewhere close to the campus, and even drove through campus a few times, but just when I thought I was at the right place I hit a road block. Literally. Or a dead end. Or when I wanted to turn around, I hit a one-way street going the opposite way I wanted to go. I found a parking garage, but it looked like it was reserved for those with parking passes, so I didn’t want to risk it and left the garage. When I finally was forced to parallel park (something I will have to work on) I was still a bit of a walk from the campus itself. So I gathered up my courage and started walking in the direction I had last seen campus buildings.

Then I was faced with the truly hard part: finding the buildings I was looking for. I had been emailed a campus map, but I do not own a smartphone so I couldn’t pull it up. I don’t have a printer, so I couldn’t print it ahead of time. I had tried to familiarize myself with the map as best I could, but unfortunately I didn’t even know where I was at that moment, so I had no idea what direction to turn. Naturally I turned in the wrong direction. I found residence halls, the liberal arts building, the Episcopal student center, and then the brand new not-even-open-yet Catholic students center. I learned that the Catholic student center is holding a grand opening night on Friday with free food, so that’s some cool info that I tucked in the back of my mind. I then turned around and headed back the way I came. I found the parking garage that I had attempted to park in, and a recreation center, and more residence halls. I came to that edge of campus, and turned around again, heading back the way I just came. I found the student center, bookstore, and food court (super useful stuff) and browsed through the bookstore just to get out of the oppressive Southern heat. And then as I exited out of the side of the student center, I found the building I was looking for. The building I would return to the next morning for my graduate student orientation.

It was quite a long walk around campus, and I was rather exhausted and frustrated. At one point I just wanted to cry because I was so tired of not knowing where I was going. I don’t handle being lost very well, because it rarely ever happens. I have a pretty good sense of direction, but New Orleans has definitely gotten the better of me. But on the bright side, I now know where almost everything is. The act of being able to wander aimlessly is in some ways very peaceful, and the campus is certainly beautiful. I don’t know if any campus can quite compare to Spring Hill, but it was wonderful all the same. I’m very glad that I was forced to take such a meandering path (even though I didn’t have to do that, since I was actually quite close in the first place). But all-in-all, the outing was worth it. I still haven’t figured out quite where to park, but I suppose I’ll figure that out eventually. Today I arrived an hour and a half early for orientation (thirty minutes of which was spent looking for an appropriate parking space), and I had a beautiful early morning stroll through campus to my destination. I watched the bookstore open and I sat near the food court where they have a beautiful waterfall feature and wrote this blog post.

Hopefully this year goes well. At least I’ve settled some anxiety by figuring out where all the buildings are, and although driving around in circles was frustrating I now know which streets go in which directions and how they intersect with each other. I’m excited for the year to get started!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!

Have I mentioned I hate moving? Well, after a very long and boring trip down I-10 today, I’ve finally arrived in Louisiana! Now all that’s left to do is unpack. Which is possibly the worst part of moving, because now I have to find space for everything. I have discovered that I have entirely too much stuff.

The drive was incredibly uneventful, except for a moment when I was hungry and attempted to open a candy bar wrapper and almost veered off the road. But I did get the wrapper open, so I say it was a success. Oh, and Dad almost got the moving truck stuck in a parking garage, but that’s another story. (Don’t worry, no one was hurt and the truck didn’t have so much as a scratch.) After driving more than 500 miles on I-10 I have definitely become reacquainted with the route I knew so well in college. Now I get to spend even MORE time on that terribly boring road. If only you could hear the excitement in my voice . . . it’s almost the same amount of excitement I have about I-4 in Orlando. Ugh.

But I am grateful to finally be here. My new house (yes, a real house!) is beautiful, and my roommates are wonderful, and everything is perfect. I don’t know how I managed to luck out so much. My first apartment was far nicer than I deserved and I don’t know how I succeeded in finding such an awesome roommate through a random post on the internet, but that all worked out perfectly. And now I get to live in a beautiful house with one of my dear friends (and sister!) from college, in a fabulous city. We’ve already gone out to try some local food at a place called Mr. Ed’s Oyster Bar (at least I think that’s the name? I may have to look that up again to double check), where I had a stuffed crab po boy. We also got coupons to come back and enjoy a free house wine. I think I could get used to this.

