Debra Anastasia's Blog, page 60

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Disney Trip part #9

As we are seconds away from facing the parking attendant, with only $6.40 in hand, I have to summon up skills of reasoning, charm, and persuasiveness that I have gleaned from my ancestors. I hearken back to some ancient family lore to see if I'll be able to wring some inspiration from them…

~ My mother frantically searching for her car keys, while driving down the road at 60 miles per hour. I wish I could say I have no idea how this feels. But I can't.

That story is no help .

~My mother and her friend driving down the road for a shopping trip. Mom is in her brand new automatic car, after trading in a stick shift she has had for years. She spots a nice little antique store with the shop keeper outside. She and her friend decide to stop in for a look see. At 55 miles per hour mom hits the "clutch," diving the nose of the car into the ground much like a Flintstones cartoon. Her lovely friend, luckily buckled in, slaps around like a rag doll. 

Her friend stares in shock at my mother and asks breathlessly, "Did we hit a deer?" 


My mother maneuvers the car into the parking lot. The shopkeeper runs into her store as fast as she can, thinking she is going to make the sale of a lifetime after what she has witnessed. My mother and her friend are screaming laughing and can't get out for fear of wetting their pants.

That story is no help whatsoever .

~My mother , in her sunglasses, driving quite a distance, through heavy traffic. When she finally gets to her destination, she flips down the mirror to check her hair. Good thing she did. She had a maxi pad stuck to the arm of her sunglasses the entire time.

I have a maxi pad, but I can't imagine where I could stick it that would help me in my current situation .

~My mother , sister and I laughing hysterically at the warning tag on Mom's new electric paint remover. The tag said "Do Not Use As a Hair Dryer." Though the product looks similar to a hair dryer, the super nova hot heating element would obviously deter anyone from using it as a hair dryer. They didn't need this silly warning. Actually, I wish they had left it off. Mom didn't see it as a warning. She saw it as a hint. Like from Heloise. 

On the fateful day in the 1989, I was sculpting my wickedly stylish "bangs-sticking-straight-up" hair. The unthinkable happened. The hair dryer broke. I'd never create "the look" With out any of my three essentials 1) hair dryer 2) hair spray 3) curling iron; I'd go to High School with the most dreaded condition a teenage girl could face. Flat Hair. Mother, faced with a hormonal teen gets to thinking. There's a picture in her head of a hair dryer, if you carefully erase the red circle with the line through it, you can save the day! While I freak out at the kitchen table, Mom goes to the garage. When she appears, I laugh at her joke. Then she plugs it in.
 
Me- "Mom?"
 
Mother- "Trust me."
 
Me- "Mom!"

The element starts to glow. I'm transfixed by the reddish, purple pulsating of the hottest thing I've ever been this close to...

Mom is saying -"I won't even go close! Trust me!" 

She's blocking my way out with her glowing instrument. I see the tag that was soooo funny, now mocking me. I lock eyes with my Mom, she advances. I crawl out under the table and scurry, army style into the dining room. The cord will only go so far. I'm safe. Thank God cordless technology was not widely available yet. I would have been powerless against "the Run" 

 Now, was mom really going to dry my hair with the paint remover? Or was she trying to show me there are scarier things in life than not arriving to school with my I-just-ran-into-a-wall-at-high-speed hair style perfectly in place? I think we all know the answer to that one.

~ What can I glean from this recollection? Hmmm. I do not have a weapon. Except. The Jiggler!

The scariest weapon known to man! As we pull up to the window, I glance in. Just before I unsnap my shorts, I see the smooth face of an angelic teen boy. I can't do it to him. He's too innocent, too young. I roll down the window, and do what my mother would do…
I give him a big smile. And I start my explanation, while Mr. A dials Mom's cell phone, in case the attendant needs to talk to her. I know this is fruitless, she's in a car with no place to bury her phone. But it keeps him from worrying. My explanation in one giant fast talking breath goes like this…

"Hi there.. lovely evening we have I have a problem you see my mother works here and she was with us when we came in the park and she has free parking but my father who is contracting in Orlando dropped by to pick her up from us you see he has this horrible commute and I am hoping he gets his schedule adjusted to three days a week because it is really to much for him so Mom likes when she can take the commute with him and we usually have a resort pass but not this time and so now I am worried but I do have this here money it's …. $6.40"

I hold out four wrinkled bills and a blob of change.

