Tag Archives: sayings

Disney: Excitement

Travel

IMG_0582Things blind you in the World. You lose site of your behaviour at 100%, 60%, 40% levels of excitement relavite to the heart-racing thing you’re exposed to, while discovering things in the Parks. You come around the corner and there’s Goofy in a cowboy hat! Goofy! OMFG! HI! Then you notice he’s not noticing you. Then you notice the line for photographs. 100, 60, 40. Just like the forced perspective of all the buildings along Main Street.

In this fete of excitement you discover things about people you love. Things that may make you either love them more or question the whole foundation of your relationship.

Case in point: Lunch at T-Rex Restaurant. We’re stuffed to the gills on massive burgers and nachos and we’re walking it off in the gift shop. A section in the back is a Build-a-Bear outlet that had been modified into “build a Dino” in keeping with the whole restaurant theme. Nice. I’ve never been in one and wandered in for a browse. I’m looking at the different “breeds” of dinos you can get when I hear a manly girl scream.

“Look at these cute shorts!!”

Yes. It’s SharkBoy and he’s holding up a pair of cargo pants, sized for a baby or a baby dino or someone with serious medical problems. He’s gushing like a prom queen stuck in the football team’s locker room. The only other time I’ve seen him excited like this was when we bought lightsabers at our first trip to Disney. He immediately picks out an orange Raptor and thrusts it into my hand to get the attendant to stuff it while he wanders the isles looking for cuter outfits.

Not sure if you’ve ever done the “Build A Bear/Dino” experience. The stuffing machine attendant gives you a cloth heart that you have to rub, blow on, give a kiss, make a wish and CRAM into the centre of your creation. Yeah, I had to do that part. I wished nobody was watching.

At the end of the whole process (including making a birth certificate – say hello to Kiki2, newly adopted by yours truly, Libido Suiddlygoot), SharkBoy discovers a tiny pair of cammo tighty whiteys that illicit a final peal of delight and an extra reach for his wallet. Now, those were cute. I admit it.

Did this experience soil our relationship? Hardly. It made me love him more. It’s a rare moment to see this kind of behaviour from him and it also makes me love Disney even more.

Disney: Transportation

Travel

img_0446I can confidently say the only way I have not arrived at a Disney theme park is by jet pack. Every other imaginable way has been done.

On foot? Walk it out! Bus? Yup. Rental car? Yup. Train? Woo woo! Monorail from the future? Por favor mantengase alejado de las puertas! On the back of a white tiger?

Don’t let’s be silly, now.

This is my second time renting a car for the week at Disney and I thought this time we could save some money by just using the bus system but I was quickly reminded that the car offers a freedom from bus-exhaustion, or, if you will, not having embarrassing pictures of yourself put up to Flickr of you asleep rubber necked, slack jawed and drooling. Plus it was a perk since the resort price included free parking at all Disney properties, meaning we could hop from park to park for free.

While driving isn’t as enviromentally sound as Uncle Walt would like, it beats having to experience “the Crush” – the scrum that happens every night when each park closes. Even though the busses run every two minutes, two minutes with a grumpy sleepy child, arm loads of souvenirs and an empty stomach stretches out to eternity. Still, it’s fun to see a child’s face after a day of experiencing a park: worn out, over stimulated and content.

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I’ve always loved the Monorail system at WDW and this time we tried every ride to sit in the front. All the drivers were gracious, chatty and friendly but one stood out. Missed his name but he had such a memorable southern drawl that we couldn’t hear 99% of what he said:

Me: “Did it take long for you to train to be a Monorail pilot?”

Pilot: “Habamemnrm… wermmsh ahslib. Ha! Ha hahaha! Mummminy mouse!”

All of us: Blank Stares.

He let us sit in the command chair  for photos before leaving the cockpit as long as “we didnmrnt touchmna stick, k?” Sharkboy is NOT touchmna stick, k? But his face says otherwise.

img_0916Like this picture? It’s basically what Luke saw when he climbed up the underside of an AT-AT walker. We were asked if there were any “rides” at Disney Hollywood Studio, but that’s going to be a SharkBoy post. Keep your eyes peeled.

