Clareified

I have a phone I hate.

It’s glitchy and horrible and dumb and I hate it. However, I have a service that I like. 4G coverage, unlimited data, usually works yadayadda.

So, do I buy the phone I want for $759 and keep my service the same? (I’m pretty sure the answer to this is no.)

Do I buy the phone I want for $199 and surrender unlimited data? This feels like letting Verizon blackmail me without consequence. It offends my sense of justice.

Do I buy the phone I want for $199 and switch to ATT or Sprint, which I know has worse coverage? Probably not a big issue so long as I’m in NYC, but may come back to haunt me on my planned road trip through the south this winter.

Do I replace this stoopid hated glitchy phone I have now by using insurance and paying a $100 deductible for the same stoopid hated probably still glitchy phone because Verizon claims that the scratches on the phone have invalidated the warranty? (They made a similar claim invalidating my warranty when my Droid X got bricked by their stoopid ice cream update two years ago. I hate them SOOO much, yet I know they have the best coverage in America. ARRGGHHH.)

AAANNNDDD GGOO!

Mary, of used to live a couple of miles away, but vanished in the middle of last fall Mary, donates her company’s expertise to designing the artwork and programs for an annual film festival.

In return, the festival gives her company a few all access passes to the event. Last year, I stowed away in the trunk as “company intern.” This year, no one was free to go, except Mary, of used to live a couple of miles away, but, OHHH, *NOW* lives a couple of miles away from Atlantic City Mary, so I got promoted to employee!

I was packing for the weekend, which takes place on the sandy shores of Long Beach Island — when I started to hear reports of a hurricane moving up the coast from Florida.

Uhh. Hmm. Does that affect me, I thought to myself as I flung my bathing suit and shorts into my Mets duffel bag.

The next morning, I turned on the news at 4 AM and literally every single day’s weather square was an angry storm cloud face with lightning bolts electrocuting black women in dark blue BMWs.

Huh. Okay, but that’s *Brooklyn* weather. *I* won’t be in Brooklyn. I’ll be on an island! SO THERE!

Just for laughs, I typed in the zip code for the “resort” at which we were staying. “FLOOD ADVISORY WARNING. STAY OFF THE ROADS” Each day’s square was a picture of animal heads peering out of ark windows.

I emailed Mary to find out if the festival was canceled. It wasn’t.

I texted the director to see if it was going to be postponed. It wasn’t.

“IT’S FINE, DAWN! Get down here!” Okay. Well, I guess…

I told Mary I would be there by 4:00, in time for us to make the 4:30 cruise. O_o Sometimes I wonder why I publish these stories so that everyone knows just exactly how dumb I am? Anyhoo…

So… I’m driving *to a beach* during a torrential downpour in order to catch a boat for an afternoon booze cruise…

Suddenly, it occurs to me that I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when the car hydroplanes off the highway! Do I turn into it? Do I turn away from it?? My wipers are furiously swishing back and forth. I am going like 30 miles an hour down the parkway. Cars are cutting me off, drivers are giving me nasty looks. I am clearly going to die.

I contemplate turning back, but now I’m about 30 miles away and the weather is atrocious. I figure that I’m probably driving through the eye, which means, if I turn back, I’ll be in the eye the whole way home. Nope, best to go through. I finally get to Long Beach Island and the roads are FLOODED. There is a police SUV on the side of the road, the still water is more than halfway up HIS tires.

Now I’m imagining the hilarious phone call with my insurance company after my car gets washed away:

“Hello, how may we help you?”

“Yes, my car was washed away in a flood.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Summers… but our records don’t indicate that you are in a flood zone.”

“Well, I was on an island off the coast of New Jersey at the time.”

“Oh no. How long had you been on that island when the storm suddenly hit?”

“Um…well… see… actually, what happened was, I drove to the beach during the storm and arrived at the island as it was flooding.”

*Dialtone*

Anyway, I finally get to the resort. I can’t see anything. I’m terrified that if I turn the car off, it will never start again and I’m worried if I open the door, fish will swim in from outside. I pull up alongside another car. The figure inside has reddish hair, and I surmise that it’s Mary in her fancy new car. I look at the clock “crap, it’s after 4! She’s probably mad that she’s been waiting for me out in her car for fifteen minutes! But I can’t imagine this cruise is still on!”

I get out my car and run to her car and get in.

Thankfully, she had also just gotten there AND was also wondering why in the hell, she had driven to the beach during a hurricane.

Now, the “resort”… in the previous years, the festival had rented out these beach houses. They weren’t fancy, but they were close to the beach and they were fine. However, they were leveled after hurricane Sandy, so the festival relocated to a Catholic retreat location about 10 miles away on the Bay. It was run by nuns. So, there we are, sitting in a convent parking lot on a dark and stormy…afternoon (SO CLOSE to the hitting the bad writing trifecta there!) and wondering what to do. There wasn’t a check-in desk or any indication of where we were staying.

“I think it’s that house back there on the left.”

I shit you not.

I was still wearing my work clothes, complete with my chintzy little dress shoes.

“I have rainboots, I’ll go check it out.”

O_O

“Um… Yes…I have DEFINITELY seen this movie. So, now we split up…”

She laughed.