Well, here’s to another chapter of Wanderlust. A new city with new people, new places to explore, new foods to try, and new experiences to be had. I didn’t do a good job with updating you on life in Disney, and I probably won’t do a good job of updating you on New Orleans, but I will at least try. At the very least you’ll get some sappy post when I move again about all the cool things I did this year. But no guarantees. I’m off on another adventure! I guess all that’s left to be said is laissez les bon temps rouler! (For those of you who don’t speak Cajun, that means “let the good times roll!” There will certainly be many good times to be had.)

The Stages of Moving

Maybe it’s just part of being a young adult, but I feel like I’ve moved around way too much. For almost my entire life I lived in the same house, so the act of packing up and moving is pretty foreign to me. Yet in the past year, I’ve completely packed up and moved four times. I packed up and moved out of my college dorm and back home. I then moved from my home to my first real apartment in Orlando. When my lease was up, I moved all of my stuff out and back home again (putting about half of the stuff in storage). I then temporarily moved into my aunt and uncle’s house. And now I’m preparing to move to New Orleans for graduate school. I’ll probably only be there a year before I move again, but only time can tell. For someone who lived in one house their entire life, I’m starting to feel like a nomad . . .

So here are my thoughts on moving. The stages that (probably) everyone goes through when they have to move:

1. Denial
You tell yourself, “I don’t really have that much stuff. It’ll be easy.” You decide to sit down and eat some cake. Watch some Netflix. Call your best friend. Upload some pictures that you forgot about. Just about anything besides packing.

2. Attempt to organize
Maybe you can start putting things in boxes. You have a plan, everything is going to be organized by category. Kitchen stuff in one box. Desk stuff in another. It will be perfect. Planning commences.

3. When the hell did I get so much stuff?!?!
You realize that all of your kitchen stuff will not fit neatly into one box. Or two. Or three. Maybe four will do it. Whoa, where did this stuff come from?! Maybe you can consolidate two small boxes into one big box . . . which doesn’t work at all, so you divide it back up again into two boxes. Except this time the stuff doesn’t fit neatly like it did last time. WHY?!? Ugh. You question your initial decision to procrastinate because you don’t think you have enough time to get everything together before the moving truck arrives.

4. It’s time to throw things away
That’s it, stuff has to go. You grab a garbage bag and decide to throw away anything you don’t need. You take a look around. “I don’t need so many tupperware,” you tell yourself.” But then it takes 20 minutes to figure out which pieces to toss, so you decide to keep them anyway. What about the stuff on your desk? Do you really need all those papers? What if you need to look back at your senior thesis one day and your computer crashed and you have no access to internet because aliens have taken over the planet and you need to know the information contained in that paper in order to save the world? Yeah, better keep that paper. It might be important.

5. Sentimental stuff
Aww look, you found your nametag from your first day of orientation! It’s one of those stickers that says “Hello my name is,” and it brings back memories. It must have been hiding under your desk. You start to throw it away and realize it’s pretty cool that you still have it. Maybe you can stick it in a scrapbook one day. You decide to keep it. How can you throw that away?? THE MEMORIES. You’re going to look back at it one day and be glad you have it. Obviously you can’t throw it away. (If you had thrown it away on day one that would be totally different, but now you have it so . . . )

6. Break time
You feel pretty accomplished because you have a nice stack of boxes. You figure you’re probably halfway done, so you deserve a break. *5 hours later you’re still binge-watching Netflix, or writing a blog post . . .*

7. More stuff appears
You finally realize you need to get back to packing. You manage to throw a handful of things away and feel good about yourself. You put everything else in semi-organized boxes. You look around and realize there’s still so much stuff . . . like, where did it all come from?? You start shoving things randomly in bags, because you have no where else to put it and you’re tired of packing.

8. Cleaning?
Now that your place is devoid of (most) stuff, you realize how dusty it is. And where did those fuzzballs come from? You debate whether you should clean or just leave it. Are you going to get charged if you don’t clean? Probably not. But wouldn’t cleaning be the nice thing to do? Do you even care? You debate while taking another snack break.

9. The moving truck
You realize now that your entire life is boxed up, it has to all make it into a truck and trekked to your new place. Ugh. Why is life so hard?

