Roller, Roller Baby

What better way to spend a Saturday evening than at the local county Entertainment Palace? This place is a mecca for teeny boppers, families, young adults, and quite possibly perverts. There is a diner, a pub, a movie theater, an arcade, a bowling alley, and a skating rink. We asked my daughter which form of entertainment she would like to partake in this fine evening and she choose arcade games and roller skating.

So we started off the evening by playing Dance, Dance Revolution, Skeet Ball, and Hoops Away. Fortunately, during this part of the evening we didn't run the risk of broken limbs or bruised body parts. But that would soon change....

....As we moved to the skating rink. Famous last words :"It's just like riding a bike. It'll come back to you." I tried to convince my husband that we would be fine after sensing his apprehension and doubt. We rented the classic roller skates instead of the roller blades. What can I say? We're old school like that. I can recall skating parties from elementary school with the tunes of Journey, Styx and REO Speedwagon urging us to skate around and around the rink dodging disco lights and other skaters. Unfortunately, we didn't get to hear that kind of music while skating away in 2006. Also unfortunately are the sustained injuries listed below:

2 smooshed fingers
1 bruised knee that can be sliced off and country-fried it's so tender
1 sore shoulder
1 sore arm/elbow
other assorted bruises and soreness

I have come to the conclusion that roller skating was much better left in the past. After about 15 minutes my toes were numb from the skates. I felt rickety and uncoordinated -not at all like Olivia Newton John's performance in Xanadu which made skating look so effortless. My kneecap absorbed about 200 pounds of extreme pressure- not once, but twice after losing balance and falling -which more closely resembled roller derby as skaters whizzed past me at tops speeds. One guy slowed down enough to ask me if I was okay. So I must have appeared to have seriously injured myself, hence the concern. My husband was chastised by the skate rink referee for holding on and stopping at the side wall of the rink because it would impede the other skaters. He said that they should much rather have him hanging on the side of the rink as opposed to being splaid out in the middle of the rink which would be much more likely to impede and endanger the other skaters.

All in all, we probably should have bowled. The risk of injury would have been much lower.

Suffice it to say, we are extremely lucky that the trip to the Entertainment Palace wasn't followed by a trip to the Emergency Room.

Set the Controls for the Heart of a Daughter

First I'll start by saying that I don't know why my post titles usually are knock-offs of some song title. I really shouldn't do that. I feel kind of guilty -and cheesy and unoriginal to some extent. I just can't seem to come up with clever titles all my own, so I resort to using a song title and changing the words to suit my post. Phew! Now that I have gotten that off my chest I can get to the "Heart of the Matter" (OMG, there I go again. At least that time I kept it in it's original form. And technically it's not a post title. You're welcome in advance Mr. Henly)

I never thought of myself as a controlling person. I am waaaaaay laid back and easy going and footloose and fancy free. I don't mind being aimless and unfocused. There's so much out there to experience, I can't settle on just one way. I don't need "to do" lists to help me accomplish stuff. If it gets done it gets done, if it doesn't oh well, there's always tomorrow. I feel right at home in clutter. That's why there is a stack of credit card offers, and old bills, and receipts on my kitchen counter right now. I have no intention whatsoever of applying for any of these cards. I have already paid the old bills, and you can't seriously think I would save receipts for IRS purposes.

However, I am a self-reflective person and I have recently come to realize that I can be controlling when it comes to my offspring.

This past week my daughter worked very hard on a St. Patrick's Day card for her friend who lives down the street from us. It was a beautiful work of art with patchwork colors and flowers and hearts and shamrocks and rainbows and words like "CUTE" and "PRETTY" splashed all around her masterpiece. Hallmark would be proud that my daughter wanted to start a trend with sending St. Patrick's Day cards. Well, imagine my daughter's horror when she remembered on Friday night at about 9:30 that she hadn't delivered her card yet. It was too late to play Mr. Postman, so I told her that she could deliver it on Saturday. I should know by now that the possibily of extreme dramatics runs high in my household. But I was still taken aback by the display of tears that resulted from the seriousness of this situation.

But honestly, I must confess. I had ulterior motives in delaying the delivery. Secretly, I didn't really want her to deliver the card.