The attendant lifts one eyebrow. Then he laughs, refuses my money and says, "Go ahead in ma'am." 

We thank him and take a sigh of relief. Disney Magic .

We're off to park. Our relief is short lived. Our fear of the April Crowds puffs up like welts on Mr. A's back after a cat climbed up it.

Well I guess that statement requires some explaining.

When Mr. A and I were newlyweds, I convinced him to adopt a cat. We went to the local shelter and fell in love with a cat . We named her King Friday. When she was adjusting to our apartment, she had trouble with the litter box. She would do her business and than step in it, with all four feet and then track it around the furniture and carpet. It was very disgusting. One night, around 3am, I stumbled out to use the bathroom. The cat and I crossed paths and I knew she had been up to no good. I screamed for Mr. A, who stumbled out in his boxers. Our apartment was very old and the walls were thin. Our bathroom shared a wall with our neighbor's bedroom (a nice, quiet couple). So..I handed him the disgusting cat and steered the duo to the bathroom. 

Now, our water situation was insane. Starting up the bath or shower sounded like a jet taking off and the water pressure peeled the first three layers of skin off your body. My plan is to have Mr. A stand in the tub holding the cat while I close the door and prevent the cat from escaping. 

Done. 

Now, Mr. A is still mostly asleep when I turn on THE WATER. The cat's eyes go wild. and she immediately manages to jump out of Mr. A's hands by twisting and somehow going vertical enough to flip over and land on his back where he can't reach her. Since he's wearing no shirt she is using his skin to firmly establish her refusal to take a bath. My poor hubby is bent over screaming in agony and beating the wall with his fist while he flails his other arm wildly trying to dislodge King Friday from his back. He can't reach the cat and it is up to me. 

All I can think to do is bop the cat in the face. Repeatedly, like a bad soap opera. The cat has the choice of the water-filled bath, the tile wall (which it can't climb up) or the crazy women that's repeatedly tapping her in the nose every time she moves my way. This, of course, causes the cat to dig in deeper. 

Finally, after I realize I need to stop jabbing the cat and back up, she jumps off. I still feel bad about that one. Feel bad for the cat, Mr. A and the couple next door who looked at us really funny later that morning .

Those scratches really welted up. Don't feel bad for Mr. A, he got me back when he electrocuted me with his ridiculous lamp he had from college.

…So we are directed to park (at the end of the row, of course) and we note the signage. Dopey…. Holy Smokes! We are parked in a dwarf. I did not even know they had dwarf parking. Is Mickey sending us a not so subliminal message by parking us in Dopey?!!! Mr. A looks at me ominously

Him- "We've never parked in a dwarf before."
 
Me-  "Maybe there are a lot of spaces up front from people who have left and they're just filling up the back rows before they re-park people closer to the front?"
 
Him- "…………….."
 
Me- "What? Is that not a possibility?"
 
Him- "It's a good thing your pretty."
 
Me- "Don't get your Crocs in a twist…just relax, It's Disney, we'll have a good time."
 
BC- "Will we get to ride the tram this time?"
 
Him- "Oh yeah, it'll be a nice long ride on the tram son."
 
BC- "Cool! that's one of the best things at Disney"

After a nice long, crowded tram ride. We arrive at Ticket and Transportation. BC loves the monorail so we head there first.. 

Kristy's Happenings: Poughkeepsie Review

Kristy's Happenings: Poughkeepsie Review: I have 2 songs that I picked for this review.  I thought they both were equally perfect for this book and I couldn't pick one over the other...

Places You Can Get You Some

POUGH!



There are THREE places to win Poughkeepsie during the:



Darhk Portal is giving away TWO eCopies of Poughkeepsie!


 
The hosts of the event, Sam, E and R's Awesomeness are giving away a Signed, Hugged, PRINT copy of Poughkeepsie  and a giant BLOB of swag!








And last and least: Me! I'm giving away a Signed, Hugged, Print Copy of Poughkeepsie and another BLOB of swag. The swag includes TWO crystal charm bracelets! What? I know! I make these bad larrys at my dining room table like a freakshow and they are pretty! Please sign up for you chance to WIN! (P.S. SER's Awesomeness has the same swag pack, so that's even more chances to bling yourself out.)