10. Unpacking
After successfully getting all your worldly possessions into a truck, you have to unload everything at your destination. At this point you just put stuff in random corners because you don’t care. As long as your bed makes it to its designated location. Everything else can wait . . . indefinitely. You decide that unpacking is definitively worse than the initial packing process. It’s time for some wine. And a nap. You deserve it.

See Ya Real Soon!

This past year has been the most amazing year I could have asked for. I was certain that after working for the Mouse for an entire straight year I would be sick of it and I would be ready to go home, but the truth it I’m a mess. In the past week I’ve bought two unnecessary souvenir things (and I never buy the souvenir things. Oh, that drink comes in a souvenir cup? Can I get it cheaper in a regular cup? Thanks) and I sacrificed a lot of sleep to see my favorite shows three nights in a row. I don’t give up sleep for anything.

I’ve had four different jobs in the past year here at Disney. People tend to move around a lot, but certainly not that quickly. In most cases, you can’t move around quite that quickly. But somehow I did. I started my journey seasonally at Blizzard Beach, working in quick service food and beverage. I thought I would hate it, but truthfully it was wonderful. I still remember my first trainer telling me, “Congratulations! You’ve won the cast member lottery. You have one of the best jobs.” And as far as food service goes, he was certainly right. I thought I wanted to work in Magic Kingdom, but if I had been placed in Magic Kingdom food and beverage I probably would have hated it. Wait, that’s a lie. I doubt I could have hated it. But I certainly wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much as I enjoyed Blizzard Beach.

And after three summers at Blizzard, I decided that I didn’t want to leave Disney and get a real job just yet, so I applied for the college program. A lot of people seemed confused by this change. They asked, “Why would you choose to do the college program when you already work here? Isn’t that going backwards?” Truthfully, in some ways it was. But at the same time, going from being seasonal to full time is nearly impossible. At least right away. Disney doesn’t give full time positions easily. But by doing the college program, I was essentially guaranteed acceptance (because I was already a cast member with a good record) and they would work me at full time hours. Mostly. It was a win-win. And so I left behind my beloved water parks and entered the big leagues: Magic Kingdom Parade Audience Control. People thought I was crazy for doing it. “You’ll hate it,” they told me. “It’s a miserable job.” They were all wrong. PAC was some of the most fun I’ve ever had, and I loved (almost) every minute. Yes, I got yelled at. Yes, people used their strollers as battering rams against my shins. Yes, I got ignored. Yes, I had to break up a fight, but only once. And you know what else? I was part of a huge, tight-knit team that got paid to talk to people and make magic. The yelling only constituted about 10% of my day. The rest was pure magic.

My College Program was short, only 4 months. I had one of the latest start dates, September 4th, and then it was all over in January. But in January I had another Disney job lined up: a Professional Internship with the Youth Education Series. I got paid to bring field trips of kids through the parks and teach them things like roller coaster physics, behind the scenes secrets, and life lessons about the greater world around them. It was literally the best job in the world. I can’t imagine anything better than YES. And through YES I made some of the most amazing friends I could ask for.

But all good things come to an end, and as my internship was ending I knew I needed somewhere else to go. I hadn’t heard back from graduate school yet, and my life felt like I was in limbo. So I applied for another Disney job, and accepted a part-time position with Children’s Activities in the resorts. Again, I truly lucked out with jobs. I had one of the most coveted front line roles. I got paid to play with children.

For better or worse, I was soon contacted with an offer I couldn’t refuse. I had been accepted to graduate school. It was a dream come true. But with this new dream in hand, I had to abandon my old dream. And with great sadness, I gave Disney my notice.

As I have documented, my last week at Disney was sad but filled with as much Disney magic as I could squeeze into those short days. I chose my last ride in each park (Tower of Terror in Hollywood Studios, Spaceship Earth in Epcot, and Peter Pan in Magic Kingdom) and a last “meal” in each park (apple crisp a-la-mode in Hollywood Studios, fish and chips, Victoria sponge cake, and a Pimms in the UK in Epcot, and a kitchen sink in Magic Kingdom). I watched Fantasmic, Illuminations, and Wishes with some of my dearest Disney friends. And I took plenty of time to enjoy what would probably be my last time in the parks by myself doing nothing, because from now on I will probably either be accompanied by cast member friends or family. I will definitely miss going to the parks alone.

