1. EVERYONE in southern California smokes. I think the smog here is more from cigarette smoke than it is from cars.
2. I have the rare distinction of being able to say that I was once almost run over by a van occupied by Mulan and Cinderella.
3. If you want a really excellent meal and incredible ambiance, try the Carthay Circle Restaurant in Disney California Adventure. Plates range from $18 to $40 but it is so worth it. After you're done eating, ask your waiter if they can give you a tour.
4. I never realized that beaches actually could be WARM. I'm used to Half Moon Bay, where you're lucky if you get one hour of unobstructed sunlight a day. Going to the beach here feels like Hawaii.
5. Yesterday I watched a homeless man in tie-dye spandex shorts and pink legwarmers at the bus stop reach into the garbage can, pull out a McDonalds cup, down it, and walk away.
6. My brave father, who gets sick on CAROUSELS, took some bonine and rode Star Tours not once but TWICE last week. Let's all learn from this.
7. Now that I've driven 15 miles to get Chipotle after work, the gravity of the decline of my mental health has become all too evident.
8. If you're not a fan of projectile vomiting, you may want to avoid eating at Corndog Castle and riding Goofy's Sky School immediately afterward.
9. After you get off Star Tours, we ask that you return your 3D glasses. There is literally no other way to get out of the building besides walking down the long ramps at the bottom of which are located the glasses bins. DO NOT DROP YOUR GLASSES FROM THE UPPER FLIGHT DECK UNLESS YOU HAVE A DEATHWISH. The next time I have to fill out paperwork because the glasses you dropped hit a guest in the face will be the last time you see the sun. (That's a little overdramatic, but seriously, cut it out.)
10. Mickey's Halloween Party started yesterday. Nothing more entertaining than launching a cabin with Beetlejuice, Rapunzel and Spiderman on board. Come visit and dress up!
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Friday, September 21, 2012
Sappy
Now that I'm settling into a normal work routine (if you can call working in a space station a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away "normal"), life has been a little less exciting. Not to brag, but I've been an excellent employee. Anyone who knows me personally can testify that, in everyday life, I am smiling constantly, and due to my super nonconfrontational nature, I almost never lose my temper. This all remains true, even when a parent yells at me because I ask to check their child's height once again (we're required to check at at least 2 different positions in the queue) or throws a humongous fit because I make them throw away their hot chocolate that they just bought (really? Do you THINK I'm going to let you bring a cup full of scorching hot molten liquid on a flight simulator? And what are you doing drinking hot chocolate in 95 degree weather anyways?) But I have a lot of coworkers who've forgotten about the magic. After a while, after spending a large part of your time in unglamorous backstage, after dealing with annual passholders who know how to work the system, after knowing too many secrets and hearing too much negativity, the magic starts to fade a little. It takes an active effort to remember Walt's vision for this place, to preserve it not only for the guests but for yourself. Too many of those who work here forget to smile and be patient. But I've made a commitment to find something new to love every day. I come into the park as a guest at least twice a week, to remind myself what the show looks like from the outside and how I expect to be treated. I look for "magic moments" to make every day, whether it's calling a little girl in costume Snow White and seeing her face light up or just taking the time to chat with a Star Wars enthusiast who wants to know how many different flights there are and exactly which planets you visit (there are 54 different combinations, just so you know).
I think the most important thing to remember can be summed up by a quote I saw once on Twitter: "Vegas is not an adult Disneyland. Disneyland is an adult Disneyland." Everyone who comes here is a child, and everyone wants to see some magic. Everyone wants to be treated like a special guest by cast members who are just as thrilled as they are to be in the park that day.
I can do that.
I think the most important thing to remember can be summed up by a quote I saw once on Twitter: "Vegas is not an adult Disneyland. Disneyland is an adult Disneyland." Everyone who comes here is a child, and everyone wants to see some magic. Everyone wants to be treated like a special guest by cast members who are just as thrilled as they are to be in the park that day.
I can do that.
Monday, September 10, 2012
I'm no photographer, but I owe you pictures
CUPCAKE ATM with Jamie
Right next to my apartment building
Check out the wait time. They think of everything.
Mickey waffle, because everyone here cooks food for me
Watching the fireworks show from the freeway and trying REALLY hard not to total my car
Winning grocery bingo = so awesome
Happiest Job on Earth
Days off of work are strange. Back home in Modesto, it's so easy to fill dead time. The city is small enough that you see someone you know almost anywhere you go, and if you're me you're forced to hide behind meticulously stacked cans of green beans and pretend to be absorbed in reading nutritional information, but you always know exactly where everything is and exactly what you want to do. Here, the options are endless, but so limited when you don't have friends and family and know the area like the back of your hand. The main evidence I find that we have a benevolent god is that He let iPhones with GPS be invented before I became a driver.