Why, cruel hearted woman would you not want your daughter to deliver such a heart felt gift to a friend?

Well, because I feared how her act of kindness and thoughfulness would appear to others. That maybe she would come across as needy or crazy stalker or just plain silly. And that is when it occurred to me. I need to see this not through an adult's eyes, but rather through the innocent eyes of a 7 year old child.

And then like an epiphany I realized that when I try to guide (insert- control) my daughter's homework, creative writing, class speech, clothing etc. I am doing it NOT because I'm a controlling person. My behavior, thank goodness, is not motivated by the desire to control her. But rather it comes from a much better place. A place where Mama Lion would rip to shred anyone who would dare harm her cub. It is simply out of protection that I do this. Protection from the world's insensitivities and injustices. Protection from the laughter and the teasing.

And with that I also realized that I cannot protect her from that forever. Which is actually kind of bittersweet. It breaks my heart that she will be laughed at, called names, excluded from friendships, rejected by future boyfriends, and that she will have to endure other unpleasant experiences that are inevitably part of growing up. My only hope is that I have given her the tools and the resiliency to overcome whatever is thrown her way. So, my heart will not only ache, but it will also swell at times.

Mama promises to support you wholeheartedly in all that do from now on. As long as you're not planning on wearing that pink tutu, Tinkerbell flip flops, and sequined sun visor to your Prom.

Should I Be Worried?

Today's post will be brought to you today by the letter W.

And no, I don't mean to sound like it was influenced in the least by the current commander in chief- who I believe is really a marionette named Punch. Poor, poor Judy. That would be us-the American people. I've got to get a jab in any chance I get.

Seriously though, the "W" actually refers to Worry Wart for the purposes of this post. And since I was an English major I just had to find the etymology of this term. It's first recorded use was in 1956 from a character in a the comic strip "Out of the Way" by cartoonist J. R.Williams according to The Online Etymology Dictionary-what would we do without you Google??? (sidenote: someone has got to teach me how to post proper links in this blog) The character evidently caused others to worry, however it's more common use is to describe one who worries too much themselves.

Maybe there is a genetic link to worrying because many members of my family are afflicted with this disorder. My Dad was a big worrier, and so is my Mom, and my sister, and me and probably my brother too.

Anyway, there have been a couple of things bothering me so I thought I would share.

Should I be worried....

•about the small pimple-like bump that has been on my shin for about 8 years?

•that my 7 year old daughter's favorite TV shows are "How I Met Your Mother" and "America's Next Top Model"?

•that my credit card is maxed out and charges an astronomical interest rate on the balance that never seems to diminish despite hefty payments each month?

•about the small crack in my living room ceiling?

•that I spend about 50% of my work day on-line engaging in activity that is not work-related?

•about my strenuous and demanding TV watching regiment and the bag of Cadbury mini eggs I devoured while watching?

•that my hard water is turning all my white laundry into a reddish brown color?

•that my 20 year high school reunion will be next year?

•that my gray hairs are becoming more and more noticable?

•that they say beef stays in your colon for 7 years?

•that I have not prepared my last will and testament?

•about global warming, even though it doesn't really exist?

•that I don't have retirement account, a college savings account for my daughter, or enough life insurance?

•that our government can spy on us?


Finally, should I worried that I'm actually not that worried, at least right now, despite the aforementioned scenarios?

Probably, but I would rather the worrying manifest itself in the form of an ulcer. Then I would have something to worry about.

Battle of the Thermostat

I have something that I want to get off my chest.Well maybe it's more truthful to say that I'm really searching for some validation as well. You know what I mean-valididation that my position is the correct one and my husband is being an idiot. (Notice I did not say my husband IS an idiot, just that he sometimes plays one on TV. You might remember him from such films as "Honey, I Can't Find My Car Keys", "The Great Toilet Seat Incident", and "Undewear, the Buffalo Roams")

Anyway, last night my husband and I became engaged in a healthy debate. Married couples are allowed to do this and many will tell you that it is the key to keeping the spark alive. You know what they say about make up sex, don't you? Now this debate did not arise to level that begs hot, sweaty make up sex. Nonetheless it was a debate, a discussion, a difference of opinons, an argument. You pick the noun.