The largest ride at Magic Kingdom in terms of showy-ness and “fake” transportation would have to be the paddle boat. I say “fake” because it only goes forward, constrained to a submerged track in the “lake”. Discovering this after riding it for the first time was a bit disappointing because I always fantasized about the River Boat Captain going mental after a day of looping the Lands and ramming the boat into Tom Sawyer’s Island for kicks.

Ironically for this post, the WDW Tomorrowland Transit Authority People Mover was closed during our stay. It’s one of my favorite decompression rides:  it doesn’t offer any thrill other than a calming view, much like Carosel of Progress is my favorite “nap ride”.

Disney 2009 – Dining

Travel


img_0904I have nothing new to report about Disney, per se. Yes it’s still the pinnacle of customer service. Yes the rides were just as fun. Yes, Stacey was the first person you saw when you turned on the hotel TV. It was all the same yet the familiarity was like going to a friend’s house who has 1000% better home electronics than you do. 

Not much has changed since my last vacation there, except for a few tweaks (for the better) to their services and a couple new rides. I won’t repeat myself for the sake of old time readers. Know that while there wasn’t any bed-jumping videos of excitement, the emotion of being there was just as strong.

Collectively between three cameras (not including the Photopass service Disney provides), I estimate we took close to 2500 pictures. I’ll be posting some here but the brunt of them from my camera will be on Flickr for your perusal. Don’t expect captions for all!

Now, on to the subject at hand: Food!

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Know that we had absolutely NO bad meals on any of the Disney properties (including third party chain eateries). That isn’t to say all our meals were perfect: when we discovered that Oh Boys! on Colonial Drive in Orlando had been closed for a while (update your website you dicks! That includes you, Google Earth!), we motored back to Downtown Disney and still managed to have a great meal – at twice the price, unfortunately. My only complaint is that all manner of food at Disney World is shockingly expensive. While we were eating in moderate to “classy” places like Coral Reef Restaurant at EPCOT (blackened catfish!) or The Crystal Palace (Character Breakfast with Eyore!) at Magic Kingdom, I still dreaded the bill at the end of the meal.

The only time I noticed a staff, err… Cast Member not entirely in tune with a high level of good service output was at the Beaches And Cream Ice Cream Parlour. See video below. I think this was her one thousand time serving up this kind of sundae just on this day, to screaming over-sugared children, made evident by the robotic delivery of the room-stopping announcement (but she does save herself at the end with the “young” comment, blessherheart):

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The most surreal meal we had was at The Grand Floridian – Afternoon Tea in the Garden View Room. The room was Mary Poppins Perfect: vaulted ceilings, Victorian styling and proper china tea pots. No fart jokes here. I found the atmosphere a bit intimidating, like walking into a $100/plate restaurant wearing Old Navy. Actually, that’s exactly what I did. But the waitress never made me felt like I had. Her timing was infallible and her service top notch.

The other patrons made me think of bored, rich  housewives having to actually socially interact with their immaculately dressed children while the husbands were off avoiding their kids playing golf and the nanny had the day off. Oh no, no rides for these tykes! They had to enjoy liver sandwiches with no crusts and were ordered to sit on their hands until the meal was finished.

At least that’s what I imagined going on at the table beside us.

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At one point Sharkboy decided to let loose with a bawdy, off colour joke and proceeded to laugh heartily. Suddenly he stops and says in his best educated voice:  “Pardon me. Ha. Ha. Ha.” We all snickered like kids in school.

Our last meal was a pizza on our hotel bed, tired out of our minds from 9 days of walking, riding, laughing and just having fun. It was the perfect last meal for all the sensory overloading.

Countdown To Disney – Cat Sitting

Travel

I hand over the apartment keys to my 18 yr old niece. She looks like she’s going to explode with excitement – more excited than I, now that we’re less than a day away from leaving. We’re giving her full run of our place (and a couple of her friends) the two weekends we’re away. She’s going to rock out on Guitar Hero and use the Wii Fit to measure …things.

