I cringe around Disney paraphenalia - movies, cartoons, 42 year old women who wear denim shirts with Winnie The Pooh embroidered on the lapel, any combination of normal hats that have black mouse ears affixed to them...I'm sure you get my point. I have never understood the pull of all things Disney (or Warner Bros. but we won't get into that right now). Radio Disney, DisneyTV, Mickey Mouse Club, Aaaaah! I can't take it! Dogs and ducks with stupid voices are just that. Stupid.
I dislike cartoons. There. I said it.
I have been fortunate enough to travel to Orlando & the Disney complex 5 times. Each time, I hate it a little bit more. I don't understand why faux facades in a matching time frame or theme are interesting. I pity the employees that are made to wear polyester striped vests over polyester button-down shirts, with polyester calf-length skirts or long, sweaty black pants. DID THE COSTUME DESIGNER NOT REALIZE THE GEOGRAPHY OF THIS FACILITY?!
Visit 1: 1986, family vacation. I look like I'm having fun in all the photos, but I didn't ride rollercoasters or scary rides then. So my pale father and my pale self sat in the shade with some form of ice cream while my mother and sister rode Space Mountain eleventy million times. Sister freaked out over "meeting" Cinderella, while I looked down at her dress and wondered if any of the other kids saw the holes along the yoke in her very fluffy, blue tulle waistline.
Visit 2: early 1990's, accompanying my mother on a business trip. Spent most of my time alone in the pool at the off-"campus" Swan & Dolphin resort, eating chicken salad from room service and avoiding my mother's wooden-jewelry wearing colleagues.
Visit 3: February 1998, college dance team nationals. In the throes of a battle with mono, I went to cheer on my teammates as they competed. Boy, what fun- watching someone else dance in my spot. Hoo boy. Spent rest of "vacation" in hotel, gumming down ice cubes and taking vicodin.
Visit 4: 2001, high school dance team nationals. Woke up each morning with an enormous baseball outside my door. Odd. Worked as a judge, spent most of my time keeping my mouth shut (or at least trying to), sitting up nice and straight, and barging in on Cheer/Dance Company X's CEO/President/Founder while he was getting his make-up applied. All I wanted was a bagel, dammit. Whoops.
Visit 5: 2001, college dance team nationals. Attending as the coach of a team competing in D-1 for the first time. Chaperoned members to places like Pleasure Island, while trying to stay "cool" and "hip" without relinquishing my position of authority. Wanted to ensure they didn't get wasted and go back to some random cheerleader guy's room and get killed/raped/attacked/etc. Just ended up slightly drunk and very, very tired. Team got last place and did not qualify for finals. Large victory/accomplishment for program nonetheless.
I really, genuinely hope that some other amusement park has become more popular by the time I have kids, because I don't know if I can take mine there in good conscience. I would hate for their childhood memories to involve me, with a big scowl on my face, standing next to Pluto at the weekly characters breakfast. Maybe I'll just plan on being the one taking the photos.
Trying googling "I hate Disney." The results are pretty funny.
I dislike cartoons. There. I said it.
I have been fortunate enough to travel to Orlando & the Disney complex 5 times. Each time, I hate it a little bit more. I don't understand why faux facades in a matching time frame or theme are interesting. I pity the employees that are made to wear polyester striped vests over polyester button-down shirts, with polyester calf-length skirts or long, sweaty black pants. DID THE COSTUME DESIGNER NOT REALIZE THE GEOGRAPHY OF THIS FACILITY?!
Visit 1: 1986, family vacation. I look like I'm having fun in all the photos, but I didn't ride rollercoasters or scary rides then. So my pale father and my pale self sat in the shade with some form of ice cream while my mother and sister rode Space Mountain eleventy million times. Sister freaked out over "meeting" Cinderella, while I looked down at her dress and wondered if any of the other kids saw the holes along the yoke in her very fluffy, blue tulle waistline.
Visit 2: early 1990's, accompanying my mother on a business trip. Spent most of my time alone in the pool at the off-"campus" Swan & Dolphin resort, eating chicken salad from room service and avoiding my mother's wooden-jewelry wearing colleagues.
Visit 3: February 1998, college dance team nationals. In the throes of a battle with mono, I went to cheer on my teammates as they competed. Boy, what fun- watching someone else dance in my spot. Hoo boy. Spent rest of "vacation" in hotel, gumming down ice cubes and taking vicodin.
Visit 4: 2001, high school dance team nationals. Woke up each morning with an enormous baseball outside my door. Odd. Worked as a judge, spent most of my time keeping my mouth shut (or at least trying to), sitting up nice and straight, and barging in on Cheer/Dance Company X's CEO/President/Founder while he was getting his make-up applied. All I wanted was a bagel, dammit. Whoops.
Visit 5: 2001, college dance team nationals. Attending as the coach of a team competing in D-1 for the first time. Chaperoned members to places like Pleasure Island, while trying to stay "cool" and "hip" without relinquishing my position of authority. Wanted to ensure they didn't get wasted and go back to some random cheerleader guy's room and get killed/raped/attacked/etc. Just ended up slightly drunk and very, very tired. Team got last place and did not qualify for finals. Large victory/accomplishment for program nonetheless.
I really, genuinely hope that some other amusement park has become more popular by the time I have kids, because I don't know if I can take mine there in good conscience. I would hate for their childhood memories to involve me, with a big scowl on my face, standing next to Pluto at the weekly characters breakfast. Maybe I'll just plan on being the one taking the photos.
Trying googling "I hate Disney." The results are pretty funny.
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