I KNOW she was thinking “thank God, Dawn is the black one!” #RACES

She gets out the car and heads over to the house. I dialed one of the organizers (because if I don’t have service, then I DEFINITELY know we’re going to die.) Apparently, the booze cruise is going to happen as scheduled, it’s just not going to leave the dock.

Mary comes back and says the house is locked…except for the basement, but she decided not to go down there. #Valid

“The ax killer was probably SO mad when you left!”

There was another house behind us. I pointed at it.

“Maybe that’s the house… it could be on the left, if you’re looking at it from here.”

She shrugged and we decided to drive over to it.

THE DOOR OPENED!

THANK GOD.

I grabbed my stuff and plopped it on the floor. There were two rows of beds on each side. Have you ever seen movies about orphanages? Yeah, that.

We found some bedrooms in the back each with two twin beds. We decided to claim one. I took off my jacket and hung it on the bedroom doorknob. Mary called her contact at the festival. I changed into shorts and sandals. I looked out the window and shook my head. But it didn’t matter, all I packed were shorts and sandals, so shorts and sandals it would be.

As I half listened to Mary talk to her contact and half berated myself for all the bad decisions I’d made *JUST THAT DAY ALONE* I deduced that we were NOT in the right house.

“No, there are no snacks here” Mary said.

“…but that one was locked…”

“No…there’s no second floor here…”

AWW FUUCCKK. WE BROKE INTO A CONVENT HOUSE!!

DDUUUUDDDEEEE. IN FLORIDA YOU *SO* GET SHOT FOR THAT!!!!

I half listened as the woman gave us directions to a different house and hurriedly shoved all my clothes and shoes back into my duffel bags.

Mary took the address down and we high tailed it out of the house.

“OH MY GOD! OOPS. SORRY! OH MY WORD!! JESUS! OOPS. SORRY! Umm… JESUS!!”

Mary is laughing. “Let’s just go to the cruise now and we’ll figure out the housing on the boat.”

“Okay, do you think I’ll need money or ID or anything?”

“Nah.”

I patted my pockets and decided to bring my license just in case. I do look so very very young. It wasn’t in there. Oh, yeah, it’s in my jacket.

My jacket that is STILL hanging on the bedroom door of the house I broke into!

Awesome.

So, I break into the convent AGAIN to retrieve my jacket with my ID and cash and return to the car.

“…and this is why Dawn can’t get nowhere as a criminal.”

Mary laughs.

“Yeah, I am NOT taking you with me on any heists!”

The cruise was pretty packed. Mary drove, so I drank and drank and drank and drank.

Mary said hi to people she knew. They in turn introduced us to people we didn’t. This creepy guy was all “Hi, I’m Creepy guy.”

“I’m Mary, this is Dawn.”

“Where are you from?”

“Well, I just moved from BROOKLYN TO THE BEACH!” She says emphatically and then did a dance.

“I’m just from Brooklyn.”

“Oh me too, where?”

“Near the park.”

“Where?”

Uh…

“Ocean.”

“Where on Ocean??”

Mmm…ummm…I think I hear my mom calling me!

I continued drinking, I know this, because there was a woman walking around and I *INTRODUCED* myself to her! LIKE VOLUNTARILY!

Mary was all: O_O

“I’m Dawn and this is Mary!”

And the girl, whose name was something like “Hanna” said “nice to meet you. It’s too bad we can’t actually go out though.”

And then Mary said “well, there was a big accident recently. A boat capsized and the crew drowned.”

“That’s awful,” Hanna said.

“Mary is such a downer!” I said

Hanna laughed. “Were you like a goth kid?”

Mary said yes.

“Pfft. You don’t even have any skull jewelery on you! Goth! HAH!”

Of course, Mary totes had on a skull ring. So’s my face.

We chatted some more with Hanna. I continued to drink and though I have no idea what we were talking about, Mary asked “aren’t your friend’s kids that age?”

And I scoffed and said “I have all new friends now,” adding an arm flourish that emptied the remaining contents of my glass all over her.

“Well, now I see why,” Hanna said without missing a beat.

They did eventually take the boat out and when we returned I went to dinner with Mary.

Afterwards, we finally got legally situated in a house and watched the end of the Boston hockey game. Mary said her mom watched baseball with her even though her mom doesn’t really understand the game.

“Meh. It’s baseball… what’s there to understand? Although, I guess I do text Alceste anytime I can’t figure out what happened…like with pass balls.”

“What’s a pass ball?”

“Uhh…crap…um…I DON’T KNOW! And I can’t ask him again! I’ve already asked him twice!”

“I’ve never heard of it…”

“It’s probably a flukey thing that only happens to awful teams like the Mets.”

It is.

#Cry

The next day, the weather was slightly less “Doomsday adjacent.”

We went to the organizer’s house and while I saw syrup and a griddle, I did not see pancakes. I was sad. Mary and I sat on the patio and she ate a yogurt while I willed pancakes into existence with my mind. About half an hour later, a scent wafted through the sliding doors… SUCCESS!!

We went for a walk on the beach and then drove up to the fancy state lighthouse.

I heard a voice echo from the top.

“We made it!”

Mary said “Oh, you can go up!”

“Yeah, but from the sounds of it, you have to walk.”