I came home from work yesterday to an extremely cold house. This after spending the day in the Arctic Tundra otherwise known as my office. For some reason my office building operations cannot get the temperature right. Now we have had a spell of warm weather, so I understood the need for the air conditioner. But the unit never turned off all day yesterday. It kept blowing an Arctic blast of freon laced air from the vent on the floor of my office. I ended up closing the vent and putting a trash can over it to block the remaining air that was able to escape the clenched jaws of the vent.

So when I got home and noticed the frigid conditions that have enveloped my living room, I look at the thermostat. I knew that when I left that morning I had intentionally set the thermostat to 74 degrees. It was now set on 70 degrees and was blasting cool air like a walk in freezer. I set it back to 74 degrees and criticized my husband's thermostat adjustment, which thus began the debate.

Our disagreement was two-fold.

Fold #1-We disagreed on what room temperature is. My position is that room temperature is 72 degrees. My husband claims that 70 degrees is proper room temperature. Granted I don't think there is an scientific ruling on the official room temperature, however I think most would agree that it's 72 degrees. My husband's argument is that 70 is a round number, so he must be right. WRONG! Now, he may feel more comfortable at 70 degrees and would like that to be HIS measurement of room temperature. But that doesn't mean that most other warm blooded human beings prefer room temperature to be a balmy 72 degrees.

Fold #2-The second part of our argument involved the proper setting of the thermostat. I can't tell you how many times I have tried to convince my husband that his thermostat adjustments do not make sense. His strategy when he is too hot or too cold is to overcompensate the adjustment of the thermostat temperature.

For example, yesterday when he got home he was feeling rather warm, so he turned the thermostat down much lower than his actual desired temperature. His rationale is that if he sets it lower it will arrive at that temperature quicker than if he simply set it to a reasonably desired temperature. I have tried to explain that regardless of what temperature you set the thermostat on, it is not going to reach that temperature any faster. The unit will just continue to run and run until it reaches that thermostat setting.

I also told him if he looked at the power bill each month he would understand my sensitivity to this issue, as well as the goosebumps upon goosebumps that have set up camp on my arms. To which his reply was that this was his house and he was going to be comfortable even if it costs him an extra 16 cents a day. My point was that since we have ceiling fans, we can make some minor adjustments without sacrificing comfort. I have to say that I am not one of those people who are always cold, so I don't think I'm not being unreasonable. And I'm far from a thrifty person, so that's not really the point either.

The delicate balance of a marriage hinges on a couple's inclination and ability to compromise and rise above petty arguments. It's not about whose right and whose wrong, as long as ultimately HE knows which way the wind blows. And in my house, trust me, that wind just might be blowing icicles.

Canine Behavior

Being a student of Human Development naturally I am intrigued by human behavior. And now since we got a puppy, I have learned a great deal about canine behavior. Since Pavlov did his early experiments of operant conditioning on dogs, it is understandable that one can make the leap between human and canine behavior. You remember the bells and the salivating from high school Psychology, don't you?

Now I admit that I am not a firm supporter of behaviorism in human beings as the theory that best explains human behavior and development. Granted humans can be trained (conditioned, if you will) to act a certain way based on a particular stimulus or set of stimuli. Positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement-we use those tactics on young children when we discipline them. I suppose the overall goal is to get our children to behave in a way that is in line with the norms of the society that we live in. By rewarding good behavior or punishing bad behavior we are conditioning our children to act a certain way.

I believe that human behavior is so complex that it's impossible to explain all behavior in terms of conditioning. However this past weekend I was witness to a human being exhibiting classic canine type behavior which makes me wonder how removed we really are from canine tendencies.

It was a lovely weekend that involved two live shows by the John Cowan Band. I have written about Mr. Cowan before and I can't say enough wonderful things about him as a person, his singing, and the band of musicians he has assembled around him. All I will say is that they are truly magical. Anyway, the first show on Friday was close to home, but the one on Saturday was in Ashland, Virginia. We drove up to Ashland Saturday afternoon and checked into the Henry Clay Inn which is situated right next door to the venue that the show was being held at.