There are a lot of things I will miss about Disney. Before Disney I didn’t really know much or care about Walt Disney, but now just hearing a clip of his voice is enough to make me tear up. Disney has changed the way I view business, and honestly the entire world. I have learned so much about people, and about myself. Each location has been unique, with wonderful people and new challenges. I have learned to say “Ski ya real soon,” “Have a magical day,” “Tell me more,” and finally “Welcome home.” I have learned so many different skills, from handling cash to managing groups of people with very different attitudes. And most importantly, I have learned the value of hard work and good customer service.

Thank you Mickey. It’s not goodbye, it’s simply “See ya real soon!”

Some Imagination, huh?

You know that wonderful moment where you finally feel confident in your ability to do something? I had that moment today. This summer I’ve had the absolute pleasure of taking on my fourth role here at Walt Disney World as a member of the Children’s Activities team at Saratoga Springs and Old Key West resorts. Of course, I didn’t expect that soon after taking the job I would be accepted to graduate school and would soon be moving far away and leaving Disney. I didn’t think I would get accepted to graduate school at all, let alone so soon, but I had applied anyway. Life works out pretty strangely sometimes. So I felt incredibly guilty that I had accepted this new job, gone through all of the training, only to turn around and put in a month’s notice that I would be leaving. I still feel pretty bad about that. I don’t think I would have accepted the job if I had known, but I am so glad that I did. And today for the first time, I really felt like I had finally got the hang of it all. Too bad I only have two more shifts left. I’m definitely going to miss this. I’m going to miss playing Disney trivia by the pool, and seeing the same excited kids a few days in a row, and hosting campfires, and I think I’ll even miss talking about random things on the microphone. It’s been an amazing opportunity, and I am so grateful for the chance to be a part of such a great group of cast members. I didn’t think saying goodbye to everyone would be so hard, because I haven’t been here long enough, but I’m definitely not ready to say goodbye.

I did say my final goodbye to Hollywood Studios tonight, however. And that was pretty emotional. My fantastic roommate from this past year met me in the park after we got off work, and together we rode Tower of Terror (which is my favorite ride) and Star Tours. We watched the Muppet Show for a good laugh, and ate ice cream on Sunset Boulevard. I got a very pleasant surprise at Scoops when I found out that they switched dairy-free ice cream brands, and they now sell So Delicious Coconut Milk Ice Cream!!! It was like my own personal magical moment. I had my favorite dessert: the apple crisp a-la-mode, with that glorious coconut milk ice cream on top. I was perfectly content.

And then it was time to watch Fantasmic one last time. Fantasmic has always been my favorite show. When I was seasonal at Disney, I would start and end each summer by seeing Fantasmic. Because it is also my roommate’s favorite show, it kind of became our thing. We bought glow-with-the-show ears so that we could wear them to Fantasmic, and we went to see it together on many occasions. So it was only appropriate that we were both there tonight. Despite a few technical glitches, the show was as fabulous as always, and per usual I got a bit teary at the end. But surprisingly I didn’t actually cry. I expected that I would. No, the tears didn’t come until later, as I said goodbye to my roommate in the parking lot. I know it’s silly because I’m certainly going to be back to visit, and I know I’ll see her again. It’s not like either of us is moving far away. But I think I just realized how grateful I was to have her as a friend, and how much I will miss the experience of this past year. It has been magical beyond my wildest dreams.

Tomorrow will surely include more goodbyes, and I will pay a visit to my favorite park. I’ll say goodbye to Epcot, and probably spend a lot of time in the UK, and of course watch IllumiNations. But tomorrow is another day.


Embrace Your Inner Tourist

Continuing with the week of “lasts,” today I wore my YES blues for the last time. This past year I had the absolutely amazing opportunity to be a part of Disney’s Youth Education Series team, and I got paid to lead groups of kids through the parks and teach them stuff. What kind of stuff, you ask? All kinds! I hopefully imparted some educational knowledge through my programs at Magic Kingdom, where I taught about how we use the laws of physics to create special effects and thrill rides. I attempted to give kids a greater sense of cultural awareness and global responsibility at Epcot by leading them around the World Showcase, allowing them to speak with a cultural representative, and talking about how cultures develop (and how they are all similar). I taught some cool Disney history when I taught about Walt’s vision for his parks, how he came up with the idea of audio-animatronics, and how much he wanted for Epcot to be a little patch of peace and harmony as a global community. I spouted off random Disney trivia when applicable, because I really can’t help myself. And I had a darn good time doing it all. It was truly one of the most amazing opportunities to come my way. But as with all things, that time is at an end. Today I was scheduled to facilitate my last Global Citizenship class in Epcot, except the group never showed up. So that was a huge bummer. At least I got to see people and say goodbye.