“I’m more excited about cooking for myself!” She says.

People, get the nerdiest person you know to babysit your cat/apartment. I say that in love: she’s the coolest nerd person under 30 I know and I trust her judgment implacably. Listening to her pre-university stories makes me young again. Plus the stories aren’t littered with drinking or drug paraphernalia, so it’s all good.

It took us about 20 minutes to explain to her how to turn on the TV. Da, who is also going to come in from time to time to groom the cat, didn’t bother to listen in. Too many buttons.

The Lesson: First for Everything

Personal Bits

Two upper middle class, housework-shunning, career women sit down to lunch, order martinis and the topic of their children come up. A common complaint is discovered and a plan is hatched.

When I was 13 (ish), my mother announced I would be going out on a date. Imagine the internal spit take that generated. My mother… the matchmaker! I was appalled for a moment at the thought of her talking about my inability to socialize with strangers. And my social ineptitude… Wait… What? With a girl?

Holyshitwaitaminnit… A date with a girl??! Would I have to kiss her?

At this time I had already had sex with a man. I knew it was right, my hard wired brain was just doing what it was genetically told to do. But somewhere in my chest, a voice said “Oh fuck it! Give it a whirl!” So when you hear earfucks saying “Gay is learned!” or “Gay can be behaviorally eradicated from your system!” punch those fuckers in the nuts for me. It makes me physically ill to think that people can “cure” you by rote (or disfiguring electroshock). I digress. I decided to give it a whirl, despite the huge fear that was in my goolies.

She was my age and slightly gangly and while she was not the most popular girl in school, she was smart. Near genius smart for her age. I was more intimidated by that, than her sex. My mom stood just outside of earshot (which, by the way is physically impossible) while I made the call:

“Hello Dorcas…?”

Let’s stop right there. I am sure the reason Dorcas was so intelligent and wise beyond her years was purely based on the need to constantly explain to people her name was not a vehicle for child-like slurs. Get it out of your system now, I’m sure she had heard them all well before she was 5 years old in numerous playground and recess gatherings. Dork Ass; Door Knob; Dork Face; Dumb Ass etc. Years after our date, I had seen her verbally rip the skin off of some drunk fucker who called her out about her name, during a illegal teen drinking party. While her words were venomous, her eyes were dead set and almost blasé. She had her name defense response honed to an art.

Of course, her name was the first thing we talked about on our date. I thought I asked politely but my question still riled her. “It’s from the bible,” she told me, “Not that I’m religious or read it at all.” We then tore into how embarrassing our mothers were: from naming conventions to matchmaking. We were friends then.

But throughout the evening there was a voice in my head. “You gonna kiss her when this is over?”

I admit that the night was a blur. I do know we went to Star Wars. I do remember her telling me that hand holding was not required. I do remember at the end of the evening, after walking her home, standing at her door, (thankfully without any parent in view – we lived in an age when 13 year olds could walk the streets unattended) we did kiss. I think I kissed her teeth.

We became friends after that. Like “holy Christ we will never, EVER talk of this again” kind of friends. When Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back came out, we went on another “date” much to the amazement of our parents. I remember my Mom reeling like being hit by a slap when I mentioned Dorcas and I were going out on another date, three years after the last. We laughed hysterically at the end of the evening when I kissed her hand.

Two upper middle class, housework-shunning, career women sit down to lunch, order martinis and awkwardly avoid talk of their children.

Accelerate to Attack Speed

General

A while back I got a message while on Bear411 from Doug (jedicub) who complimented me on my makeshift Jedi costumes in my profile. His profile contained a few interesting pictures (Sigh. Make the dirty jokes now in your head, please): a couple were of him wearing a “movie accurate” Red Squadron uniform from Star Wars: A New Hope.

Admittedly I was apprehensive in speaking to Doug, due to all the joking around I’ve made about fans who dress up and go to comic book conventions. Though, I have mellowed having gone to the last 3 here in Toronto, and most of my finger pointing laughter has evolved into admiration, especially for a well thought out, well made costume. Plus, if you look close enough most of the guys with exceptional outfits are bearish, but that’s neither here nor there. Doug is one of those people I admire because of his tenacity towards his passion.