First I need to explain that my husband is an audiophile. This involves the collection of LPs, CDS from downloads and trades as well as the plethora of DAT (digital) tapes that he has amassed from live music taping. He has recording equipment that allows him to be able to tape many of the shows we see.

DISCLAIMER: Before the RIAA brings suit against us, I must explain that most of the bands we see allow taping to take place at their shows and the downloads were all perfectly legal.

Anyway, John Cowan is one of the artists that allows the taping of his shows. We have asked him before and his answer has been "Knock yourself out!" Not that I want to assume what his feelings are about live music taping, but I would venture a guess that he believes similarly to Jerry Garcia that live music belongs to the people. In fact Jerry often was quoted as saying that once he was done with playing the song it belonged to the listener and he didn't care what happened to it afterwards. It would seem that making music for these fellows is not about profits or record executives mass marketing their music to a certain demographic. Instead the live music experience is what is important and the audience is an important part of that experience. In fact many bands that are popular today, owe their popularity to live music taping which serves as a means for increasing their fanbase.

Well, when my husband showed up at the Coffee and Tea house that the show was being held and he started to set up his microphones and tape recorder in the back of the room, out of the way of other patrons. Little did he know that the club employed or is possibly being run by a Doberman Pincher disguised as a bipedal human being. The guy basically attacked my husband by first rudely and harshly asking him who he thought he was setting up there and where did he get permission to do so.

Now, my husband is a rational and non-confrontational kind of guy. I have known many tapers from over the years and I must admit there are some that are elitist and believe they are entitled to the privilege of taping, and frankly act like assholes about it. My husband is not like them, I assure you. Therefore, my husband responds to the guy by saying he was truly sorry for being presumptuous for setting up without asking the house. He just assumed that since the artist supported it that he thought it would be okay with the venue. In fact, in all the venues we have ever attended this has NEVER been a problem before, as long as the artist okays it. The guy still did not relent in his attack and told my husband that it was impossible to have gotten the artist's permission because he was not even there yet. To which my husband replied that we had taped him last night with the support of the band and we had taped him when he played here back in August and there had been no problem then. The guy finished his territorial barking by stating that he had a good mind to shut him down, but he did not. So my husband continued setting up.

After he was set up he offered an olive branch to Mr. Pincher who was still very hesitant about shaking hands with my husband. Again my husband apologized for the misunderstanding and offered him a copy of the show. Mr. Pincher did not want that but seemed to soften a little. He finished the conversation by snipping that he still had to clear it with the band-which we knew was not a problem in the least.

His behavior just seemed so canine-like. The territorial nature, the viscious bark, the stubborn relent. He was simply protecting his territory in the best way he knew how, barking loud and mean. In the dog world, it would have ended with them sniffing each other's butts and hopefully he would eventually realized that there was no threat from this confrontation and then they would rollick in the grass. But since we pose as human beings, my husband tried to smooth it over with kind words and good will. He certainly doesn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the privilege of being able to continue to tape live music and he is a stand up guy.

Other than this situation the weekend was fantastic. The Henry Clay Inn is very hospitable and I will certainly stay again if the chance arose. The train runs right in front of the Inn with the cutest train depot right there. We went for a little walk after the show through the Randolph-Macon College campus. We kept hearing loud music and wanted to check out the party. The music turned out to be a frat party that we certainly weren't going to be granted entrance to from the looks of the bouncers on the lawn. The band was playing a mean "Whipping Post" though.During the walk, we got a "Nice ass!" shout out from boys in a passing car. The sad thing is that I'm not sure if that was directed at me or my husband.

Nonetheless, our tails were wagging as we headed back to our room at the Inn.

An Embarrassing Moment Involving Panties, Housework and a UPS Delivery Man

Everyone has embarrassing moments don't they? It just seems like the ones that happen to you are more mortifying than the ones that happen to other people.

Obviously there are also degrees of embarrassment that can be measured based on certain variables. For instance, who else is present when the embarrassing moment takes place is critical to the degree of embarrassment one experiences. Like in 7th grade when my best friend and I were walking down the hall and one of the popular 8th grade boys told my friend that her zipper was down. She was pretty darn embarrassed because when you're 13 and one of the popular kids points out that your fly is down you can't help but feel like you want to absorb into the nearest wall.