*PS, that is swag bookmarks that look like my book covers! Temporary Tattoos! The crystal bracelets have book-themed charms.

The Poughkeepsie one has a cross, music clef, knife and knitting needles. The Crushed Seraphim one has two snowflakes, a heart or cross and an angel wing.


Let's dance about this giant awesome together!





XOXO ~Debra

Small Treasures Blog Hop

   





Hey Guys!  My sweet friends at SER Awesomeness are having an amazing blog hop to celebrate Small Press Treasures. Below, for the hop I will be giving away a signed copy of Poughkeepsie, a handmade bracelet, two temporary tattoos and a Poughkeepsie train schedule to one lucky winner. This giveaway is international. Also, I'm giving away more prizes on SER Awesomeness, so please sign up there as well.
 In the spirit of small treasures I have a recommendation for you! My publisher, Omnific Publishing, is amazing. They take risks on books that tell a fantastic story and although they have all that a book requires to make it professional and enjoyable, they strive to keep the author's story as close to their original vision as possible. That means the art that you get to read in the final, completed book will not be diluted. Considering I write some really crazy things, I appreciate the hell out of it. So my recommendation for you is to drop by Omnific and take your pick. There's not a stinker in the bunch!





  
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Disney Trip part #8

So I have learned some things in the time between my last chapter and this one. First off, Never ask Mr. A, "How was your day?" when he is in the middle of Hasselhoffing a burger . Second, Vagisil and Orajel are two very different products in alarmingly similar packages.




Back to the trip report.


Where were we? Oh that is right! I was wisely deciding to take the Anastasias to the superpackedalious Magic Kingdom.. As we finish up our time at Innoventions, we head to the Disney Visa pictures. Two cast members are waiting. We show our Disney card, and unlike last time, It actually gets us something special in Disney. The kids walk in before us. Who is there but PLUTO !!! The kids' two favorite characters! Disney Magic. The kids come out glowing and laughing. I love that special little place. We have fun posing for pictures. and MICKEY


Before we set off to the Kingdom, we decide to make a few essiantial purchases. Mostly Crocs and Croc jibblitz (as GC calls them). We wander over to Mouse Gear. We instantly wish we printed money for a living. The kids pick out some little trinkets. Disney Bus toys and Chip and Dale holding hands in their new outfits. And of course Pluto, in his new outfit. And a monorail. And a shirt for Mr. A. And a Christmas ornament, because we always get a Christmas ornament. Mr. A and I decide to go "a little crazy ". We would make better adult impersonators if we did this less often. All it takes is a Tuesday, a store and one of the two of us getting a wild hair.


So we stand in front of the glistening rubber/styrofoam of the Mickey Head Crocs. The stand is taller than us. The colors are glorious and plentiful. I'm already wearing a pair of Crocs. Only in Disney would you buy the same exact shoes you are already wearing, to swap them for ones with Mickey shaped holes. As a matter of fact, I wanted those pink Crocs so bad, I would have eaten my black pair if it was a requirement to get the Mickey ones. Do they pump in anesthetic to numb the financial reasoning button in your brain?


So I pick out the right size, and glance at Mr. A. He's looking at his feet. Then he's looking at the Mickey Crocs. Then at his feet. Hmm. I wonder. He has always bucked the Crocs I have tried to force on him. Like a dog afraid of the vacuum. He thinks they are girly. Real men won't wear Crocs.


In amazement I realize that Disney has the power to smooth over gender boundries like icing on a cake . We are all unisex in Disney. Like the Ken and Barbie dolls with nothing in their pants. Mr. A is willing to stomp on his manliness to purchase more Disney products. Disney marketers are geniuses and we are easy prey.


Me -"Would you like a pair?"
Him- "No... well... I mean I couldn't wear them in public or non-Disney public anywa.y"
Me-"Only the Drive thru people think you're a girl, no one else, I promise."


I think of just the week before, waiting with the kids and Mr. The King to be seated at Cheeseburger in Paradise. The lady across from us whips out an exact replica of Mr. A's brand new pride and joy, the Cherry Chocolate Verizon phone. It matches her bag so nicely. Then the next lady we see is wearing the same Keen sandals as Mr. The King .
I don't remind him.