In speaking to Doug, I get the sense that, yes, he is a superfan (he belongs to a group called the London Rogues) but his obsession for Star Wars is a love borne out of years of cultivation. “Cult” being the operative word here. I emailed him a few questions and he’s happily answered back:

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How old were you when you first saw Star Wars? Where were you? What were your impressions?
I was seven or eight and my dad took all three of us kids to see it. We were living in Toronto at the time. I had seen commercials on TV and I thought it was going to be scary with all the aliens, and such. However, I loved it. I remember my dad telling me how it had everything – the Tarzan swing, the old west shoot out, the duel. I just thought it was awesome. Little did I know how much the Star Wars franchise was going to inform my life. Like most kids at that age, I got hooked on collecting the Kenner action figures. My interest in Star Wars waned in my teenage years, but when I was in my mid-twenties, I got back into collecting with a renewed passion. I would say, though, that I’m a Star Wars fan, and not fanatic. I do realize it’s a work of fiction. 🙂

When did you get the idea that you could make this costume?
I had made a few Star Wars costumes over the years. Mainly these were hastily put together things for Halloween, though on a couple occasions I made costumes for a public event. For instance, I was asked to assist at a Star Wars day at the public library, and I put together a Han Solo costume for that.
In 2008 I put together another Star Wars costume. I had picked up an orange jumpsuit at a thrift store years ago, and that pretty much made my mind up as to what character I’d be. I put together a somewhat OK version of the X-wing pilot costume for just a few bucks, picking up remnant fabric, etc. I looked at some online resources for ideas, which is how I found out about what I would describe as “movie accurate” costumes. These people pay very close attention to detail. My Halloween costume wasn’t going to be nearly that good.

How long have you been collecting/making parts for the outfit?
After Halloween, I decided that I could transition the costume into something more accurate, with some money, and some time. If money were no object, I could’ve put it together fairly quickly, but I decided to change the costume one piece at a time. My first acquisition was in December 2008 when I bought a helmet. I found someone online who makes vacu-formed replicas of the actual Vietnam-era flight helmet used in the movies. Since that time, I’ve been making upgrades to the costume a bit at a time – boots, jumpsuit, etc. I joined an online forum called The Rebel Legion, which is a Star Wars costuming fan group. Chatting with people there has helped me track down many of the pieces.

Any clues to where you get your parts? Just like most of the original Star Wars props were common household items, are any pieces just regular every-day items around the home?
The ejection harness was the easiest to do, since it’s just silver/grey webbing that you can buy at most fabric stores. There are patterns online which are easy to follow. The belt buckle used in the movie is a roll pin buckle which the British navy used. You can find them online – if you know what they’re called.
As with the helmet, I ended up seeking out a few people who make replica parts which they vacu-form, machine, or cast themselves. And I bought a few pieces on Ebay. Here’s a breakdown of the costume and the resources I used:
Helmet – Richie’s Armor (I added some detailing)
Jumpsuit – Costumebase (with some tailoring by me)
Plastic Chest Box & Hose – Mr. Bojangles (Rebel Legion member)
Machined Aluminum Arm Tools – Elvis Trooper
Flak Vest – Originally I made this with a remnant and some edging, but I’m having someone with more talent make me a more accurate one with proper buckles, tubes, etc. It looks cool in photos.
Resin Commpad – Reyor (Rebel Legion member)
Leather Motorcycle Gauntlets – Botach Tactical
Replica German WW2 Boots – justwalk2008 (Ebay seller)
Belt Buckle – Mr. Bojangles
Leg Flares / Strap and Belt Mini-flares – darthhair (Ebay seller)

Where was the last place you wore it out, that is, the most recent incarnation of the costume?
I wore it out this afternoon in fact. I belong to a Star Wars fan group in London called London Rogues. Each May we host a community event to celebrate Star Wars. Today a few of us went to the campus of the University of Western Ontario to promote it – putting up posters, handing out flyers, and posing for photos with the student paper. It was fun.