“I know. It’s a lighthouse. There’s no elevator!”

Oh. Um… we ran into another guy we knew and the two of them were going to climb it, so… never to be one who resists peer pressure…I climbed it too.

My legs nearly fell off.

We went to some fancy sponsor’s cocktail party after that and then dinner. On the way to dinner, my Monkees playlist was on, and Mary was ACTUALLY singing along! I do not think Mary has EVER sang along to my car’s music EVER. IN TEN YEARS! NEVER.

We got to a burger place and they were playing “I wanna hold your hand” So we were both singing that and she goes “HA! You’re singing the Beatles!” And I was like “Oh yeah… see? I don’t get why they are so revered. This song is sooo cheesy!”

“Well, I grew up with it. So it has nice memories for me.”

“How’d you go from Beatles hand holding music to Alceste’s murder rape metal music?!”

She laughed “It’s not rape music!”

“Pfft, at the end of all Alceste songs someone is either murdered or raped.” #truestory

“You should tweet that!”

“Okay, but first, I’ve got to troll @juliusgoat about the Beatles suckingness.”

We saw a couple of movies at the festival and then went to the after party.

I was trying to follow the Blackhawks game on my phone, but just when I thought it was over, the stupid Kings tied it and my battery died four minutes into overtime. I borrowed Mary’s phone to continue listening until I killed her battery too. Now, I was bored and phone less. But they advertised “strong men bending steel,” which…listen… I am there to see some strong men bending steel.

A guy walked in with a huge box. I whispered to Mary “a mortician is here.”

“What do you mean mortician”?

“Dude…he’s old with a pale face, gray hair and he’s wearing an ill fitting dark black suit. MORTICIAN…well, or magician…”

He was a magician.

He picked Mary to be his assistant.

I yelled out “saw her in half!”

He didn’t. He did steal her watch though.

I was very impressed. As she put her watch back on, I sighed “man, if I could do that, I wouldn’t be a magician, I’d just steal watches all the time!”

“Yeah, but you’d probably leave your driver’s license behind.”

#RUUUDDDDDEEEE

The pub kept putting out trays of soft pretzels, but we kept missing them. Finally, I saw someone walking away with one and made a beeline for the tray. There were TWO left. So… I picked them up. As I walked toward Mary, this guy stabs me in shoulder with serving tongs. I thought he was trying to get my attention to say hi, so I waved back. But then I realized …oh, I guess he was about to use the tongs to take a pretzel, when I took the last two. THEN I GOT MAD! HOW ARE YOU STABBING A STRANGER WITH TONGS OVER BREAD, HOMIE??!!

I wished I had realized what he was doing right away, because I TOTES would have licked both pretzels right in his face!

By now, I’m super bored and ready to leave, but I drove and didn’t want to make Mary leave before steel was bended.

(The next day, she was like “If I had driven my own car, I would have left! O_O)

Finally, the strong men came out. The first guy bent a horseshoe.

“Pfft. *I* could bend a horseshoe!”

No, I couldn’t.

Then a guy snapped a wrench in half.

“Who *hasn’t* snapped a wrench in half?”

No one. Can’t be done.

They bent pipes and rods and folded nails into shapes. It was pretty cool.

The next day would have been a perfect beach day, but I didn’t want to sand my car all up, so I just headed home…

From the BEACH TO BROOKLYN!

I was at my mom’s house the other day, getting my hair done for…, well, instead of money, pyschological and physical trauma. As I drove toward her place, I saw an entire avenue block cordoned off with police tape. JAYSUS. I thought. AGAIN??? Ever since the old man who owned the fat people dress shop was murdered, I feel like there’s a shooting near her place every month or so. Of course, when I got upstairs, turned on the news, I saw that, indeed, four people had been shot a block away. “Shooting in Prospect Lefferts Gardens” the segment alerted.

Huh. Well, I guess that new name stuck. Well played, real estate agents, well played.

The next day, and article about the shooting appeared in the paper:

Several people pointed out that in New York City, the difference between a treacherous and a tranquil neighborhood can be a matter of a block or two, and that Sunday’s shooting of three people occurred on Lenox Road, one block south of the neighborhood’s traditional southern boundary. Referring to one of the signature blocks, Bill Sheppard, a senior vice president for the real estate firm Brown Harris Stevens who lives in the neighborhood, said, “If this were happening on Maple Street, that would raise a few eyebrows, but it’s just outside.”

Are you *kidding* me, asshat???

See, and this is why they should never give me any money or power ever… cause the basement of THAT dude’s house would be taken by eminent domain and turned into a homeless shelter for recovering male meth addicts.

*Just* his basement.

*files nails*

Part I

Part II

Part III

I woke up bright and early for my timeshare presentation. I’d read on the intertubes that they were *only* allowed two hours, so I wanted to get started as soon as possible, finish up the Holyland… Experience as soon as possible and head out to Universal Studios for Harry Potter living AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

I took my mother to the presentation. (Backstory: twas my mother who insisted I buy a BMW after taking the test drive. Twas my mother who insisted I buy my apartment the first time we went to see it. Twas my mother who has four George Foreman grills and owns every QVC appliance ever hawked on a televised broadcast. My mother has a purchasing problem.) I had explained to her that under no circumstances was I buying a timeshare. That she was not to buy a timeshare. There would be NO timeshare buying. We went over this when I invited her. We went over this at the airport. We went over this the night before. We went over this as I bought coffee that morning.