Furthermore, embarrassment can be enhanced when it involves certain bodily functions or displays of nudity or partial nudity. Maybe Tara Reid and Lindsay Lohan are not embarrassed when their boobs decided to escape. It just might get you an Oscar afterall. And I also know that some men have no problem with passing gas in public. They will let it rip and just grin as if it is some expression of manhood or something. Or worse they may encourage you to pull their finger in anticipation for the fart symphony. Others can be quite embarrassed when a fart occurs around others and you have no way of covering it up. I read Dooce's entry today and she covers this subject quite comically.

Peeing your pants is another embarrassing experience. Or getting your period when wearing white pants. Both of these things have happened to me, so I know all too well the sting of embarrassment.

The pee your pants incident was well covered up though to avoid extreme embarrassment and to this day I'm pretty proud of the quick thinking that resulted in less embarrassment-it was trade off you see. When I was in high school, my sister and I were over a boy's house that I really liked (in hindsight it was a mistake but at the time I was quite taken with this fellow and so wanted to impress). One of this boy's friends came over who was a bit of a clown so he was trying rather hard to make us laugh. The reason that I finally succumbed to laughter involved a stuffed banana that was posing as penis. For some reason this was hilarious, go figure. I tried very hard to control my bladder but when you've been drinking wine coolers and some boy is pretending a stuffed banana is his penis, well you'd have to be made of stone to resist the laughter. Nevertheless, I peed my pants.

What to do?

Since it is understood through the evolution of our species, that women always go to the bathroom together I grabbed my sister, headed to the bathroom, and told her of my dilemma. The solution was quite simple. I had to cover up a huge wet spot on the back of my pants, so what better way to cover it up than with another wet spot. A plan was hatched. I would cover up the pee spot by pretending to fall in the toilet. Don't ask me how this brillant idea occurred to us. I don't even remember whose idea it was in the first place, but I was going with it. I'm pretty sure they bought it and I was able to borrow a pair of shorts and dry my pants in the dryer for a perfectly justifiable reason. For some reason falling in the toilet with your pants on is much less embarrassing than peeing them.

The White Pants period incident happened at Dodgers spring training baseball game. Why did I wear white shorts anyway? It's evitable that when I wear white I will spill something on it. Whether it is a spagetti meatball or salad dressing, it will end up on my white clothing. Anyway when I went to the bathroom is when I noticed that my period decided to come that day and at full flow. The boy I was attending the game (the same one from the pee the pants moment) refused to leave the game early to spare me the embarrassment and discomfort of having gushes of blood splotched on the back of white shorts. All I remember was walking back to the car by myself carrying a bag of peanuts to cover up my blood stained butt. Another embarrassing moment and I still lived to tell.

So this brings me back to a more recent embarrassing moment. I stayed home from work on Monday to recuperate from my weekend trip to Florida. So as to justify my day off, I decided to do some housework. Oftentimes when doing housework I become rather heated. So it is not unreasonable to expect that clothing may be shed during the course of the housework duties. This day I had started vacuuming but soon began to break a sweat. I was home all by myself today so I thought what the hell, I would just shed my pants and continue the vacuuming. I start to vacuum the steps and the thought occurs to me that if anyone was peering in one of the windows that flank my front door that they would get a real show. Here I was bending over vacuuming in my underwear and exposing myself quite indiscreetly. But I wasn't expecting anyone today so I continued my chores. I then got a weird feeling like someone was watching and then heard a creaky noise on my front porch. I turn around and look down the staircase because my ass had been facing the front door and what do I see but a UPS delivery man dropping off a package right at the window next to the front door. By the time I turned around he was leaving. So I really don't know if he got a glimpse, a full blown stare, or if he was totally oblivious and missed the burlesque show that was I was unknowingly performing.

If he did see anything he probably has either requested another delivery route or gouged his eyes out.

Or worse, I'm now the butt of the jokes that the UPS delivery men tell each other after their travels.