Him-"Well, I could wear them walking the dogs."


He had a wild hair... in a store... so it's on like Donkey Kong.


With two pairs of grown up Crocs and Jibblitz for the kids, and Jibblitz for my new pink Crocs and all the other necessities we picked out we waddle over to to the check out. As we are waiting, we notice a lovely throw. With Mickey and all the parks represented. Me and Mr. A make happy noises about the blanket. It would look so nice in our living room, folded just so. We load up our "essentials" to be checked out. We're informed by the bubbly cast member, that we have spent so much money we are entitled to buy three blankets! Well, we felt like we won the lotto. Disney is letting us buy more stuff! We can buy three blankets! We're so lucky. Excited chatter from the A's.Him-"Should we buy all three?"Me-"But of course, we are ENTITLED to them! "
Him-


Mr. A talks me down. We buy one. Look at those woman Crocs giving him some sense! Maybe they were a good idea. Next, we are informed that the jibblitz do not work in the grown up Crocs. They fall out. Do I put back my Jibblitz? No! Now I can Disneyfy my old boring black crocs. I'm so glad I didn't eat them.


We get outside and of course, find a bench near those giant bouncing balls. Those cast members have so much fun throwing those things around. And we put on our Mickey Head Crocs. There's peace in my soul. Finally, I was home in Disney with the Disney approved shoes, I can relax now. Mr. A is having issues. He is slap flopping around in huge woman Crocs. They're way too big. Mr. A worries about returning Crocs that he has already walked in. Please man, we're in Disney take those suckers back! He returns with the next smaller size. And they're too small. Mr. A has an unorthodox, unDisney approved foot size, apparently. I know, I was shocked too. We're working through it, with counseling and lots of booze...but it has been rough. He makes due with the small Crocs by wearing them with the band up. Shame on his foot .


We head towards the front of Epcot. I remember at the last minute to pick up our free Disney Visa picture. We wave goodbye to our tiny tiny heads. And get into the van at the end of the row. Which we couldn't find because our clever little Mickey antenna ball is rendered useless in a Disney lot (Also Wal-Mart, Target, The school parking lot and pretty much everywhere except our driveway). I beg Mr. A to just hit the panic button and we'll find the van but this is apparently like asking him to pull over and ask for directions (the anesthetic gender smoothing magic does not reach all the way to the parking lot). Finally, he agrees to press the button but the van makes no noises.
PC says, "Man, our van is calm."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Well it dosen't even panic when you hit the button" .


Eventually We find the van at the very end of the row where we left it. Have Park Hoppers will hop!




So we hop to the Kingdom. There's something very different about the Anastasia mobile. Something important has changed since the Jiggler was parked in its vehicle. Can you remember what it was?


That's right, I was in the backseat. Now I'm in the front seat. My Mother had gone home with my father. With her went our handy dandy free cast memeber parking. Usually we have luxurious, multiple day visits with a happy resort pass living on our dashboard. We don't think of this until we are one car away from the parking attendant.


Do they take credit cards? No
Do we have cash? No


I dig around in my Bagallini and come up with $6.40. Parking is more than that. Mr. and Mrs. A look at each other with eyes as wide as saucers . Will our hop be a flop? __________________


**PS This trip report was written back when the Verizon Chocolate was new.
The Mr.'s was like so:






and mine was the Mint Chocolate:


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I still miss that phone. It was so fun to open and close. Best color ever too. Smart phones are boring looking. My Droid is busy trying to revolt against me now. It won't let me type, which makes things interesting. I have to do speech to text all the time. and you know how well that works, right? Anytime I mention my son's name, the phone reports it in a text or email as "Fishcake."


Fun times. Anyhoozle. That's Disney! This is a hop!!

From Jillian

So much love. Paper roses for Blake. Can not wait to hang this in the new house!!

Looking for the Feeling Lucky Blog Hop?

It's one post down! http://debraanastasia.blogspot.com/2012/03/feeling-lucky-blog-hop.html

Looking for the Feeling Lucky Bloog Hop?