“No, I got it. I don’t have any money!”

Mmmm

“Okay, and I don’t have any money either, right? Nobody has any money. No money having we? Yes? Nobody is buying any timeshares.”

“Got it.”

GREAT!

Our “tour guide” was thirty minutes late. The guy at the desk assured me that were taking that into account, and would be included in the time allotted for my presentation. Cool. Only 90 more minutes AND no one has even tried to sell me anything!

Finally, this woman comes — she looks South Asian, but doesn’t have an accent or anything, she introduces herself as Seetha.

“Where are you ladies from?”

“New York”/ “Panama” we say simultaneously.

My mother is so weird.

“Panama? Who is from Panama?”

“My mother.”

“Oh, is this your mother?”

O_o

“Yes.”

“I thought you ladies were from Jamaica. You look Jamaican!”

O_o

“Nope.”

She walks us around the property for a bit and we come to a patio with a view of the pool and she sits us down, offers us coffee and begins. She tells her whole story. How she has two sons, and her dad died six months ago (it was so sad, he worked his whole life and he planned to retire at 70, then he got cancer and died at 68. He NEVER even got to take a vacation. SPEAKING OF VACATION…)

*eyeroll*

She then asked me how much I spend a year on vacations.

“Nothing. I go to casinos where I’m comped.”

“Okay, but if you had to pay for those vacations, how much would they be?”

*Shrugs*

“Well, let’s say $5000.”

“Okay.”

“Well, Dawn, and Dawn’s mom, that’s $5000 that you’re JUST THROWING AWAY! You never see that money again. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, it doesn’t cost me anything. So…”

“Right, but wouldn’t it make more sense to put that $5000 towards something. Something YOU OWN?”

I bit my tongue and checked my cellphone clock… she has 72 more minutes then I’ll be drinking Butter beer at the Three Broomsticks.

“Sure.”

She goes on and on about the various properties and how my $5000 could be used to buy “a second home. That I could leave to my children… do you have children?”

“Nope.”

“Well, someday.”

“Can I deduct the cost of this property on my taxes?”

She gets very serious and says “I am not a lawyer or an accountant. You would have to talk about that with your own financial advisers. This is a very reputable company and I don’t want to defraud you. Tax laws vary from state to state. So I do not know.”

(I giggled at the lawsuit that must have spawned that particular disclaimer speech.)

“Can I sell it, if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Sure. And you can rent it out if you don’t use it! You can leave it to your children in your will…”

I nod. Man, 30 minutes in and she’s given me an imaginary $5000 AND children! This place is MAGIC!

We then take a tour of an actual two bedroom unit. She now has 20 minutes left.

“So, what do you think all this would cost?”

“I don’t know.”

“Guess!”

19 minutes left.

“$5000?”

“Well, that’s the BEAUTY of this program. It costs whatever you can afford.”

Turns out, instead of buying property, I could buy *points* which could be exchanged to use their property WHENEVER I WANTED (depending on availability.) If you don’t use those points, they roll over for one year, but then you lose them. So, for say $15,000 I could buy 450,000 points and use them for a one week one bedroom in “where do you want to go?” and have X points left over for renting out a two bedroom in Vegas for a couple of days! Imagine the flexibility, Dawn!”

“So… I’m prepaying for hotels?”

“NO! Not hotels! Hotels are where you THROW MONEY AWAY! THIS IS AN INVESTMENT!”

“An investment in points? That I don’t get tax deductions for?”

She now has 12 minutes left and I am nearly home free. She knows I’m not buying, I know I’m not buying, we are about to be out of each other’s lives…

“Could you use the points for cruises? I want to go on a cruise!”

“Sure, Dawn’s Mom, OF COURSE. In addition to properties, we have partnerships with…”

*head desk*

She shows my mom a package for 308,000 points (or something) for $12,000 with a $5,000 down payment and $300 per month payments.

“Of course, you can just put the whole thing on a credit card with zero interest if you want, instead of using our financing.”

“We’ll think about it.”

“Well, here’s the thing. If you purchase this today, I will give you 612,000 points FOR THE same price! And put you on the VIP roster for three years! But if you decline, then you lose those promotions even if you change your mind later and decide you want it.”

“Decline.”

DECLINE DECLINE DECLINE.

“How about you mom?”

I AM GOING TO STAB YOU IN THE FACE, SEETHA.

“I’d have to think about it, too.”

Whew.

So, she sends in her “manager” who is there to fill out a “customer service quality control form.” They are now 10 minutes OVER the two hours.

But whatever, the form is short and I’ll be outta there in no time.

“So how was Seetha? Was she professional and respectful?”

You mean, after she said “We looked Jamaican”? “Uh huh. yes.”

“And did she show you the unit?”

“Uh huh yes.”

“But you didn’t like it?”

“It was fine.”