All in the Same Day

Do you have a relative or friend who has an annoying saying? You know what I mean, some inane motto that you can always count on them saying. My father-in-law has one of those and that is the inspiration for the title of this post. My husband told me when we first met that his dad would always say "All in the same day" anytime they came home from an outing. I'm not really sure what it means other than "we jam packed all that fun stuff into just one day and now we're home." The confusing part is that he sometimes says it after a weekend trip or a week long trip to a foreign country. For my husband and me, it soon became one of our inside jokes. We can predict when it's gonna be said and we inevitably kick each other or give each other a knowing look when it's finally uttered. So this post is going to catch you up on what's been going on all in the same day.

It has been some time since I have had time to post. As you already know from my last post, we got a puppy the week before last and she has been keeping us very busy. I was worried after the first weekend with her because she liked to bite and would take a helluva a long time to do her business, except when she snuck away and did it in the corner of my dining room when I wasn't looking. She was quick as a flash that time. Despite the challenges, things have been going very well with her and she is settling into our family. And just like motherhood I have come to realize that I still do most of the work. However the upside is that I don't have to vacuum and sweep near as much as I used to. This doggie vaccum will sniff and lick up whatever comes across her path regardless of edibility.

I also got a haircut! Yes, I finally did it. I had at least 15 inches taken off my head and I feel about 50 pounds lighter. It really wasn't as tragic as I thought it would be. It has taken me some time to get used to the look of shorter hair, but it really feels much better. I'm saving tons of money on shampoo and conditioner and other hair related products. It takes me seconds to comb through it now as opposed to the 15 minute time frame it used to take. You see there are many advantages to this haircut. And now there will be some cancer patient somewhere wearing my hair on their head, so my hair didn't go to waste. And I did my good deed for the month.

The other exciting events to report on include a whirlwind trip to Florida this past weekend. My husband's cousin got married in Naples on Saturday so we flew down to attend. It's a long story, but we got standby passes to fly so I will provide you with our itinerary.

Thursday, March 2 2:00-Get off work to get eyebrows waxed and don't understand what the esthetician is saying because of the mask she is wearng and possibly the language barrier. When in doubt ask pardon me and then if you still don't understand just smile and say yes. Call husband to let him know that his sister said the afternoon flight we are planning on taking to Orlando is pretty full and we would do better flying out tomorrow morning. Make decision to enjoy the afternoon and leave tomorrow morning. Finish packing, watch the sunset over Red Mountain out my bedroom window with the warm breeze blowiing through open windows. Life is good.

Friday, March 3 4:30 am in the morning-Roll out of bed to start the trip to the airport. Flight leaves at 7:55 so we have to get to airport by 6:00 am. Groggily drive, argue with husband over where the off site parking lot is. I'm right, but he doesn't listen so we just park at the airport lot and will spend much more on parking.

6:00 am-Go to ticket counter get passes and go through airport security. It's our lucky day! We get pre-selected for extra security screening. We have our shoes tested for explosives. They open our bags and test the contents for residue as well. We even get a pat down. I totally understand why they have to do this, so I'm not complaining. But they didn't check anything on my daughter. (Because terrorists would never endanger the lives of children to carry out their diabolical plans.)

7:55 am-After boarding the plane late (My husband always picks the wrong time to use the bathroom) we don't get to sit next to each other and my daughter does not get a window seat. At least my husband is across the aisle from us and we did get on the plane (for free) so we are grateful and on our way to Orlando. I'm am not an airplane talker. Usually I bring some reading material and bury my nose in a magazine or book. But this time I hold a conversation with the college boy sitting in our row. We talk about sports-he attends NC State so I razz him about that a little. He golfs and majors in bio-chemistry. He tells me about his tough classes and plans for med school. Like I said I am not a talker but it passes the time along with games of hangman with my daughter.

10:40-Arrive in Orlando and wander towards rental car counter, wait in long line, my husband uses the wrong credit card and doesn't pre-pay for gas. Ugh! This is why I should take care of things, but I get tired of it sometimes and want him to have a little initiative in dealing with service related things. The rental car woman gives fuzzy directions to the lot. Go up one level and out across to the parking lot. So we go up one level but you can't cross there. She should have said go out, cross to the parking lot and then go up one level. It really makes a difference.