Any future plans for something else?
Our group enters the Santa Claus Parade here in London. Although I haven’t been in it yet, I’ve been warned that it’s wet and cold. I may “Hoth up” my costume by making a jacket and adding winter gloves. Recently I’ve been working on a Darth Maul costume. I have most of it sewn already, but I still need to put together the belt, and find the appropriate boots. I’m thinking of doing this for Halloween. Who doesn’t love Darth Maul?

Favorite Star Wars movie?
The Empire Strikes Back.

If not Jar Jar Binks, who is your least favorite character? Most favorite?
Sorry, Jar Jar. Meesa no like you.
I’d have to say that Princess Leia is my favorite character – though Han is a close second.

Philosophizing Over That Stone

Celebs and Media

stone_destinyAn interesting synchronicity is occurring between art and real life: The movie The Stone of Destiny is soon to be released and the reenactment of the Plains of Abraham isn’t soon to be happening any time soon, well at least not on the actual ground it took place on.

Hear me out: Both instances are about a chunk of earth, both recall emotions of loss and embarrassment, both political in nature.

In the case of the movie, I can see how our Scottish heroes would want to return that symbol of power, no matter how faded, to it’s former residence – everyone loves an underdog and lets face it, Scottish accents are still bloody hot since Trainspotting. This is of course polar opposite to the feelings of Quebec Federalists who are kiboshed by a strong Separatist movement, blocking the reenactment. Every story needs a villain and in both cases, the victorious English wind up looking like Caesar-like thugs who keep their subservient masses on short tame leashes.

Then I think, “What if Canada was invaded and had some symbol removed from it, would I care enough to dare steal back?”

I’m still thinking about that.

Not being a sport fan I can recognize that many would say Mr Stanley’s Cup or some such figure. But I doubt that, since sports fans were so quick to roll over when the Hockey Night In Canada song was sold off for a song.

The CN Tower? Way too involved.

Rick Mercer? Hmmm, no. He’d annoy his way out of his captor’s grasp and make his way back to us.

The plucky Bonhomme? Close. At least he’s as Canadian as Mickey Mouse is to the US. See English Canada doesn’t really have a symbol, we’ve got most of ours from Quebec or Eastern Canada, so I can’t really think of anything.

Regardless, I would defend her if I had to. But only like Red Dawn, only if the attacking army actually interrupted my iPhone usage.

Howard Hughes Invented a Bra For Me

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

I just scanned one of my flickr friend’s weekend pics and it made me a bit nostalgic for the days when SharkBoy and I use to run around like spies, tearing up the town.

However, would I say that the honeymoon is over, headed into our third year? I would say no.

Yesterday, SharkBoy took me to a movie. That in itself sounds staid but it was a mystery movie.

We were up early and our chores done and he got me showered and dressed for the early shows at AMC ($6 before noon!). We get to the theatre and I think “Cool! JCVD! That will be fun.” But no, he instructs me to purchase Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

“Serious?”

“We’re getting into the Disney spirit,” He beams.

I can’t love him any more.

At 1130am, we had the whole theatre to ourselves. We made loud comments at the screen like Howard Hughes screaming at Jane Russell’s tits.

Annoying? It Is…

Distractions

Oxford wordsmiths release to the wilds a list of their top ten most annoying sayings:

1 – At the end of the day
2 – Fairly unique
3 – I personally
4 – At this moment in time
5 – With all due respect
6 – Absolutely
7 – It’s a nightmare
8 – Shouldn’t of
9 – 24/7
10 – It’s not rocket science

I would have to add a couple there:

It is what it is: What? Could you please give me a more vapid response to any situation that you might be trying to fluff off? No? Well then. It is what it is.

That’s what I’m talking about: I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening. Probably because you need to punctuate your points with useless words and I trailed off…

Oh and TXT speak is officially a sign of trailer trash. Expensive Smart phones now auto-correct or fill that shit in so if you’re LOL-ing or telling me “L8r!” then stop being a lazy fuck.