It's one post down! http://debraanastasia.blogspot.com/2012/03/feeling-lucky-blog-hop.html

Disney Trip part #7

Remembering this, we avoid "the boat." We promise BC a trip later because he still loves the boat. So we head to Italy, again. We are dreaming of Fettuccine Alfredo. On our last trip to Italy we fell in love hard with this dish. We arrive to a packed lobby. (We whip out our ADR numbers) In just minutes we are whisked to our table.  We are greeted by our very charming waiter. He was delightful. I could only understand 30% of what he said. But it did not matter. When Mom ordered the Fettuccine, the waiter asked if either of us were pregnant. Well, usually this will tick a lady off if they are not pregnant. But...Put an accent on any comment and it sounds better so we decided not to be offended. He seemed to be asking if we would like to be pregnant which I guess was supposed to be better. Apparently, the first chick to down this buttery, cheesy goodness was knocked up. So this gives the waiters in Italy the chance to bring up your fertility and loins at lunch. I like this place Either way we ordered. We got our drinks, food and dessert. And drinks again.(Mr. A loves this place too) . I order the Fettuccine (of course) Mom ordered the chicken parm which she liked but not as much as the bite of my Alfredo she shared. Mr. A tried some sort of Italian sampler plate which he claimed was delicious. He also had some sort of Italian margarita which came in a very nice glass and was awful girlie looking if you ask me but then again so is he sometimes . GC had spaghetti with butter and salt and nothing else on it. What she managed to get in her mouth she seemed to enjoy . BC had an individual pizza which he said he loved. Then we had deserts, cannoli all around and of course with desert more drinks. We managed to not get pregnant by the charismatic waiter. (Too bad. Mr. A would look so cute pregnant ordering from the drive-thru.) That Fettuccine Alfredo is so amazing. I wish they would make a Yankee Candle that smelled like it. And a perfume. Or even a Bath and Body works scent. I could take a bath in it. Yum.


We waddled over to the boat (return trip this time, see how we did that there?) And bid adieu to Grandma She and Grandpa were heading home because Grandpa had work in the morning. (Thanks for another amazing Day Mom )

Next up for the Anastasias is Turtle Talk with Crush. Last year this was such a hit we saw it about five times. Each of my kids got to talk to Crush. We videoed it both times. They love watching themselves. If you haven't seen Crush do all the talking you are missing out. It is amazing. Needless to say we were worried. The kids were expecting Crush to talk to them. Now, they are polite and would not say anything if they were disappointed during the show. Then, when they got us alone they would start in. "Crush doesn't love me." GC can even choke out some actual tears. Now, we are not novice parents. We have our ways. (Distraction, hugs, and of course, in an emergency "Do you want to see the Jiggler Jiggle?") So we take our place in the spanking new theater setting. The kids sit up front. And then there is the pushy kid. Way too old to be sitting with the kids. He had the speaker dude held hostage with his begging and gesturing. Obviously, big dude wants some face time with Crush. I look around wondering where the adult is that brought this kid. It was getting uncomfortable for the dude. During the Crush talk this kid is yelling out the answers and standing up to be called on. Speaker Dude and Crush avoid him.


Low and behold sitting and waiting patiently was paying off for BC. Crush calls on "the Dude with the Hawaiian shirt and the backwards lid on his noggin" BC!! I wonder what he will do. BC says he has two questions. I worry. Oh no! Will he be like pushy kid!? It is so unlike him. Crush tells him to "Ask Away." His first question was, "Crush could you please talk to my little sister because she loves you." Awww.


He blackmailed Crush. And thought of his sister first. I don't think what he did is legal , but so sweet that he came up with it on his own. Right after his question, Crush found GC and she asked her question. Disney magic. We were thrilled for them. They were smiling ear to ear . We made our way out. The Anastasias toss around the idea of going on a thrill ride. But time is against us. And we're so close. To my castle. We make it back to Innoventions to ponder our situation. While BC and Mr. A played the giant shuffle board game with the trucks, GC played the sweet Disney tag giant video game. And I got to thinking. Bad things happen when I think. We usually end up selling our house (We've had three in 6 years or getting a dog (We've got three of those too). I want to go to Magic Kingdom. But that set up is the fanciest cattle drive in the world. Crowds beyond all reason and imagining. And we would be arriving right around the first parade. I remember with a shiver the last time we faced the mass exit.