11:00-Arrive at the gates of the Magic Kindgom. I feel like a kid again. We park in the Minnie lot and take the tram to the gates. I packed way too much stuff in my purse today and it feels very heavy but we're at freaking Disney so things are simply magical. My daughter becomes extremely upset that she can't ride on the outside seat of the tram. For goodness sakes she will have plenty of thrilling rides-it's just the stupid tram. We get fingerprinted to get in the park and my husband and I discuss the reasons why. He thinks to keep pedophiles out of the park, most likely it's to verify re-entry. Mystery Mister Ra!

11:00am-7:30pm-Spend all day at the Magic Kindgom. We hit Adventure Land first. We ride the Jungle Cruise and endure all the lame, stale jokes and puns of the cruise guide. We climb the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse(I always thought that was boring). The Pirates of the Carribbean is closed for refurbishing-big disappointment. I love that ride! We skipped the Tiki Room. That was my Mom's favorite thing and we always had to attend that show. Not this time though-thankfully.

We head to Frontierland and go on Big Thunder Mountain and Splash Mountain. Fortunately we don't get soaked like the boat ahead of us. The Haunted Mansion is filled with a screaming gaggle of girls-The Whipserettes to be exact. To be young & silly again. We hit Fantasy Land and go on It's a Small World, Snow White's Scary Adventures, The Carousel. We skip Peter Pan and will come back later for that.

Have lunch-surprisingly not to expensive and fairly tasty. Then on the Tomorrow Land and Space Mountain. Wheeeeee! My daughter wants to ride again, we promise we will go again. We also saw Mickey's Philharmagic 3D spectacular. It's pretty good actually. We also went to Tom Sawyer's Island and explore the caves and mines and quite spots on the island away from the aimless masses that frequent the park. Big Thunder Mountain one more time. This time my daughter and me lift our hands on the down hill-we're getting brave. Almost lose my daughter's Mickey Mouse ears. But tragedy is narrowly averted thanks to a quick grab.

Take my advice and skip the Winnie the Pooh ride and the Stitch's Great Escape. The Winnie the Pooh line was the only line that moved way too slow and it was a big disappointment considering the wait and more importantly because they replaced Mr. Toad's Wild Ride with this boring display. The Great Escape was disappointing too. Not much happened except for smelling gross burps. Try it and you will see what I mean.

We try to get on Space Mountain one more time before we leave. A young girl is being coaxed on the ride by her father, but he finally removes her after she starts crying. Lucky for her though. We are on the ride ready for take off but it's taking way too long to get off. Finally an employee comes by and tells us that a chain came loose on our track and the ride will have to be reset. Mind you there are people inside the ride (which the scared girl is thankfully not a part of), quite possibly in the middle of dark turns or thrilling descents who are just stuck there. They have to manually pull all the cars down and will reset the ride. We get good news and bad news. The good news is that because of the delay we will get two rides. The bad news is that we are the guinea pig run. Just when the ride gets cranked up to go another employee pushes the wrong button and the entire ride shuts down. There will be no Space Mountain voyage today, so we go on Big Thunder Mountain once more. This time it is dark and the park looks beautiful. The castle is lit up with changing colors.

This might just be the happiest place on earth- despite the stupid walkers who stop right in the middle of walkways and the crying kids who really need a nap. We promise my daughter a lollipop in exchange for skipping the fireworks. I would love to stay but we've been going since 4:30. It's been a long day & we have to find a hotel for the night on our way down to Naples-(a three hour drive). We forget the lollipop, but because Disney executives are a smart marketing bunch there is a last chance gift shop as you leave for the parking lot. Whew! Misery and dramatics are averted once again.

7:30-Depart from Disney and head towards Naples. We plan to stop maybe in Tampa but bypass all the travel hotels. We end up near Bradenton but the hotels are either way too expensive or have no vacancy. I have to tell you that being cranky and tired and trying to find a hotel is no fun. We stop at several more exits and still can't find one. Left turn lanes are even more frustrating as we wait at busy intersections to turn around and head back to the interstate.