“And I hear mom likes cruises…”

*Spidey sense tingling*

“Uh huh…”

“Well, how about this…”

HE then goes into a WHOLE spiel about how you can *rent* the points. “Just try out the program for two years. If you don’t like it, you can walk away WITH NO commitment! For only $2,300, you get everything Seetha offered, without the strings! Just for $500 down and $200 a month. And as a bonus, the company will throw in a two week Alaskan cruise for you and mom!”

“Yes, we’ll take it!”

*HEAD.DESK*

“But I don’t want a monthly bill, I just want to pay the whole two thousand dollars now, because I am old and will probably die soon.”

Did I mention that my mom is weird?

Now, I don’t know if she planned this, and if she did, I suppose it was kind of genius, but still, NOW it’s thirty minutes over the two hours and I was supposed to be wrapping up the HolyLand by now!

“Sure, we can take the payment in one transaction.”

“Well, I have to get it out my retirement fund. Obviously, I can’t do that on a Saturday.”

“No problem, I can charge the $500 today and you can pay the rest on your own time whenever you can get the money.”

“No, I just want to pay everything off one time. Can I just pay for this package when I get home.”

“Sure, but to hold the package, I need a deposit…can your daughter…”

“No, I don’t want her to have any bills. *I* want to pay this off at once.”

They were at a standstill.

I tried not to laugh. Though, I wasn’t quite sure if my mother was being serious or intentionally difficult. In the end, they couldn’t hold the package open without the money and she wasn’t giving them any money. So we got the promised $100 American Express gift card and were on our merry way.

It was about 2 o’clock when we finished the Holyland and I didn’t want to waste $200 for half day at Universal Studios, so I asked my mom what she wanted to do next.

“Isn’t this where the space shuttles are?”

A quick “something search” informed me that Kennedy Space Center was about forty minutes away.

Kennedy was cool! We went on a simulated shuttle launch (though there was a creepy “and this is the second when the Challenger exploded, so hold on to your hats ha ha” moment. And the “Angry Birds” exhibit sorta pissed me off. I MEAN HONESTLY! They had a carnie giving kids the plush birds to throw at spinning targets to see how many they could hit. This has to do with space exploration….how exactly?

We got there too late to take the bus out the Area 51 or whatever to see the launchpads (here is where my nemesis @astinto will say he went out to the launchpads TWICE and they were THEEE BEST part!) but they sold us a half price ticket and we stayed at the park till closing. I became obsessed with the Hubble Telescope after watching the IMAX movie about the last repair. (Mostly obsessed with it falling out of the sky and squashing me to death.) I loved the spiral walkway with pictures of all the shuttle missions and then how they turn bronze once the shuttle blows up. Also, dude, how didn’t more shuttles blow up?! They’re designed to be propelled into space by explosions!! Crazysauce. I laughed thinking about how everyone was all into space, then, after landing on the moon four times, we were like “meh…. been there, done that. I want my MTV!”

On the drive back from Kennedy, I made our objective for the next day clear: WE. ARE. GOING. TO. THE. MAGIC. KINGDOM.

We are getting there when the doors open. We are STAYING there till the doors close. We are DOING/SEEING EVERYTHING THERE IS TO DO THERE.

So, the next morning, we got up at 6 AM, had breakfast at the Waffle House and then headed out to the Magic Kingdom.

Of course, I got lost. Like SUPER lost. I ended up in some loading dock where the security guard was like “You’re following that GEE PEE ESS, aintcha?”

ARRRGGHHHH.

We didn’t get there when it opened and the parking lot was already dang half full!

We took a trolley thing to the main gate. I was totes like “I don’t know how I will ever find that car again (it was a rental WITHOUT a remote beep beep key) but I DON’T CARE! (Actually, I kept repeating Simba 18 Heroes Lot! HA! I still remember! Suck it, old age!)

We bought our tickets and this nice lady gave me a map of the park and suggested some things to do.

Her: Blah blah blah blah blah
Me: Where’s Space Mountain?

THEN we took a ferry to the Magic Kingdom. THEN we took a train to Tomorrow Land!

I thought my mom was just gonna stand around, taking pictures of me on the rides, BUT SHE ACTUALLY WENT ON EVERYTHING!

Space Mountain was pretty damn terrifying, but SPLASH mountain was WAY WAY WAY more awesome!! I screamed SOOOOOOO much! It’s a super well designed ride. And once I figured out the “express ticket” system, we managed to go on everything and NEVER wait for the high demand rides. MAGIC KINGDOM WAS AWESOME!!

They have this movie theather that’s not only 3D, but FOUR D and bubbles/water come out of the screen. There was a sudden downpour in the middle of our trip, so everyone packed into the Hall of Presidents.

AND THAT WAS AWESOME TOO! (Based on all my prior knowledge, gleaned from watching episodes about Itchy and Scratchyland on the Simpsons, I thought this would be cheesy animatronic Abraham Lincolns dancing around. But NO!) They had ALL the Presidents!! Including Barack Obama! And they gave speeches and they showed a movie about America!!! I was all U-S-A! U-S-A! And ready to conquer something in the name of the homeland. (I took a picture of one of my favoritest presidents:
)

The food was pretty abysmal. Anything that seemed edible required reservations, which we didn’t have, so we ended up eating gross ass hotdogs…blech and popcorn.

I was wearing my Rangers t-shirt:

(okay, you can’t really see it, but trust me.)