Then came my daily adventure: saying goodbye to Epcot. I finally went on Ellen’s Energy Adventure (all 45 minutes of 80’s style glory, and of course the fabulous Ellen DeGeneris) and that was awesome. Super retro, but awesome. And I trekked all the way around the World Showcase so that I could watch the American Adventure one last time (and I didn’t cry! That’s an accomplishment, folks) and  managed to catch the Voices of Liberty as well (they did make me cry, but that’s nothing new). After I walk out of that show, I always feel super proud to be an American. It’s great. But it also means so much more to me now because it was the capstone moment of Global Citizenship, after which we talk about what makes up American culture, and how we’re a melting pot of so many different cultures, and all the struggles that has posed for our society, and how we’ve tried to overcome them, but how we still have things to work on . . . it’s beautiful. I also have seen that show enough times to have it entirely memorized.

And then I went to complete my last two bucket list items: show-request a Jungle Cruise skipper, and go to the new Trader Sams Grog Grotto in the Polynesian (which is Jungle Cruise themed, so it made sense to do them on the same day). One of my friends that I worked with during my college program on Main Street recently got a job as a skipper on the Jungle Cruise, and I absolutely love the Jungle Cruise, so I knew I had to ride on his boat at least once before I left. And I had never done a show request before, so that as exciting. It worked out perfectly. I arrived at the Jungle Cruise just after he had gotten his assignment to take over the next boat, and a few minutes after I got off it started to thunder. So the timing couldn’t have been better. And it was so much fun! It was the best last trek around the jungle I could have asked for.

Then just as the storm clouds were rolling in, it was off to the Polynesian Resort! The Poly has undergone quite a number of changed over the past year (or more? It’s been a while). The entire lobby looks different, the pool has gotten a makeover, the cast members at Captain Cooks have different costumes, there’s now a walk-up window just for Dole Whips (which is necessary), and perhaps most importantly: there is a brand new bar/restaurant called Trader Sams. If you have ever ridden the Jungle Cruise, you may remember that Trader Sam is the head salesman in the Jungle, offering you two of his heads for one of yours. So Trader Sams Grog Grotto is a quirky place, set deep in the heart of the jungle, with a few lone skippers as waiters and waitresses.  All of the drinks have punny names (like my Hippopoto-mai-tai), and when you order the drinks strange things begin to happen. For instance, my Hippopoto-mai-tai must have scared some hippos, because the waiters began shouting that there were hippos in the trees! How do you get a hippo down from a tree? With two shots (*cue gunshot noises*) of rum! And the ceiling suddenly lights up as if they have opened fire on the trees. And each drink has its own fun effects that you really have to experience, instead of just read about. The only drawback? It’s incredibly small. It’s probably the same size as a large bedroom, maybe. And it probably only seats like 30 people. There’s plenty of seating outside, but it’s certainly not the same experience. And if you’re going to pay $17 for a drink and a souvenir glass, you also want the experience to go with it. At least, that’s my perspective.

I met up with three of my coworkers from the Youth Education Series at Trader Sams; we were all interns together, and although we’re beginning to forge our own paths in the world we’re still attempting to spend time hanging out every so often. But one of my friends saw me and commented, “Wow, you look so much like a tourist!” And I had to laugh. She was certainly correct. For once I was wearing sneakers instead of sandals, I was wearing a baseball cap, I had my pin lanyard around my neck in addition to my camera, and I had my park backpack casually slung around my shoulders. Normally I try my hardest not to look like a tourist, but today I didn’t care. Why? Because today I was much less concerned about how I looked, and much more concerned with taking in as much of my surroundings as possible. I stopped frequently to pin trade with cast members. I took photos of things I thought I would want to remember. I finally bought the bracelet made of recycled Disney park maps that I have always wanted to by. I said yes to buying the souvenir cup at Trader Sams ( and I never buy the souvenir cup!). And so today I embraced my inner tourist. And I’m okay with that, because today I accomplished my goals as a cast member. I wouldn’t have it any other way.


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