March 4 12:00 am We finally stop in Naples and get a room with a balcony. As we sit on the balcony drinking beers and thankful that we are finally stopped for the night we see a car pull up to the front desk. A girl gets out and stumbles on her shoe. She picks up the shoe and hurls it at the guy in the car. Guy in car chucks it right back at her. She limps her way into the office and disappears. Guy in car sits and waits. My husband and I joke that they must be going through the same ordeal we just went through with finding a place to stay. Fortunately for us we did not resort to violence and therefore avoid a domestic dispute that requires law enforcement intervention because of it . Guy in car finally pulls away and parks. Shoe is still on ground. Girl walks out of office limping with one shoe and looking rather pathetic. Guy who is now out of car shouts after her, but she avoids him and enters an area we can't view. Not too long after that a police car pulls up and circles the parking lot. This is an exciting show, but we don't get to see what happens beyond that.

10:00-Venture to breakfast bar and my waffle almost gets stolen by a girl. When the waffle iron is closed that means someone else is cooking their waffle. Her mother looks like a biker, so I better not get smart though.

11:00-Check out and head to hotel where in-laws are staying. Mother-in-law presents my daughter with a huge shopping bag of Christmas presents. I know it's March, but since we didn't see them this year and since my mother in-law is too cheap to mail them, my daughter gets Christmas in March and we have to lug all the booty back on the plan. The wedding is at 1:00 so we gotta get moving.

12:15-Leave for church and follow father-in-law. He takes us to the wrong church. A senior moment as he calls it. They hold the wedding up for us to arrive. We are 10 minutes late but we finally make it. It's a traditional Catholic ceremony so there is several mentions of the slew of kids the couple will produce.

3:00-Head to reception and don't trust that father-in-law knows the way. We follow the husband of the step sister of the bride. We figure he would get us there, but he stops at a convenience store so we follow father-in-law and make it to the Country Club in time for the cocktail hour. Drink and eat cute appetizers. Instead of putting the appertizers on a buffet, waiters walk around with trays of coconut shrimp and beef wellington puffs. I take several at a time and probably look like a pig. Family pictures are snapped and dinner will be served soon.

There is a bunch of wedding reception stuff that occurs but the timeline becomes fuzzy as the number of drinks consumed increases. There is bride/father dance which tears me up and I'm crying. The groom/mother dance is next. They really like Country music here. We eat a buffet dinner with beef tips and stuffed chicken. The party starts to lag a little. But you can count on Mary Jo to get things shaking. Mother of the bride pleads with Mary Jo to dance. She does and it is infectious. There's the Electric Slide, The Cha-Cha Slide, The Conga line. All the stupid stuff that you only do when you're drunk at a wedding. And the party is not a party until a tie is on the head of at least one partygoer. There he is. There is another guy who creeped me out the way he danced with the woman. You could tell they didn't know each other too well. And It looked like her was undressing her with his eyes and could not take his eyes off her cleavage. My father-in-law is now boogeying down. WE are cracking up at him, he looks so serious. My husband really wants to make a statement because the groom is a big Florida Gators fan and has an ice sculpture of a Gator out for display. We carve the initials S and U under the big F on the Ice Gator's shirt. My 19 year old junvenile deliquent nephew is there and he's hitting on married girls. I still remember him as the cute freckled face kid I first met at a family wedding when my husband and I first started going out about 14 years ago. He catches the garter belt. A large girl catches the bouquet and it's a little akward watching our nephew involved in the tradition of garter placed on the bouquet catchers leg. (Aside-this was not done at my wedding as a 12 year old girl caught the bouquet). Nephew wants to stay at reception and tries to talk his way to riding back with us. But we're ready to go by 8:30. A long reception in my opinion.

9:00-Back to hotel to hang out by pool and visit with family. We retire to room at about 10:30 because we have a 7:10 am flight out of Orlando tomorrow. Yes, you hear me right. Let's do the math. 3 hour drive to airport, need to get to airport 2 hours before flight. This requires leaving Naples at 2:00 am and driving to Orlando to get to airport by 5:00. We watch the superb ending of the Duke-Carolina basketball game and hit the sheets.

March 5 2:00 am-Groggily get up and drive to Orlando. We make it by the skin of our teeth. Fly home and are back by 9:00 am. We sleep for the next 6 hours straight. Go pick up puppy at puppy sitters house and then time for bed.

See what I mean, All in the same day!