So we went into the haunted house, which was sooo lame, I didn’t even scream ONCE, and, ask Mary, I am easily frightened. I take that back, I screamed EXACTLY once, when this happened:

We’ve gone through the falling elevator part and are waiting for the moving chairs part. I’m standing in line with my mom waiting in the dark, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. A voice says “BOO!”

I SCREAM.

A dude, I guess he works the ride, steps out of the darkness, points at my shirt and repeats “BOO THE RANGERS. GO BOSTON.”

My mom is laughing and laughing. I shake my fist.

Afterwards, she goes “the best part of that ride wasn’t even a part of the ride!”

I shake my fist again.

We went on all the rides, I think after Splash Mountain, my favorite was the Buzz Lightyear one. My mom and I did the race car things. She was all afraid to get in the car by herself till she saw a five-year-old hop in the one in front of her. One of our rides was “suspended due to lightning” in the area. But then reopened like ten minutes later. O_o

By nightfall, we had only missed one ride: Peter Pan.

We took a break to watch the parades.

And then fireworks over the castle.

And I saw Mickey Mouse, and Minnie Mouse and Belle and The Little Mermaid and I danced with Chip N Dale and Pluto (who my mom KEPT calling Goofy! SO EMBARRASSING! ) It was super late and I had to be back at work first thing the next morning, so I almost left, but then decided, nah, gotta finish. So we went back to the Peter Pan ride! And didn’t leave the Magic Kingdom till like 1 AM.

Of course, I got lost getting back to the hotel SOOO basically, we got back, packed and headed to the airport to catch our 6 AM flight.

All in all, it was an awesome weekend, I got to see space shuttles and Jesii, see a TomorrowLand where there is a TV and microwave oven in every home, and nobody bought any timeshare points!

During the flight back, now surer than EVER that my mom’s story about Disneyworld was utter BS, I cleared my throat and said “soo, you’re saying we did that when I was four and I didn’t like it? You still sticking to that story?”

“Umm… thinking back, maybe it wasn’t Disney world. Maybe it somewhere else.”

YAH! SOMEWHERE ELSE LIKE YOUR IMAGINATION!!!!!

Wait till I TELL DIANA ROSS ABOUT THIS!

:

Trying to forgive you for abandoning me
Praying but I think I’m still an angel away

Angel away, yeah strange in a way
Maybe that is why I chase strangers away
They got their guns out aiming at me
But I become near when they aiming at me

Me, me, me against them
Me against enemies, me against friends
Somehow they both seem to become one
A sea full of sharks and they all smell blood

Once, in what seems now like a lifetime ago, someone told me that I was trying to give myself the childhood I never had. If I recall correctly, it wasn’t intended as a flattering assessment; but who knows if I recall correctly, I am old and feeble minded. However, on this particular occasion, that description of my Orlando trip is as apt as any I could provide on this rainy Monday morning.

I know nothing about Orlando.

Frankly, the entirety of Florida frightens me, but Disney World?

Disney World was the holy grail of young Dawn Summers’ aspirations. There was getting adopted by Diana Ross, then go to Disney World. There was marrying Michael Jackson, then go to Disney World. There was crime fighting with the A-team and then… yadayada Disney World.

And it wasn’t just the ubiquitous television commercials, though I suppose they had their affect. When I was 7 or 8, we took a camp field trip to Coney Island. After intense soul searching and displaying unspeakable bravery, I managed to go on the Cyclone — the amusement park’s signature deathtrap. I was SO proud of myself.

“I DID IT! I DID IT! I DID IT!”

“The Cyclone is nothing compared to Space Mountain. That’s a real roller coaster. Have you ever been to Space Mountain, Dawn?” asks this really annoying girl in my unit. I can picture her stupid face, but I can’t remember her stupid name.

“Nah.”

“Yeah, I went to Disneyworld last year for Christmas. Space Mountain was really scary! Much better than the Cyclone.”

*Glares*

“Disneyworld is for babies.” I replied. “Did you take pictures with Mickey Mouse?” I walked away before she could answer. Because frankly, a picture with Mickey Mouse WOULD. BE. AWESOME!!!

*cries*

When my mom picked me up from the babysitter’s house, I had a singular focus: “Can we go to Disney World? I have to go on Space Mountain…um…for school?”

I don’t remember what my mother answered, but I do know that for the next year, whenever anyone anywhere asked me what I wanted, the answer was “go to Disney World.”

Finally, my mother relented and said “if you get all Excellents on your report card, we’ll go.”

Pfft. Easy. So I got ALL Excellents on my fifth grade report card, dropped it triumphantly on the kitchen table and was all “Soooo… Disneyworld, here I come!”

AND THEN THIS WOMAN SAYS “We already went to Disney World.”

What the what?

She then proceeds to explain about how she and my godmother and godsister already went to Disney World and it was too crowded and I didn’t like it.

O_o

Um…when was this?

“I dunno, a few years ago. Or more. You were young, like four.”

Again: O_o

“And, yet you’ve never mentioned this. And I don’t remember this AT. ALL.”

“You were young.”

Have I mentioned: O_o

Anyway, so apparently, I wasn’t going to Disney World. So, we went to Coney Island. I got to ride the Cyclone. I wrote all this down in my letter to Diana Ross explaining that my adoption needed to be sped the hell up!