Besides my days off, which have been filled mainly with playing guitar, napping, and spending two hours trying to find the nearest Anthropologie in a 4 story mall, work has been excellent. The first day without a trainer was a little frightening; I spent the last hour of my shift outside at the greeter position, which usually consists of at least 3 people, completely alone. This was Sunday, the day before Labor Day. I was getting probably 150 people through the doors each minute, all while attempting to verify correct times on fastpasses being shoved in my face, hand out Flik cards to measure the wait time, check the heights of small children that parents were attempting to smuggle in by outfitting them with various eared hats, and keep everyone from breaking into mass mutiny. As one who suffers from abnormal amounts of anxiety, this was pretty much as bad as it gets. Luckily my lead came out right before a group of adults with a ridiculously high sense of entitlement demanded to use the elevator because one of them was "claustrophobic" and couldn't wait in the normal queue with everyone else. Maintaining a lovely smile, he explained to them the nature of the ride, which is that YOU ARE TRAPPED IN A SMALL BOX AND SHAKEN AROUND FOR 4 MINUTES. This didn't stop them from cussing him out, but they didn't get to use the elevator.
Other fun facts about my life:
I have one of the only jobs in the world where you get to wish someone a happy birthday between 50 and 400 times a day. These numbers are not exaggerated.
You cannot even BEGIN to comprehend the quantity of strollers at Disneyland until you have to park them all. Related: after thinking that all strollers had squirrely wheels that prevented them from being moved easily, found out that strollers have brakes.
Watching a Giants v. Dodgers game (in which the Giants SLAUGHTER THEM) with seven coworkers is a good way to ensure that seven of your coworkers hate your guts.
Rumor has it that cabin 4 in Star Tours is haunted because the old PeopleMover track runs through it and a little boy and girl died on it years ago. I take these things seriously, so I actually went home and googled this. The only people to ever die on the PeopleMover were 17 and 18 year old boys, both of whom were crushed while trying to jump from one vehicle to another. Figures.
I get approximately 6 people a day who tell me I should be a princess. This is far beyond pleasing.
I ran into my first Modestan a few days ago, Peter Stavrianoudaukis, an attorney and friend of my father's whom I have known since I was a little girl. He also was one of the judges when I did mock trial in high school. He ruled against me and granted the defense's motion to exclude evidence, which my teenage self was a little angsty about. Peter passed through the turnstile so quickly that I didn't have time to say hi. As he put it in a later text, "Definitely wasn't expecting a familiar face at a space station."
And finally, no drug can compare to the high you get when you load a full flight of 40 people. Every seat filled. That's when you know you've made it.
Besides my days off, which have been filled mainly with playing guitar, napping, and spending two hours trying to find the nearest Anthropologie in a 4 story mall, work has been excellent. The first day without a trainer was a little frightening; I spent the last hour of my shift outside at the greeter position, which usually consists of at least 3 people, completely alone. This was Sunday, the day before Labor Day. I was getting probably 150 people through the doors each minute, all while attempting to verify correct times on fastpasses being shoved in my face, hand out Flik cards to measure the wait time, check the heights of small children that parents were attempting to smuggle in by outfitting them with various eared hats, and keep everyone from breaking into mass mutiny. As one who suffers from abnormal amounts of anxiety, this was pretty much as bad as it gets. Luckily my lead came out right before a group of adults with a ridiculously high sense of entitlement demanded to use the elevator because one of them was "claustrophobic" and couldn't wait in the normal queue with everyone else. Maintaining a lovely smile, he explained to them the nature of the ride, which is that YOU ARE TRAPPED IN A SMALL BOX AND SHAKEN AROUND FOR 4 MINUTES. This didn't stop them from cussing him out, but they didn't get to use the elevator.
Other fun facts about my life:
I have one of the only jobs in the world where you get to wish someone a happy birthday between 50 and 400 times a day. These numbers are not exaggerated.
You cannot even BEGIN to comprehend the quantity of strollers at Disneyland until you have to park them all. Related: after thinking that all strollers had squirrely wheels that prevented them from being moved easily, found out that strollers have brakes.
Watching a Giants v. Dodgers game (in which the Giants SLAUGHTER THEM) with seven coworkers is a good way to ensure that seven of your coworkers hate your guts.
Rumor has it that cabin 4 in Star Tours is haunted because the old PeopleMover track runs through it and a little boy and girl died on it years ago. I take these things seriously, so I actually went home and googled this. The only people to ever die on the PeopleMover were 17 and 18 year old boys, both of whom were crushed while trying to jump from one vehicle to another. Figures.
I get approximately 6 people a day who tell me I should be a princess. This is far beyond pleasing.
I ran into my first Modestan a few days ago, Peter Stavrianoudaukis, an attorney and friend of my father's whom I have known since I was a little girl. He also was one of the judges when I did mock trial in high school. He ruled against me and granted the defense's motion to exclude evidence, which my teenage self was a little angsty about. Peter passed through the turnstile so quickly that I didn't have time to say hi. As he put it in a later text, "Definitely wasn't expecting a familiar face at a space station."