* * *
When BC was 6 years old and GC was 3 years old, we were blessed to have my Aunt and my Mother traveling with us. We had stayed to watch the fireworks the first time we had seen "Wishes."  Of course, we had no idea the castle would be attacked during the show and the kids would be asking "Is Cinderella dead?" for the next two years. Ahh "Wishes" Good times. Thanks for that Disney.


Anyhoo, so the kids had whipped themselves into a frenzy and we couldn't get away from the screaming villains due to the crowds and the loudness. So we held them through the trauma (only our kids). Upon the mass exit, The crowds were thronging as only hot sweaty Disney crowds can. We had driven our van to the Magic Kingdom. We had rented a stroller. We had to decide what to do. PS had fallen asleep on my chest. We look at our options. The sea of sheer humanity is a solid wall waiting for the Ferry . The Monorail line is skinnier and a long snakey mess. We can't see the Pop Century bus from where we were standing, so that must be the short easy line. Mr. A decides to "take one for the team" and board the wall of humanity ferry line.


So we get on line for the bus. The line does not appear long but this is Disney, They are masters of illusion and this one was a doosey. I was holding GC for so long that my right arm locked up and froze to provide her with a chair for her nap for the next 2 ½ hours. I missed that stroller the whole time. Halfway through the wait we get to hear Mr. A's cheerful voice via cell phone telling us that he is finally at the van and don't worry he'll be back to the room soon. At the van! I'm performing another feet of strength and Mr. A is conveniently absent. He is always absent when I need him to actually use some muscle. This would burn me less if he wasn't actually useful WHEN he is around. I thought of this....


* * *
When we moved from one house to another Mr. A proved his ridiculous moose-like strength. He's crazy strong. Our old house was across the street from our new house. After a hard day of moving furniture (and we have heavy, huge furniture, our poor moving helper friends are convinced we choose our bed set based on the sheer weight of it) Mr. A does a last sweep of our house. Lo and behold he finds we forgot to empty the shed! At 11:00 pm by himself he goes back and forth moving all the contents of our shed. As he locks up the shed he looks over to the backyard and sees ....our swing set. It was a super long six legger with lots of accessories. We never did quite get to cementing it down. I almost dropped the baby when I looked out the window to see Mr. A walking across the street carrying the whole swing set across the road above his head. He walked it to its new place in our back yard and set it down with a jarring thud. We have gotten better at moving since then, but I really wish I had had the video camera going at the time.
* * *
So needless to say when holding my chunky monkey 3 year old, having swing set muscles around to help would have been really nice. But he's not there. He's in the van. With the air conditioning on...taking one for the team...He's in trouble again. I hang up the cell phone and resume my locked arm... waiting.


When we were about three busses away and fully entrenched in the bowels of the line, a bus pulls up. Everyone's beyond exhaustion. The bus that pulled up happened to be one of the funky handicapped busses that can lower itself down to make it easier to board. The bus began to board the people that were obviously waiting some time for it. About five turns up the line, a group of men begin booing. Loudly. I look at my Mother and my Aunt in shock.


 "Are they booing the handicapped? Really, I mean we have come to the point in the night where we are booing people who have disabilities because one of every 5 buses is accesible to them and they are finally getting to sit down!!"


I look around wildly. Is no one going to say something?! I can see these are Dads with their young families. I can't move far enough away from my sleeping girl to yell. If she wakes up we have a long time to wait with the screaming. So nothing happened. Just shocked silence. The people boarded the bus. I hated to say nothing so just to let the booers know, on the way off Broadway chance that they will ever read this, If I had not had my kids I would have screamed in my Bronx yell and shamed you. I would have gone up one side and down the other. You...You... You freaking booers...You would have messed your pants when I was done with you. To the sweet guests boarding the bus, I'm so sorry it happened to you. I am so sorry you could not get to hear my voice shaming the brainless jerks.




So eventually we got our turn on the bus. A gentleman gave up his seat for me and GC. The burst of kindness was nice after what we had witnessed. Swing set muscles was waiting to take GC from me at the bus stop. My arm was locked in that seat position for quite a while after GC was comfy in her bed. It's amazing what you can do when you have to.


* * *
So with all these experiences tossing around in my head. Mr. A and I made the obvious, sensible decision.... We went to the Kingdom.