Grrrr.

So, now you can understand how vulnerable I was to a voice on the phone promising me Disney World FOR FREE! Er… I mean Orlando.

As I made all the arrangments for the Orlando trip, I discovered that Disney World was many many parks. And they all cost A BILLION DOLLARS. Sadly, I discovered that Captain EO and Space Mountain were not in the same one either. #Cry

And the Harry Potter park was not in Disney World AT ALL. #DoubleCry

I chose Space Mountain. Because FUCK THAT STUPID FACE GIRL, AMIRITE?

But since I was going with my senior citizen mother, I figured I should also do something she would like. Do you know what my mother likes? Jesus.

So it was, that my first day in Orlando involved going to the Holyland… Experience.

I encourage you to google “Holyland Experience.” Hopefully, you will come across some of the awesome reviews I read

“It was like being in Israel”!

“Our leader looked like a Jew, but he seemed to have good command of Jesus, so I wasn’t too turned off.”

I am a very good daughter.

We got to the Holyland… experience and the guy at the intake desk, who was wearing a gold toga, explained that if we hurried we could make it for the “Greatest Story Ever Told” show and then tour the grounds afterward. My mother didn’t want to rush, so she bought us a two day pass. (I gathered they didn’t sell very many of these because the intake guy was like “really? for both of you?)

I too, was thinking “really? for both of us?”

We did hurry to make the show though, because there was only one scheduled — always at five pm, and I had plans to be at the Harry Potter… experience at 5 pm the next day.

We arrived at the theater and it was HUGE. AND FULL. Recording was not allowed in the theater. This set off alarm bells. I don’t trust anything anyone doesn’t want me to show the internets. We took seats in the second row.

The show began with actors walking through the aisles selling traditional Middle Eastern fare. Then cut to young Joseph and Mary hanging out before “the guys” sweep him away for his bachelor party. Mary wanders around the makeshift market for a while until the arch angel appears before her and tells her about God’s plans for her uterus.
She’s all “me? But I’m just a humble virgin girl.” (Direct quote) They show the holy spirit doing its business (lights and effects) and then a pregnant Mary is walking with Joseph to the stable. They have actors in animal suits walking around simulating “stable.” They then show Mary singing songs to the baby Jesus and then fast forward to John the Baptist telling everyone to get baptized AND THEN THE BIG REVEAL: Adult Jesus descends from the ceiling and asks John to baptize him. (THE AUDIENCE GOES NUTS! Applause and “yes, Jesuses” reverberate through the auditorium.

John is all “no, you are the King of Kings, you should baptize me!” And Jesus is all “no, no you baptize ME” And then adult Jesus gets into A REAL fountain that they’ve rigged to the rafters and emerges from the water, spraying the audience with water as he flings his long, wet mane back into place… like the white lady with the braids in that movie the perfect ten.

(Audience members raise their arms as the water flicks down on them. You can tell the repeat attendees because they have taken prime dousing seats! I did not get wet.)

Now adult Jesus walks through the audience performing miracles. (Like for real real. I guess the VIP members write their ailments on paper before the show and Jesus picks certain ones out because he’s walking through saying “Sarah Martin from MT Holyoke? Rise and be healed of your ulceritis!” “John Mackly from Miami, RISE and walk to me (at which point, the health aide helps this dude out of his wheelchair and he takes a few halting steps toward Jesus.” The crowd gasps and then applauds. I desperately try not to laugh. Although, by this point, I’m closer to horrified than amusement.)

Then comes the betrayal and people are booing Judas — OH but TWIST! The play decides to make the devil a real character. (Like there’s a dude dressed all in black with a goatee. He has harpies and black smoke with him. TIS HE who moves Judas to betray Jesus and pushes Pontius to convict. THE DEVIL WAS THERE! (This will be important to remember for later.) So they crucify Jesus (stage COVERED in blood, whipping, hammering THE WHOLE DEAL, SUCK IT MEL GIBSON!)

Then, there’s a break in the action when the centurion who did the nailing, is all repentant like and he has a whole monologue and then repudiates his previous beliefs and accepts Jesus into his heart and then he invites the audience to stand and repeat the “acceptance of Jesus” prayer with him. And people stand.

I do not stand. Or repeat the Jesus acceptance prayer. THEN, the Centurion leaves and the stage is NOW set up like Thunderdome and Jesus is back, but he’s ALL in white and he’s there TO FIGHT THE DEVIL AND THE HARPIES! LIKE GLADIATOR STYLE! SO JESUS AND THE DEVIL FIGHT! AND IT’S AWESOME! Jesus falls to the floor and the Devil goes to do that flying jump elbow to the throat off the ropes move, but Jesus rolls away and the Devil hits the floor. Then Jesus takes the devil in the headlock and the arch angel Gabriel counts down from ten! AND THEEEEE WINNNER IISSSSSS “JEEESSSSUUSSSS” And the bell rings and Jesus comes back to life and then he ascends to heaven and you see the thief who was crucified next to him and Jesus rides up on a unicorn. (I AM NOT EVEN MAKING THIS UP! Believe me, I WISH I HAD THOUGHT OF ANY OF THIS!!)

So then Jesus gives his big speech about the Book of Life and he writes in the names of his friends (like Mary the prostitute (that’s what he says) and “the centurion” (again this is what he says) and then he turns to the audience and says “will I write your name next?”

And people start standing and saying “yes lord, yes lord!”

So then Jesus calls those who wish to be written into the book to come to him on stage. My mother is all whispering “gooo” and motioning with her hands to me and I’m all “ARE YOU NUTS, WOMAN?” But with my eyes.

Then they let us out and we walked around the grounds. Mind you, we had tickets TO RETURN AGAIN THE NEXT DAY!!!!!

There were many displays featuring the Holy Family manger scene.

And Jesus doing stuff scenes.

They recreate the tomb where Jesus was laid to rest, including a roll-a-way boulder:

The next day, we made it back to “have communion with Jesus.” You walk into the supper setting and Jesus appears (wearing a headset) and narrates the last supper while the audience partakes of the life and the blood. (No pictures were allowed.)

Afterwards, people knelt before him and he laid his hands on them. Interestingly, it was a totes different Jesus than the one from the Greatest Story Ever Told. None of these Jesuses were black. After whispering this observation and announcing that I was going to ask that question, my mother took me out of the last supper, forcibly by the hand. RAY-CES.

“WHAT DO WE WANT? BLACK JESUS! WHEN DO WE WANT HIM? NOW!”

My mother went around to see more “artifacts of Jesus,” I went to buy an ice cream cone. As all women did in the olden days.

OH AND THERE WAS AN ARK. And an entire mini Jerusalem, which was proclaimed to be “accurate in every detail and to scale.” So… you know, crossing “go to Jerusalem” right off the bucket list.

All of this hobnobbing with Jesus lasted way into the afternoon and I decided Harry Potter would be too crowded at that point on a Saturday. (We had gotten a late start for our return to the Holyland…Experience because that morning I had my timeshare presentation, the subject of PART TWO!)

Stay tuned for our thrilling conclusion!

Dead at 89

Frank R. Lautenberg, who fought the alcohol and tobacco industries and promoted Amtrak as a five-term United States senator from New Jersey, died Monday morning. He was 89.

What a weird way to open an obit … when I die, please know that I supported alcohol. Alcohol is your friend. I do oppose tobacco though. And puppies and kittens. They WILL eat your face.

A few days ago, I was moping around and channel surfing. I came upon the feed from the Mets game and noticed they were playing our cross town rivals.

Aww balls.

First, the Rangers get clocked in the face by Boston, now I got four days straight of subway series NONSENSE. (In the last three years the Mets have won one out six. EVERY YEAR. There was this ONE year when it looked like we might win TWO out of six and then this shit happened: http://www.iviewtube.com/v/58590/yankees-beat-mets-on-luis-castillo-error Oy.

So, not pleased was I. The game was scoreless in the sixth and I just kept watching. And then we were losing and I kicked myself for getting involved at all. Then it was tied! AND THEN WE WON! But then I was like… dang, at least when the win is in he middle, you can enjoy a couple more games — to win the first one and lose the rest, blah!

And sure enough, the next day we were losing good and properly THEEE WHOLE way. I went to bed in the eighth. But when I woke up the next morning, all the news stations were talking about the Mets sweeping the Yankees at home! I had missed the game winning bottom of the ninth heroics! I felt like those Bruins idiots who left Game 7 in the 3rd because they were down three goals.

I was jazzed! HA! Take that stoopid Yankees.

Then Game three, I hadn’t even turned the game on and the Mets were already up by a run. Then they were up by 5! I took the subway home and they were up 6! IT WAS CRAAAZZYYY.

We win three. And then I started to hope. I googled pictures of brooms. Could it really happen? Or is THIS how they crush our little hearts, we get sooooo close to a sweep and come up short.

I left work early so I could watch at home. I turn on the TV, Mets have a 2-0 lead, but stupid Dylan Gee is pitching. (I have previously explained that Gee doesn’t just have a decimal point in his ERA, he has a comma. He’s plum awful and loves pitching grand slams and back to back homers to opposing teams.)

“Oh no. Not Gee,” I sigh. Thirty seconds later, Cano smacks a homerun and cuts the lead in half.

Cry.

Oh vell.

But nothing else bad happens! I was actually bummed when they took Gee out in the eighth and not for the usual reasons that I’m bummed when they finally take Gee out! Mets still winning! The Mets extend the lead and we come to the bottom of the ninth. Here we go.

This is it, I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers… 2 outs “…and the Yankees are down to their last strike….”

“AND HE STRUCK HIM OUT!!”

YYYYAAYYAAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAAYAYAYAYAYAYYAAYYAYYAAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAAYYAAY

THEEEEE MEEEETTTTTSSSSSS SSSSSWWWWEEEEPPPPPPPPP TTHHHHEEEEE YYYAAANNNKKKKEEEESSSSSS FFFOOORRRR TTTHHHEEEEE FFFIIIIRRRSSSSTTT TTTTIIIMMMEEEEEE EEEEEVVVVVEEEERRRRRRR.

*does the wop*

And so, in honor of my underdogs in orange and blue:

Have a great weekend, everybody!