And finally, no drug can compare to the high you get when you load a full flight of 40 people. Every seat filled. That's when you know you've made it.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Awkward and Awesome
Awkward:
- Discovering a Code U (yes, urine) on my loading deck after launching a flight. Even worse, still 85% sure everyone I grouped in that line was an adult.
- Riding Indiana Jones three times in a row before it closes for 3 months and the cast members there beginning to call me by name.
- Crying during the "Baby Mine" song in our fireworks show, when Dumbo flies across the sky like Tinkerbell, and trying really hard to hide it. Pretty sure anyone in my family knows why that made me so emotional.
- The at least 4 different pronunciations of my name I have heard from guests so far. Maybe I should get a new nametag that spells it phonetically?
- Riding in the front seat on Splash Mountain at 9:30 pm. Pneumonia is not glamorous.
Awesome:
- Getting a kiss on the hand from JJ, a kid who has down sydnrome and visits Disneyland at least five days a week. It was his 20th birthday.
- Feeling my first earthquake! It was a 4.1, and we had to evacuate the entire building, on my first day. Southern California rocks.
- 3 cheese monte cristos from Cafe Orleans. Still in heaven.
- Proposal Story #1 (labeled as such because I'm sure I'll have more): my roommate and I watched the fireworks show from Fantasyland last night (which I don't recommend; you can't hear most of the music, and you get whiplash from trying to watch both the fireworks behind Toontown and the fireworks coming off the castle itself). After the show, we wanted to walk through the castle but they don't reopen it for 15 minutes afterwards because of pyrotechnic fallout, so I convinced her to ride Casey Jr. with me to kill some time. While we were circling the Storybook Land canals, I noticed one boat with only two people in it, plus their skipper. We passed out of their sight for about a minute, and when we came back around to Cinderella's castle, the man was on one knee in the boat, proposing to his girlfriend, who was crying and smiling. Pretty safe to say that was my highlight of the week. When we passed them once again, the whole train cheered.
- Deciding after leaving the park at 11:30 pm that we were in need of cupcakes, thus driving 40 miles to the original Sprinkles in Beverly Hills. They have a CUPCAKE ATM, you guys. It's open 24 hours. You choose your cupcake and swipe your card and you watch the machine retrieve it and open to give you a little pink and brown box. I am now forseeing the majority of my earnings going towards gas in my truck, because this pretty much changes everything.
- Passing my performance assessment! Which means I am now an official cast member on Star Tours!
- Discovering a Code U (yes, urine) on my loading deck after launching a flight. Even worse, still 85% sure everyone I grouped in that line was an adult.
- Riding Indiana Jones three times in a row before it closes for 3 months and the cast members there beginning to call me by name.
- Crying during the "Baby Mine" song in our fireworks show, when Dumbo flies across the sky like Tinkerbell, and trying really hard to hide it. Pretty sure anyone in my family knows why that made me so emotional.
- The at least 4 different pronunciations of my name I have heard from guests so far. Maybe I should get a new nametag that spells it phonetically?
- Riding in the front seat on Splash Mountain at 9:30 pm. Pneumonia is not glamorous.
Awesome:
- Getting a kiss on the hand from JJ, a kid who has down sydnrome and visits Disneyland at least five days a week. It was his 20th birthday.
- Feeling my first earthquake! It was a 4.1, and we had to evacuate the entire building, on my first day. Southern California rocks.
- 3 cheese monte cristos from Cafe Orleans. Still in heaven.
- Proposal Story #1 (labeled as such because I'm sure I'll have more): my roommate and I watched the fireworks show from Fantasyland last night (which I don't recommend; you can't hear most of the music, and you get whiplash from trying to watch both the fireworks behind Toontown and the fireworks coming off the castle itself). After the show, we wanted to walk through the castle but they don't reopen it for 15 minutes afterwards because of pyrotechnic fallout, so I convinced her to ride Casey Jr. with me to kill some time. While we were circling the Storybook Land canals, I noticed one boat with only two people in it, plus their skipper. We passed out of their sight for about a minute, and when we came back around to Cinderella's castle, the man was on one knee in the boat, proposing to his girlfriend, who was crying and smiling. Pretty safe to say that was my highlight of the week. When we passed them once again, the whole train cheered.
- Deciding after leaving the park at 11:30 pm that we were in need of cupcakes, thus driving 40 miles to the original Sprinkles in Beverly Hills. They have a CUPCAKE ATM, you guys. It's open 24 hours. You choose your cupcake and swipe your card and you watch the machine retrieve it and open to give you a little pink and brown box. I am now forseeing the majority of my earnings going towards gas in my truck, because this pretty much changes everything.
- Passing my performance assessment! Which means I am now an official cast member on Star Tours!
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