When JTree and Fortress of Solitude said they wanted to come along with us to Disney, I admit I was slightly guarded in my response.

Disney isn’t for everyone. I get it. SharkBoy wrote about it. People who don’t get Disney stick out like a sore thumb (and most get escorted off property). I sort of felt that Fortress (FoSo) would probably be one of those people. Not that he’s stoic and completely uncaring. No. Usually those are the first to crack when they see the castle for the first time. I guessed that he might not go for the treacle that oozes from every nook and cranny, that it might bore/tire him after day 2 or so.

During our first ride together, on Pirates of the Caribbean, I looked over at FoSo. His face was like a mask frozen in naked wonder.

I relaxed after that.

And now, for your pleasure, pictures of people’s faces as they ride Expedition Everest. You really should enlarge them all. I love my new camera!

These last ones are my favorites:

Yes, this dumb ass didn't put his bar all the way down so he could pop up.

Sulfur.

Every morsel of food in Disney World is in one way or another, tainted with sulfur-infused swamp water. After 24 hrs you really notice it in your system.

I sort of liken it to sparkling pixie dust but that would be a bit of a sacrilegious thing since I’m pretty sure pixie dust doesn’t make your morning toilet smell like some century old dragon’s den.

I’m not saying the food is bad. Far from it. It’s just something you notice.

One thing I did notice this trip is how “gummed up” you could get after a couple days eating WDW food. I don’t know if all that sulfur is a chemical that induces constipation, but I do notice things don’t move as fast.

120 words all about poop.

Let’s change topics…

The best meal we had was without a doubt at Palo, the ship’s “fine dining” restaurant, where I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in one sitting. We started with easy cocktails, what seemed like 3 appetizers and mulled cucumber martinis and finished with the richest chocolate souffle I have ever tasted. As I type this my digestive tract is cringing with the memory, but not with fear. Sort of like a masochistic slave knowing that their master is coming and they’re pissed!

While that was probably up in my Top Five meals of my life, the best meal was on our last night. We managed to snag a table at the Liberty Tree Diner just before the evening parades/fireworks. My two friends and my husband studied the menu while I studied our faces. We were borderline exhausted. The week takes a lot out of you, running between parks; standing in line for 30 minutes for 2 minutes of excitement; patiently waiting for the last bus of the night to come take you back to your hotel so you can get up in 6 hours and do it all over again. Even though we’re bone dead, it was great to see that none of us were tired of each other.

Our waitress, lets call her Nicky, brings us fresh rolls and some whipped butter. Butter that somehow tastes so good, so sweet, that we struggle not to eat it all, knowing the big plates are coming soon.

Nicky returns and Josh asks what is in the butter that makes it so sweet.

“Oh I stuck my finger in it!” Nicky says with a smile. She reveals the secret ingredient to be honey. Nice! Nicky departs on her way.

A few seconds later, an older waitress sidles up next to Josh and in a lower conspirator register, says: “Nicky sure is sweet! I’ve been pining for her for over 6 years! She needs to give it up!”

We all laugh politely. The love-stricken waitress smiles a “You boys have a good night!” smile and wanders off.

We pause and look at each other. Then laugh in earnest.

“Were we just sussed out?!” I say.

“I don’t think it takes a Sherlock and a Watson to figure out we’re four homos,” says Sean.

“What the hell was that?!” says Josh.

“Wait. We’re party to unrequited love here at Liberty Tree! What do we do? Do we tell Nicky?”

We discuss this for a while. We evolve a joke that involves us trying to figure out if Nicky is actually a lesbian, by asking questions like: “So Nicky, when you finish your shift and get into your Subaru…” Or “That’s a fun costume you have on, Nicky… do you change into flannel at the end of the night?” We were so tired we crested the stupid jokes into laughing uncontrollably.

We barely noticed that we had over eaten again.

Barely.

Everyone has to eat.

On this trip, SharkBoy and I ate like Gods the entire time, except for the first day we entered into Disney’s warm embrace. The day of embarkation onto the ship, we were so excited we missed getting some lunch, thinking we’d drop our bags in the room and then run around enjoying the ship. But we dawdled so long they closed the buffet prior to departure. Then we couldn’t find the pizza/burger station. We wandered aimfully (the opposite of aimlessly since we had our cameras going on full) until our scheduled dinner at 8:30pm. I was running on pure adrenaline at that point. After that our entire Disney trip was food food food.

With Disney Cruise Lines you’re seated in different restaurants for every night you’re on the ship – you retain your table number, dining guests and waiters, but it’s in a different venue each night. Our first night was at Animator’s Palate, decorated like an L.A. sweatbox animator’s studio, replete with toys, models and light tables, but not so much on the sweaty animator smell. Our table was all adult, all women (SharkBoy and I were honourary women). Each lady had their quirky ways: one looked like Deirdre from Coronation Street, one photographed a tiny dragon with all her plates, one was “the sidekick” to the Dragon Lady, one was old and mostly silent and the last one I can’t for the life of me recall what her special quirk was. Miss Seasick? We got along, regardless and it was pleasant to eat with them, not like the “Jap Killing Vet” from our previous cruise. We had a good time trying to get a clear photo of Bruce the Shark every time he came up on the monitors (See Below).

The meals in the “regular” (yet extraordinary) dining rooms were superior in quality, yet smaller in portion than any other cruise we’ve been on, but we were encouraged to order seconds, so it was all good.

At the end of our first dinner, I’m pushing the remnants of my desert around on my plate, wishing that I could guilt-free order 2 more cheesecakes, when I notice that all my table-mates are staring past me with saucer-sized eyes. Over my shoulder comes what I thought was an actual Disney/Pixar character, the chef Gusteau from Ratatouille. Thing is, this guy was actually THAT FAT, complete with a huge front ass stomach that swayed hypnotically. Talent will out, I suppose…

Know that we got our Disney Dining Plan for free as part of an early booking bonus and we wound up not using all the “points” we were allotted. I would be disappointed if we had actually paid for it, but since we didn’t we didn’t shed a tear.

Sad Diner – Had to put her here, she was the only person not having fun: