skylanth

The continuation of the Disney World saga - day 2: EPCOT.

While the tone of the Magic Kingdom is definitely whimsical, EPCOT has a more serious tone. Not completely serious, as that would cut into how entertaining it all is supposed to be, but EPCOT is ultimately a park for older children and adults. There are no princess breakfasts. There aren't that many rides, and there are many more movie-type shows. And there are many adult beverages to be enjoyed. EPCOT is a park for people who appreciate atmosphere and feel like learning a bit while on vacation. Not too much, it's not a museum by a long shot, but the mind is engaged and learns interesting tidbits here and there among the Disney hospitality.

When Walt Disney started out with ideas for Disney World, he thought up EPCOT as "Experimental Prototype City of Tomorrow" where people would live for a time in his futuristic utopia and enjoy all the most groundbreaking of technology. There would be schools and commercial areas and places for people to work. This did not get built, probably because people came to the conclusion that this would be creepy. Some have pointed out the nearby Disney-designed town of Celebration, but as far I can tell, this is just a planned community of large and very expensive houses with an extremely strict HOA and piped-in birdsong. I'm sure this appeals to a certain number of people, but for the rest of us there is the EPCOT theme park which is hourglass-shaped and contains Future World and World Showcase. The over-arching themes seem to be Humanity and Stewardship.

We traveled to EPCOT via a very stuffy bus with a couple thousand of our new best friends. One can take the monorail there, but for us at Fort Wilderness we would have had to take a bus to the Magic Kingdom and then a monorail to the Transportation and Ticket Center and then to another monorail...or taken a boat to Magic Kingdom and so on and so fourth. We just took a non-magical or technologically interesting bus, and discovered that this park (as many others do) has a special entry turnstile for Cast Members and their guests. We pushed through and were confronted with EPCOT's centerpiece, which is the big golf ball of Spaceship Earth. Why it's called that is not really clear to me as it doesn't represent Earth other than being round, but it is not only a monument but a dark ride which tells the story of human communication through animatronics and historical scenes. It's a fun ride, but focuses solely on European, Middle-Eastern, and 19th-20th century American accomplishments. Oh well. The golf ball is very large, but not that large. The ride's narration is performed by Dame Judy Dench, though, so that commands some respect. Our ride through the centerpiece completed, we explored the rest of Future World.

EPCOT uses the term "pavilions" instead of "lands", though this makes more sense on the World Showcase side of things, as each represented country has a pavilion as they would at a World's Faire. Over in Future World there is the definite pavilions of The Land, The Seas (with Nemo, apparently), Imagination, and...some general areas dedicated to energy, space, and ...cars? The area to the Right of Spaceship Earth is nicely laid out. The area to the Left is a bit confusing, but still enjoyable. We headed to The Seas next and went on the Finding Nemo ride, which is an omnimover dark ride filled with much of what the Finding Nemo Submarine ride in Disneyland has to offer its guests. The main difference is that the animated characters are from time to time projected into large tanks holding actual fish, which is a nice piece of wizardry. The Seas also includes aquarium-type exhibits, Turtle Talk with Crush (which we didn't see), a manatee rehabilitation exhibit, and a very nice dolphin habitat with some handsome dolphins who wouldn't cooperate for the camera no matter what f-stop setting I used. High-rolling guests can go SCUBA diving in the beautiful coral reef habitats and participate in dolphin interaction sessions (which sadly do not include SCUBA diving with the dolphins, though that could be a logistical nightmare), and can have meals in a restaurant featuring an entire wall of glass looking out into the fish exhibits. It's a very beautiful pavilion and I wish we had spent more time there.

The Land Pavilion was next. This pavilion is contained in a large building that really looks like a multi-level student union. Food court in the middle, and attractions radiating off the sides. Soarin' is the main E-Ticket here, but since it's exactly the same as Soarin' Over California, we skipped it. We instead went on a gentle river-cruise through sparkling greenhouses where new high-tech farming techniques are showcased (some research is also done here, though presentation is much more the goal). Little-used plants are shown as potential cash crops for a changing world, and hydroponic gardens are demonstrated, though this technology is already in use, at least in my apartment.

It should be noted, as this will come up time and again within this park and others, that the issue of conservation and future resource management is brought up time and again, though in a very rosy light. A bit too rosy for the likes of my family, who have a rather grim if perhaps accurate view of the challenges facing humankind as we deal with a natural world that we have collectively unwisely used (I should note that I've decided not to have children as I don't want to contribute more people to an over-populated world where the life offered them may indeed be worse than my own). But we have to realize that this is a Theme Park, and while conservation and education are key goals from time to time, if you guilt trip people, they won't find the parks to be very entertaining. This is still about entertainment, after all. This is not Anthropology 235: Humans And Their Environment. There will be no quizzes. What we learned at Disney World about water pollution will most likely not effect how we go about our day-to-day lives. But the theme park is highlighting the natural world, so it's prudent to talk about such anthropological subjects. And they do it fairly well.

The Seas pavilion was very nice. The Land was okay. Imagination was pretty much a flop. They have a Captain EO 3D movie there, but Disneyland has the same thing, and we had little interest. There is another ride there that we foolishly went on, and that I had decent hopes for. Journey Into the Imagination with Figment has serious potential as an idea, but the childish and cheap dark ride really falls flat. A scientist is trying to explain the process of imaginative thought, but a seriously out-dated computer animated dragon, of dumpy appearance and of ugly yellow sweater, keeps interrupting with not-very-imaginative gags, such as turning into a skunk and farting on the poor captive audience who may have escaped if it weren't for the lap bars. Parts of the ride contain just darkness and projection screens, which Shawna calls "the part where they ran out of money". There is a play area with interactive exhibits to explore after the ride lets out, but they are also out-dated (who uses a track ball and single button as a sole method of interacting with a computer exhibit?) and each play the same Sherman Brothers song over and over again. It's not even a very good Sherman Brothers song. We decided that if someone wants an exploration of the power of imagination, one should just go watch Fantasmic. We wasted time here. Okay, not completely - the fountains are kind of cool.

Crossing over to the other side of Future World, we found Test Track and Mission Space. Test Track is a ride designed around prototype car testing, though what it illustrates probably would only surprise children. It is quite a fun ride, though, as the cars (which contain no steering wheels, it should be noted) climb inclines, go over bumpy roads, "slide around" to simulate the usefulness of anti-lock breaks, and accelerate towards a barrier in a surprise scenario that surprises no one, as the barrier looks suspiciously like a door. It is a door, imagine that! The car then races around a circular track in what is the most fun part of the attraction. Sadly, we were only able to ride once, I would have liked to ride again. Mission Space is a simulated journey to Mars in which you are encouraged to sit back and relax, though you are briefed in how to land the space ship in case the auto-pilot malfunctions (well, what do you think is going to happen?). People are loaded into rectangle-shaped boxes seating four people, and the boxes tilt and swing to simulate different aspects of the trip. There are two identical versions, though in one variation, the simulators are arranged as pods on a centrifuge and are whirled around to simulate degrees of gravity and weightlessness. We decided not to go for that version, as apparently the spinning is notorious for causing motion sickness (even the simply swinging pods have a supply of barf bags on hand). My family is simply not suited for space travel, simulated or actual. This side of the park also includes the World of Energy, but we heard it wasn't worth our time, so we avoided it.

We did find the Coca-Cola shop, though, and got the chance to try many different sodas from around the world in a self-serve exhibit which didn't have the crowds I would expect for an attraction offering free samples. Perhaps it's more well-frequented on hotter days. We very much enjoyed the free soda, though we were split in our tastes for the apparently notorious "Beverly" flavor, which is quite bitter. Mom and I really liked it, but Shawna and Dad thought it tasted like licking an aspirin.

By then, we were hungry so we decided to start exploring World Showcase on the other side of the hourglass. The countries represented by pavilions seem to be an odd bunch - Europe is well-represented (Germany, France, Italy, England, Norway), as is Asia (China, Japan), but the only country approaching Africa is Morocco and while the Americas is represented by Canada, the US, and Mexico, that's as far South as they go. With the exception of Morocco, the pavilions don't seem to be sponsored by governments, so there doesn't seem to be a political connection to the choices. Well, there is precious little room for more countries around the large lake in the middle of this part of the park, so I don't expect the line-up to change. We were planning to go to Japan for lunch ("walking to Japan" was a very amusing phrase we uttered a few times) but got sidetracked at Morocco when we smelled the schwarma. After some excellent Middle-Eastern cuisine, we started exploring. Many countries offer a movie to highlight the greatness of their country - Canada and China have CircleVision movies, and China's is especially attractive. Mexico and Norway both have rides, though the 3 Caballeros theme of Mexico's ride was amusing to us who are familiar with that relic of Disney animation, Norway's "Malstrom" was confusing and forgettable (but did offer the chance to travel in Viking ships). All pavilions offered delicious food and drink, and lots of shopping which the ladies enjoyed and Dad tried to avoid. We had pretzels and beer in Germany, wine in France, and a dinner of sushi in Japan (finally made our way over). China offered acrobats, England had an impressive rock band, and Japan had a massive store full of the most adorable merchandise as no one does cute like the Japanese!

We ended the day with EPCOT's fireworks show "IllumiNations: Reflections of Earth" in which the fireworks are accompanied by a large spinning Earth whose continents are curved LED screens showing video of inspiring life on this planet (mostly people and animals, though it was hard to make out). The globe eventually splits open like one of those chocolate oranges people enjoy around Christmas-time to reveal an impressive torch. Other torches around the lagoon also light up to the rousing song "We Go On". It's very...well, the show was written for the 2000 celebration (and perhaps a bit for the Olympics) so it really has the "We're all in this Together" message to it. It's a nice show, though a little hard to tell what was going on. I only learned about the symbolism of the torches when I read about the show on Wikipedia - it wasn't very obvious what they were trying to get across with those, as there isn't one for each pavilion as I would have expected (there are 19, one for each century in the Common Era, and the 20th is in the split-open Earth). The show is pretty good. It's not the best fireworks show I've seen, but it's a very good use of all that water in the middle of the park and it was not hard to get a great viewing space to see the show, as the shoreline is a mile or so long.

Overall, EPCOT is lots of fun, though my enjoyment may have been a direct product of discovering a new park. Magic Kingdom was great, but is a very close cousin to Disneyland park and offered only minor exploration thrills. I went on rides and viewed shows at EPCOT with very little idea of what to expect. And I suppose the thrill of discovery is another EPCOT theme. It's a very fulfilling park and worth another walkthrough, which we enjoyed a few days later.

Stay tuned for Part 3: Animal Kingdom!

Ah, I should address that last time I wrote here with any enthusiasm, I was covering my last trip to Washington State. Three months ago. Ah...that's a bit embarrassing, isn't it? Well, here's a quick wrap-up. Friends and I, we went to Pike Place Market and found the metal pig statue. It was very crowded and rainy. Some guy was playing "In Your Eyes" on his guitar, which was awesome. I achieved my goal of finding a good memorial sweatshirt (Seattle Rain Festival Jan 1st - Dec 31st) and after wandering the market, we got fancy pants cupcakes and excellent pizza.
We also had sushi from a conveyer belt sushi joint and visited IKEA. And then I flew home, sad to leave. As always.

Okay! Glad I got that finished. So, Walt Disney World, which I'll call WDW from here on out, if you don't mind. Shawna, my dear sister, has been working her tail off for Disneyland for...about three years at this point. Continued employment with the Disney company looked good, so she decided to cash in some of her Cast Member benefits - complimentary tickets to the WDW theme parks, and deeply discounted hotel room rates. Born and raised in California, we had Disneyland to go to if we could afford a Disney vacation - WDW was pretty much out of the question. But now, with Shawna's discounts and the offsprings' ability to buy their own plane tickets, the possibility of a WDW pilgrimage came into view. We were advised to visit in February, and so we bought plane tickets. The September before, in my case. We waited and waited and finally, February arrived.

Flight, Orlando Airport, meeting up with the family, bus trip over to WDW - all not very interesting. We were all too tired to really notice where we were being driven on the Magic Express bus, and it was quite late by that point anyway. We'd elected to stay at Fort Wilderness Resort, which consists of a campground (mostly for RVs) and cabins. The cabins have two rooms and a full kitchen, which worked perfectly for a family of four adults who didn't want to eat at Disney restaurants for every meal of every day. Indeed, half of what I packed was food - dried soups, pasta, breakfast foods, snacks, crackers, and other pantry staples that could be whipped up in short order to provide us with theme park fuel at a small fraction of restaurant prices. The cabin (they are all pre-fabricated units similar to intensely themed mobile homes) was the cleanest cabin we'd ever seen, and very low on Disney theming. Oh, it was there: hidden Mickeys in the bedspread and curtain fabrics, concept art of Frontierland hung on the walls, soaps stamped with Mickey Mouse, who grins happily no matter what part of your body you're scrubbing. With a bunk bed and double bed in the bedroom proper and a murphy bed in the living room, it offered lots of sleeping space. The cleaning staff even washed our dishes when we were feeling too rushed to put them in the dishwasher ourselves. We admired all of this and then fell asleep as quickly as we could. For it was off to the first theme park early the next morning, and it was the mother of them all - the Magic Kingdom.

Now, we knew the property of WDW was large. We didn't quite understand how large. WDW is huge, and to my untrained eyes, there's a lot of open land. And in many ways, that's a fantastic thing. While on property, we could not see a smidgen of the outside world. This approach is of course used (pioneered, even) in Disneyland, but here it's taken to a whole new level. No buildings over the trees, no freeway noise, no fences, and very very few access roads or "backstage" structures. The thick pine forests have a lot to do with this. WDW seems to have been built in the middle of a slash pine forest and swamp, and it seems that much of it wasn't tampered with where it could serve a screening or atmospheric purpose. WDW is so big that it doesn't just hold abandoned buildings, it holds entire abandoned theme parks (a water park and a small animal-themed island with exhibits and shows). But good luck getting to them, as the buses, monorails, and boats don't go there, and you simply can't get anywhere by walking unless you're very determined and good at hiding - pedestrians aren't allowed on the roads linking the parks. And the distances are just too great. The small Fort Wilderness campground area is a mile long. Campground buses were a must to travel just in our lodgings, and visiting the camp store could take an hour or more if we timed the buses incorrectly. I can see why Fort Wilderness is not recommended for first-time guests with small kids: getting to a theme park requires a walk, a bus ride to yet another bus or a ferry boat. It took about an hour to get from cabin to gate and while that was fine with us, any 6 year old would be a basket case by then. Talk about getting away from it all, though! I was expecting the smells and sounds of campgrounds mostly inhabited by motorhomes - generators, failed and smoking campfires, smelly latrines. But I need not have worried, this was Disney, after all. The motorhomes could plug into outlets in their campsites, open campfires are actually not allowed so I don't think many people even bother, and the bathrooms are spotless. We awoke to a humid and warm Florida morning, enclosed in the pine forest, and took our bus down to the shores of Bay Lake.

Unimaginatively-named Bay Lake is at the upper end of the campground and has a white sand beach, which I learned was created when the entire lake was drained and the muck cleared out. Under seven feet of lake slop was pure white sand which was used to build the beaches of the resorts surrounding the edges of Bay Lake and man-made Seven Seas Lagoon which is attached to Bay Lake by a narrow channel that runs above the road. Say what you want about the architectural wonders of Spaceship Earth or Space Mountain, it's the road that goes under the lake which I find absolutely amazing. What's even more fun is that you don't really even notice any difference, except that boats must travel with no wake in this area. To get to the Magic Kingdom, we boarded a cute but plain ferry boat to take us over to the entrance plaza.

The Magic Kingdom is reached by walking, by boat (and there are many to choose from), and by monorail. I'm sure there are roads going to the Magic Kingdom, but they're out of sight. We presented Shawna at the front gates, she waved her cast member ID card, and we had our first of many free tickets to the magic.

It should be said right off that the Magic Kingdom is a copy of Disneyland Park. Not down to every detail, not by a long shot. But there were times throughout the day when I really believed I was back in California, and then was distressed to not see the Matterhorn, as the Magic Kingdom does not have one. They do have a very large castle (Cinderella's, in fact) which is big enough to hold a restaurant and the Magic Kingdom's version of the Dream Suite, and from this hub, the familiar lands open up in every direction. Adventureland, Fantasyland, Main Street with perplexingly taller buildings, Tomorrowland which...looks completely different, and hey - where is Frontierland? Oh, it's on the other side of...Liberty Square. Where's New Orleans Square? Well, it's Florida - the real New Orleans isn't too far away. As we were there in Florida, and therefore in the off-season, many things were under construction. Not that it detracted that much - large covers expertly printed to match the facade of the other buildings were strung over Main Street buildings getting a facelift, and Fantasyland was undergoing a large amount of construction, but being from California, we have the original Fantasyland Classics back home, so didn't need to ride the re-creations out in Florida.

We started by taking the train around the park to get the lay of the land, and discovered that it only has two stations at the moment - Main Street Station and the closeby Frontierland Station. There are no dinosaurs and no Grand Canyon - we mostly looked at trees and the backside of Fantasyland's construction projects. But we at least got the feel for how big the Magic Kingdom is. It's...a bit larger than Disneyland, perhaps. More spread out, but not enthusiastically so. It's still intimate and friendly. We next headed over to Adventureland, which is the land that Shawna is most familiar with back in her home park. But here, Pirates of the Caribbean is part of Adventureland and the Swiss Family Treehouse has remained (and rightfully so!) the Swiss Family Treehouse. We toured the tree, rode a cute Dumbo-esque ride themed around the magic carpet from Aladdin, went on the Jungle Cruise (longer than the one back in Disneyland as it has a journey through a flooded Indonesian temple, but the jokes and presentation aren't nearly as nice), and went on Pirates of the Caribbean, which is in many ways exactly the same as Disneyland's, but has no bayou show room and only one waterfall - possibly because Florida's water table is so close to the surface. There was also a big difference in this ride that I noticed on many other WDW attractions - load and unload are in different parts of the attraction. Haunted Mansion in Disneyland is like this, and it is the same in WDW, but the same concept is applied to Pirates of the Caribbean, Space Mountain, and other individual-vehicle rides. Everyone gets out in the exit room and the vehicles are pulled around to the loading station, empty and ready to receive the next guests.

Splash Mountain is similar to the Disneyland ride, though with less animatronics and more space between scenes (Disneyland harvested the America Sings animals for their Splash Mountain). Same nice drop, though. Same soaking effects. We visited the Haunted Mansion and its amusingly interactive graveyard, marveled at both familiar and unfamiliar effects in the not-very-worrisome haunted house, and then had lunch in Liberty Square at a disappointingly dry tavern. Delicious food, though. We had to check out Country Bear Jamboree, which was a favorite show when Disneyland still had a version - you've got to love an animatronic bear singing Blood on the Saddle, but the sound was turned way down for the performance and it was rather hard to hear what the poor bears were singing. We didn't much care. Hooray, Country Bears! Across the park, then, for Tomorrowland and Space Mountain. First, the People Mover.

This is another vintage concept that was removed from Disneyland but lives on in the Magic Kingdom. These People Movers have no canopies, but zip along with decent enthusiasm under speaker-laden overhangs that comment down at guests about what there is to do in Tomorrowland. There are Autopia cars, but no Submarines. There is indeed Space Mountain, and it's gigantic compared to the thrilling but comparatively un-mountainlike Disneyland version. While Disneyland's current take on Tomorrowland is white and metallic with all-edible landscaping (very nicely executed, too), WDW's Tomorrowland is metallic blue, neon green, and has metal palm trees, though it's not unwelcoming. The look is much more Futuristic Airport, perhaps. You can reach it by large footbridge, which is nice. Tomorrowland also has the classic Carousel of Progress which has the innovative design of an immobile circular stage divided into wedges in the middle, and multiple theater rooms that rotate around the stages. That way, the ride can be loaded in large groups. One room is loaded while the one behind it empties, and the other compartments are enjoying their segments of the show. It's an animatronic journey through time starring a family who never seems to age but is instead gifted with better and better technology. This ride has gone though many versions (the first at the Worlds Fair was, I have heard, about an hour long. No wonder people tried to escape) but still includes the song "There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow". You thought Small World was the song that stuck in your head the worst? You haven't met this Sherman Brothers classic. But it may stick so well because it's actually a good song. We sang it over and over as we progressed through the rooms, finally arriving at a Christmas scene that appears to be updated with the current batch of new technology (flat screen TV, voice activated lights), though the family members and their fashion sensibilities are stuck firmly in the early 80s. Ending back up where we started, and before Space Mountain, we stopped by Monster's Inc Laugh Floor. Monsters in Tomorrowland? ...Sure, why not. Using some of the same technology as Turtle Talk with Crush, this show relies heavily on hidden cameras which pick people out of the audience to gently mock ("Here's the fellow who can get you free churros! Seriously! Churros on him! He has connections!") I can't quote jokes at you as they're all situational, you really have to be there. Regardless, it was hilarious. A good laugh does wonders for the spirit.

And so does a good roller coaster, for that matter. Space Mountain is a pretty decent one! This Space Mountain has two separate tracks and no on-board ride soundtrack. Well, I guess there is supposed to be, but the speakers alongside the track have a lot to compete with. Essentially, there's drums in space, from time to time. Whatever, it doesn't matter. While Space Mountain Disneyland is all stars and galaxies, this Space Mountain has asteroids, comets, planets, and sound effects. Your photo is taken at the start of the ride, even before the lift hill (odd choice) and the ride itself is like a smoother version of the Matterhorn Bobsleds. Except, you know, in the dark. We tried both tracks and decided we liked the Fastpass side (left side) better. Again, the ride exits in a different spot than it loads, prompting the guests to take bit of a hike in order to get back to Tomorrowland. At least there are some green screen areas where guests are projected into alien scenes to make what would be a very long and boring corridor quite entertaining.

At some point, we watched the parade. It was...okay. We thought we'd secured nice seats (stands?) for the performance, but of course we had not. The parade was heavy on characters and light on float design, but then, we have odd priorities and enjoy float design perhaps more than seeing Mickey pretend to drive said float. Fantasyland...we didn't do much in Fantasyland as the lines were far too long for Winnie the Pooh or Peter Pan to really be worth it. Small World had no line, though, and we soon understood why. It's not as good as the original (if that counts as "good", your personal preference plays a big part in deciding this) and is all inside which is decidedly odd when you're used to the outdoor splendor of Disneyland's Small World, which is almost a second castle in its own right. This Small World is condensed and shorter, to the relief of some. There was a boy who was watching us board our boat from an adjacent restaurant. He was shaking his head and motioning for us to turn back before it was too late. But we'd been through the turnstiles and once you've been through the turnstiles, the family rule is that you have to get on and ride the ride, so into the world of singing dolls we went. It seemed that the animation was all turned up a bit too fast, but was cute enough. And we finally were able to catch Liberty Square's longer-running attractions - the Liberty Belle paddle wheel boat around Tom Sawyer's Island (which we did not visit, but I'd probably get stuck in the kid-sized caves, anyway), and Hall of Presidents. The former is a beautiful if unexciting slow ride, and the latter is a show featuring all past presidents in robot form, and Robot Obama giving his oath of office and a short speech. But that makes it sound cheap. It's not. Disneyland has Lincoln, Magic Kingdom has Lincoln, Washington, and Obama giving speeches as all the other presidents look on. Even if they do not talk, these past presidents nod or wave when introduced, and can't help fidgeting from time to time or whispering to each other while they wait for their names to be called. It's an amazing technological achievement. It will be interesting to see how quickly a new animatronic will be put into place, either in November or four years from now, when we get a new president. Will the new commander-in-chief give the same speech that Obama does? It will be interesting to experience as the times change.

I never got my waffle filled with Nutella and strawberries. In fact, I can't remember what I had for dinner. No matter, it was time for fireworks! Before fireworks, though, the castle was used as a giant projection screen for "Magic, Memories, and You" which features photographs (and stock video) of guests. If you're lucky, you'll show up on the castle. Okay, there were photographs, that wasn't the interesting part. The interesting part was that the castle, which is not flat from almost any angle, is acting as a screen for very bright and very high quality projected effects. Fancy projections seem to be Disney's new thing, and I enjoy it very much. And then...fireworks! We had picked a viewing spot in the extensive and mostly unpopulated rose gardens just to the side of the castle so while we were off-center and the fireworks did not appear to erupt right behind or above the castle, they were still highly enjoyable. And loud! Some of the shells are very large, and seem to be shot higher than Disneyland fireworks.

And then we decided we'd had enough. We took our boat back to Fort Wilderness and our bus back to our cabin neighborhood, and crawled under the Mickey-decorated duvets for some quality shut-eye. Verdict? Excellent park. Nice and spacious, beautiful landscaping, and while many things were familiar or downright copies of Disneyland attractions, they're all highly enjoyable. Lines were minimal or nonexistent for most everything we wanted to ride and if there was a crowd, fast passes helped us avoid waiting longer than a few minutes. Off-season is wonderful. The level of detail is intense, and even getting to the park (by boat! Much better than taking HWY 5) is entertaining. As it should be. That's the point.

Next time, photos! The time after that, EPCOT! Experimental Prototype Community Of Tomorrow...except not really any of those. Still wonderful, of course.

Let's start with what I actually /am/ doing, which is writing a journal entry. I haven't done this in months. No one has said anything, so either no one reads this, or all my loyal fans are just too polite to say anything. "No, I don't wish to bother her, I know she's very busy with the science job and the stuffed animal hobby and that semi-feral animal she let loose in the apartment." You're all very thoughtful, thanks for your patience.

So I'm mostly going to write about the holidays, you know, HallowThanksMas. For Halloween, I went over to Orange County to see Shawna, as we had a magnificent idea of going to Target, buying ugly Halloween shirts, and wearing them to Disneyland. We did just that. Disneyland was in Halloween Mode, including the most awesome Ghost Galaxy overlay on Space Mountain. Projectors in a pitch-black room still illuminate whatever they're projected on, even if they're projecting something black, but the rockets are going so fast that you don't really notice. We parted ways at 9pm or so because Shawna had been invited to do a "walkthrough" (see behind the scenes) of the Matterhorn mountain. While she shot baskets in the tiny basketball court in the mountain and marveled at all the nuts and bolts that have fallen off trains at the load/unload providing a cache of spare parts below the track, I watched the World of Color show with a couple people who didn't think they were going to enjoy the show and wondered why they'd waited all day for it. World of Color set it straight. After the show was over and the park shut down, Shawna still wasn't done in the mountain, so I drank beer in the Grand Californian's bar. Not too much beer, they charge $7 for a simple Sam Adams, though they do give out complimentary bowls of spicy mixed nuts and remember to place the napkin /just so/ under the bottle of beer. Halloween night itself...I think I was at work. No, pretty positive I was at work. I was going to try and dress up in a costume, but when the time came, I just couldn't bother to put it all together just to drape a labcoat over the top and ruin the effect. There is one guy at work that wears very fancy stage makeup for Halloween - green face and hands and nice big horns sprouting from his neon red hair, and that does work well with a labcoat - but I don't have the skills or desire to go green for Halloween.

In mid-November, I went up to Washington for an interview. Except it wasn't really an interview, because there technically was no job opening at the lab. Oh, they'd listed one and I applied to it, but then the person who they thought was leaving decided /not/ to go back to school after all. If I had known which tech it was, I would have cornered them and given them a nice pep talk about how education and bettering one's self are very important things in life, and she needs to get a move-on and get out of this silly place. Really, does she want to stare at tubes of blood the rest of her life? But no, no open position at Puget Sound Blood Center. Really, it would have been ideal. It's the same job I do now, with different equipment and instruments in different places. I had a tour, was shown around and shook hands and was explained the benefits packages...and was then told to watch the website and be sure to apply to any jobs that come up that you'd think you'd like! And oh, you didn't come all the way up just for /this/, did you?

Actually no, I didn't. Okay, it was a goal, but I figured I'd make a week of it while I was in the neighborhood of one of my favorite cities. I flew in, rented what turned out to be an extremely tiny clown car, and drove up to Bellingham to see Beth, who these days works in a charming pair of hotels as a night auditor and person-who-gets-you-pillows-at-3am. Makes for some boring nights in old creaky buildings, but the town the hotels are in is just so adorable and the lodgings themselves are very nice - going for the lakeside cabin feel, it seems, that it's not a bad gig. Beth got me a screaming deal on a hotel room which had its own comfy little fireplace and a giant king-sized bed with oceans of blankets. She worked...and I slept until about 5 am when she was almost done with work. We had breakfast and a nap, and then it was up to Bellingham to see Tod, Arsen (briefly, he was running out the door), and Milo. We had blissfully no plans besides "get a lunch", so we went to lunch. We went to a place we'd dined before, Red Robin, because they have menus that cater to our allergies, and they have strawberry lemonade. Delicious. We returned to the home of Tod and Milo to visit and play with the cats until Beth needed her daytime snoozes, so we headed back to Bellingham to see her new boat Gandalf (which was full of rain water) and some adorable deer that often stop by her backyard.

(This is the end of Part Disc 1. Please insert Disc 2.)

(Please forgive the odd formatting. I wrote this journal as an e-mail to myself, and can't seem to fix it.)

There are a lot of things that kids aren't allowed to do. Kids can't
vote. They can't drive themselves to Disneyland any time they feel
like it. They can't file a restraining order against that jerk at
school that always gives them a hard time. There are bedtimes,
expectations about which vegetables must be eaten, and quite a few
"because I said so"s.

But when it comes to fun holiday rituals, kids have a corner on the
market. The Easter Bunny may not have died for our sins, but it's
grand fun to find Easter eggs filled with candies (and sometimes,
coins!). Decorating the Christmas tree is enjoyed by everyone, but I
really got a kick out of it when I was little. I also knew from an
early age that while Santa does bring presents for Mommy and Daddy,
Santa was really focused on filling the kids' stockings with trinkets.
Mom and Dad had their own money and could buy their own goodies. Us
kids had to respect the naughty-or-nice pact we had with Santa (which
we mostly honored, as that was part of the fun). None of these rituals
have practical applications or have deep symbolism, though they may
have started out that way. What they are these days are /fun/, and the
most non-sensical holiday ritual, the most fun, and the one that kids
have a complete monopoly on is Trick or Treating for Halloween.

Trick or Treat! That's the magic phrase. Utter those magic words,
which technically promise property damage unless an offering is made,
and the neighbors that you hardly know will throw a few cents worth of
candy into your cute little plastic pumpkin bucket. As a kid, I LOVED
Halloween, and LOVED trick or treating. The very idea appealed to me,
and not only because of the free candy. I enjoyed dressing up in
costumes, most often of my own design after the age of 7 or so, and I
enjoyed doing the seldom-walked rounds of my neighborhood.

There's a good reason my neighborhood was seldom walked. It wasn't
dangerous or poorly lit, it just happened to be very hilly. Though my
childhood home wasn't very big, the houses that surrounded it were
bordering on the mansion scale, and all were built on lots of at least
a quarter acre. That's a lot of terrain to cover for little feet, even
when protected by pink velcro-fastened sneakers that matched my
CareBear costume Mom had made out of a pair of footsy pajamas. The
payoff was good, though. Many houses, especially those up winding
private drives, would only get eight or ten trick or treaters. So
they'd give out king sized candy bars, or little bags full of candy
and sometimes a Halloween card.

My sister and I would plan Halloween for weeks in advance. As an
excuse to have a nice picnic on the beach, our family often headed
over to Half Moon Bay to buy pumpkins directly from the farmers. I
remember sketching jack-o-lantern designs in the margins of my school
notebooks, trying to figure out the perfect face and how one could get
pumpkin pupils in the eyes without them being attached to the rest of
the shell. We'd carve our pumpkins in the garage over a pile of
newspaper, with dad reluctantly doing the dirty work of scooping out
all the seeds and strings. They never looked very good...until the
candles were put inside and the area lights dimmed. "Ooooh!" we'd all
say, and prayed that they wouldn't develop mold before the big night
(they always did). My sister and I would decorate the path to the
door, though being a raised deck running along the side of the house,
it wasn't very good for decorating. Still, we went out with bags of
fake spiderwebs (to accent the real ones), a few orange holiday
lights, and construction paper gravestones to tape to the walls.

There was no need to buy costumes, we always made them. They weren't
terribly fancy and we did have accessories - a witch hat, a flower
lei, face paint, grandma's fluffy squaredancing skirt. Mom covered my
pale face with cocoa powder and drew a red bindi on my forehead and I
went as a Bollywood starlet. One unfortunate year, I made giant
cardboard butterfly wings - a poor choice for wearing to school.

Mom always made pasta on Halloween because it was quick to make and
quick to eat. Even while we wolfed down our dinner, kids were ringing
our doorbell. True, at that early hour it was usually parents with
toddlers visiting a couple houses before bedtime, but we were
convinced that if we fooled around /eating/, there would be No Candy
Left in the neighborhood houses. Finally, it was time to go out on our
candy quest.

Some kids used pillowcases for bags. Mom thought that was in bad taste
and implied greed. We were armed with smaller bags, but plenty large
for our needs as there weren't all that many houses and the effort to
get to them was considerable. Dad went with us, though eventually he
contented himself with standing at the end of the driveway, out of
sight! and let us perform the trick or treat ritual without Dad having
a conversation with the neighbor over our heads about how cute we
were. Dad also either pulled my sister in a wagon when she was small,
or walked the dog when we had one, and helped us remember which houses
were good ones to visit, and which ones we should avoid.

The bounty was rich. Chocolate, tootsy pops, m&ms, butterfingers, mike
and ikes, bubblegum, kit-kats, almond joys (ehw), sweet tarts, raisins
(why? That's missing the point), blow pops, and jolly ranchers. We had
one neighbor who liked to take pictures of us in our costumes, sitting
in her wicker chair in the entry hall (mom called it the "Mortricia
Chair" as it resembles the high-backed one Mortricia Adams sat in).
I'm sure Mom really liked the pictures, but this particular neighbor
gave out quarters instead of candy (if we got cavities, she wasn't
going to be directly responsible). Some neighbors went all out with
the decorations, and when I was small I wanted to avoid houses with
the scary sound effects (and even precociously told one neighbor that
I hoped she wouldn't put out the scary music next year, or I would not
be visiting!), and the neighbor with large dogs, which he tied to the
bannister of his staircase and figured that would be good enough to
keep the wild beasts from tearing out the throats of the
candy-beggers. The neighborhood, or at least part of the neighborhood,
soundly fleeced of its candy, we would return home with aching feet,
to beg at the door of our own house, thinking that perhaps our
costumes were good enough to fool our own mother (they weren't).

And then, the Great Candy Trade. My sister and I would spend just as
much time bartering with each other over our favorite candies as we
did collecting the loot. My favorite were Butterfinger bars - even the
fun size ones were worth at least two blow pops and three little jolly
ranchers. Neither of us liked any candy bar with coconut - those went
straight to Dad. Dad himself always got to choose some candies, as
after all he had done just as much walking as we had (though he never
said the Magic Words, so I didn't always agree that he should have
some). And then I had to face the fact that some punk kid had smashed
my masterpiece of a moldy jack o lantern in the street. Perhaps Mom
hadn't gotten to the door fast enough with the candy, and the kid
fulfilled the "trick" part of the deal!

Eventually, I realized that I was getting too old for trick or
treating. I started to feel awkward, even though my sister, 4 years
younger than I, was still a perfect age to walk around the
neighborhood with. At some point, I found it more fun to stand at the
door and pass out candy. I used to take notes and make a tally of how
many pirates, princesses, or pikachus showed up on the front stoop. As
a teenager and adult, I've gone to some Halloween parties, but they're
never as much fun. And now, I live in an apartment complex where no
one trick-or-treats (and I ended up eating all the candy I'd bought).
This year, I have to work at my lab job.

But I'm still going to wear a costume and I'm still going to wander from
department to department, asking for treats. I did this last year as well,
and scored great treasures - a nitrile glove, some test tubes, and a
lollypop made out of a little stick and some foam packing. The fun of
a childish Halloween hasn't quite died away.

This is the first of what I hope to be many entries in the contest known as LJ Idol, in which one writes entries based on given prompts, and they are voted off the island if deemed not good enough by the masses, of course! Even though I'm writing on prompts, there should be enough autobiographical navel-gazing to keep my usual readers entertained.

The purest mix of hard work and wishful thinking can be found in the job search. You polish your resume, make sure your ducks are all in a row on your application, try to present yourself as poised and articulate in your interview, and then...you wait. And hope. And wish. And pray, maybe, if you think a deity cares enough about you to instill the thought in a manager's mind that perhaps you - yes, you! would be the most likely choice for the position.

In my case, fortunately, I already have a job. And it's a good job. The company is generally decent to their employees, the work is interesting. I am a lab tech who tests donated blood samples. It's going to be awhile before anyone comes up with a viable alternative to the real thing, so there is excellent job security. Even more job security is offered by the fact that we're currently quite under-staffed. Overtime opportunities abound. There are lots of incentives payed out for hard work and going the extra mile. If I stayed with this company, it is easy to work up to better positions and better pay grades. I seem to be generally well-liked, and there seems to always be free cake in the break room every other week.

There is only one problem. This job is in Phoenix, Arizona. Now, I'm from San Francisco and went to college in the lush redwood forests of Santa Cruz. I took this job knowing full well that I'd be moving to a different climate which mostly revolves around frighteningly hot summers, unfriendly flora, and rocks. And at the time, I needed a job. I was living with my parents, walking people's dogs for cash to put me though phlebotomy school, and learning rather quickly that I simply don't have the bravery or lack of compassion it takes to jam needles into people, especially when it looks like getting blood on the first stab is going to be a slim possibility (my classmates loved me - we practiced on each other and I have some excellent veins). I had a friend out in Phoenix, though, who worked at a lab where my phlebotomy training would come in handy but never actually have to be put into practice. I had a couple interviews, got the job, though I recently learned that I'm the only one who applied, and drove for one very long day to Phoenix. I picked an apartment complex solely by photos on the internet, signed the lease without even seeing the building, and moved in on a beautiful July day with a high temperature of 114 degrees. That was three years and three months ago.

I have tried, very hard, to like Phoenix. I've been to her museums, joined the SCA in a bid to meet friends, had a couple relationships, travelled around the state, and hiked in the open spaces. I volunteered at the Desert Botanical Gardens (where I was mistaken for a member of the teen group, oh, I was so happy!) and attended civic events. And this town...this town just doesn't do it for me.

I do not like triple digit temperatures for five months out of the year, and the enthusiastic air-conditioning bills they generate (my apartment is set at 83 degrees and still the bill makes me wince). I do not like, when I go hiking, the vast majority of views are of decomposing granite and little bushes barely clinging to life. The politics of Arizona are sometimes harsh and though they do not affect me over-much, my San Franciscan sensitivities are a bit offended. This city, and this is an opinion shared by many of my friends, should not be so big in a climate so harsh. We go to extraordinary lengths to keep the valley luxurious for...correct me if I'm wrong, 3 million people. And although I've tried and failed to embrace the desert as my home, others have gone to expensive lengths to live in denial of the climate, planting expansive lawns that require 3 inches of water a day just to keep from scorching (the recommended way of setting one's sprinklers is to put an empty tuna fish can on the lawn and run the water until the can is topped off). There are plans to build an indoor snow park - a snow park! on the outskirts of town, complete with ski hill and fake pine trees. Fantasy is excellent and I embrace it whole-heartedly...when I'm in Disneyland. But I don't like the desert and I can't try to turn it into something it's not. I have a bumper sticker on my car that I placed there within six months of moving here, when I decided that living in Phoenix was perhaps not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. It says "LOVE PHOENIX OR LEAVE PHOENIX". Well, I tried loving it, I really have. And now, I should probably leave.

Where do I want to go? Seattle. Seattle is where I want to go, and where I want to settle. Okay, so Seattle isn't the most lovely of cities. The skies rain, or more accurately, spit, for most of the year. It's cold, wet, dreary, depressing, grey, and filled with depressed people running from cups of coffee to bottles of booze. At least, this is what I've been led to believe by well-meaning Phoenicians who see no reason to trade their air conditioning for heaters and dehumidifiers. "Why would you ever want to live in such a cloudy place?" they ask. It's often that then I open the blinds of whatever room we're in, causing everyone to blink and shade their eyes from the blistering summer sun (this technique, of course, works best in June, July, and August). I like rainy weather. There was one winter in Santa Cruz where it rained almost nonstop. And I had an outside job at the time. And I loved it. Great times. I love sitting by the window with a nice cup of tea, watching the rain. I love going for walks and listening to the sound of millions of tiny droplets hit the ground, the plants, the buildings, and muffle everything, slightly. On rainy days, the world is more cozy, more intimate. We are sheltered, under the cloud. There is no guilt about choosing to stay inside and work on writing or art, because it's not a gorgeous day outside, it's not going to waste. Even on triple-digit days out in this desert, I kind of feel guilty when I'm going to enjoy indoor activities, because at least it's sunny out there. I could have gotten up at 6am to go for a walk, when it was still 85 degrees.

I miss the forests. I miss trees blocking my view, I miss their shade and their effects on the ground. On my nature walks out here in Phoenix, the ground is hard and sharp. There are no rounded edges anywhere, and depending on what cactus you plan to hug, you may spend the rest of the afternoon in urgent care getting to know a nurse wielding industrial tweezers. When you go for a walk, there is no shade. There will never be cooler spots on the trail. Flowers, tiny as they probably will be, are to be treasured, to be taken photos of. It is a glorious occasion when you see wildlife. And if you get lost, and many people do especially while looking for the Lost Dutchman's Mine in the craggy Superstition Mountains east of town, the risk of dying of exposure is notable. Now, of course, getting lost in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest would also be a bad idea, but at least one should be able to find water. Many people like this climate, and love the landscapes. Big open sky, dramatic vistas, a sense that nature definitely is the boss, and room to roam. But I've tried it, and I don't like it.

My first visit to Seattle was when I was somewhere in the range of 8 or 9 years old, and I was smitten. True, we happened to be there in a sunny week of August (a bit of a heat wave had hit) and so the city was sparkling, warm, and inviting, but I thought it was a paradise. There was the Pike Place Market to explore, the fantastic mountains with their cloud forests of mossy mystery, glorious green and flowers everywhere I looked. The ever-present snow on Mt Rainier, admired from my great aunt's backyard, would turn pink with the sunset. I was told it was strawberry ice cream. Almost as good as the ice cream were raspberries that my aunt grew, as sweet as candy and impossible to grow in the soil of my childhood home. We went camping, we went to aquariums, we visited the thundering Snoqualmie Falls, we traveled the waters of Puget Sound by ferry. I was hooked.

20 years later, the magic hasn't faded. I've made friends in the Seattle area, and many of my friends from college have moved up north to settle there. Even my friend from Phoenix, who originally encouraged me to move out to the desert and work in her lab, has moved to Seattle. I've visited Washington state almost annually for the past four or five years, and it's still a verdant wonderland full of friends and water and delightful seafood, I might add.

This eventually brings us to how I get out of here and journey up there. I need employment. I could just quit my job and move up there, settling first and hitting the pavement in search of employment next, and perhaps my finances would allow for that, but it's too risky for my tastes. I've had friends out of work for months - years, in some cases, and although they're not in the market for typically stable medical jobs as I am, the job market isn't hot for anybody right now.

And so, I've been applying. And applying and applying and applying. I have to admit that while I desperately want to move, I'm not about to pick a job I think I won't enjoy. I declined to apply for a career caring for and then dissecting laboratory mice, for instance. I have not applied for part time low wage grunt jobs. I'm looking for a career, and I've found a few labs that not only have jobs that I'm qualified to do, but jobs very similar to what I already do. I flood them with resumes and cover letters. I fill out their poorly designed applications and mail them back, with extra stamps just in case the envelope is stuffed all the way into the next weight category. I've got my name in with a staffing agency in Seattle, that might just land me a job, though their listings seem to be currently for either temporary positions or ones that require a PhD. I interview by phone, answering difficult questions and trying not to stutter too much or let them know how nervous I really am. I mention that I can fly up for an in-person interview, no problem, and that I don't need financial assistance for moving. I send them thank you notes after the interview and keep the phone fully charged and by the bed, in case they decide to call at some ungodly hour with more information for me.

And then...and then I pray, my own dance completed. I wish that a little decision that means so little to the employer will be turned in my favor and change my life. I want out of here, but unless I want to risk economic ruin, that possibility is ultimately in someone else's hands.

Okay, a heads-up to the people who come spying my journal from its actual page, rather than accessing it from a friends list feed - yes, things look a bit different. I lost the original "ocean theme" background, and it just didn't display on widescreen monitors. Since I have a widescreen monitor now and need to make sure Everything Looks Pretty On It, I've changed the background to something quite pretty and green. It features trees, because I miss trees.

Real entry coming shortly, in the next couple of days. I'll try to dig up some news about my life, but it's been pretty slow around these parts. Hopefully you'll enjoy the LJ Idol entries, which will cover topics I don't usually write about, or wouldn't think to write about in the first place.

Hello! Time for me to jump start writing in this journal. What will help? LJ Idol! It's a game in which players are given prompts, we write an entry about the prompt trying to be all witty and smart and win votes for our entries. People with the lowest scores get booted. The winner gets to feel good about being a winner!



Hooray! Let's write!

I'm not sure if I've saved money using Groupon or spent money I had no plans to spend by using Groupon. Groupon offers great deals, but like many coupons, one of its aims is to get you to buy something you wouldn't normally buy in hopes that maybe you'll like it and return for more. This is a great service when it comes to restaurants, as I'm often on the hunt for new delicious places to eat, but Groupon also offers lots of recreational experiences, and other things that I wouldn't normally have an interest in unless I had friends visiting and wanted to show them something cool (I'd still like to try out that trampoline gym). I found a 2 for 1 sandwich deal at Quiznos, which was useful since I enjoy Quiznos, and a half off sushi coupon for the Japanese restaurant around the corner from my apartment, but in general, Groupon offers coupons for stuff that I'm not sure I'd really enjoy, so I don't buy them.

But then one day Groupon offered this odd activity for a price so low compared to the normal price that I figured it wasn't a terrible loss if I hated it. What the activity is, billed as a spa-type experience, is one hour of floating in a tub of very very salty water. Yeah, that's basically it. The water is so full of salt that one doesn't have to work at all to float, so the body can completely relax and enjoy all the benefits of floating about in space without the whole no air thing. They call it floatation therapy, REST, or simply Float, and I called it something that I should probably try at least once, just to say that I did. And as I mentioned, it was a good deal.

Of course, this place is in Scottsdale which is known for being ritzy, rich, and offering lots of silly things to spend money on. The Float Spa was located in a strip mall, just like everything else in this valley is, and next to a gourmet grocery store. I was met by a guy that reminded me of those smooth motivational speakers that tell everyone to close their eyes and envision their power animal (mine's a red panda, by the way). He was so blissed out and and full of sighs that I found him a bit annoying. Fortunately, he soon went away. I watched a little introductory video about the floating thing and what I should expect: "If you get bored, try viewing your float as a test of endurance". Ah and also, I should not do my business in the float water. No problem, video. I signed a release saying I wouldn't sue if I drowned, and went into my little float quarters to do my float thing.

It's really basic, no frills, and rather sci-fi. The rooms are simple concrete-floored rooms with a shower and eerie blue lighting. The only thing in the room besides the shower is a big white egg shaped "pod" with a door like a hatchback of a car. The pod is...well, it looks like Eve the robot before she sprouted cute flipper hands and her head levitated off her ovoid body. The pod is filled with extremely salty water, about 10 inches deep and with the consistency of jell-o before you put it in the fridge to harden up. It's not as runny as water, but it's not semi-solid, either. Still very liquid. So I had my shower and got in, closed the lid, and waited for the non-structured Native American flute music to fade to silence. Very silent silence, as I was wearing swimming earplugs.

It's dark, it's warm, it's floating, it's quiet. And...that's nice, I suppose. People who are claustrophobic probably wouldn't like the pod, but since I don't seem to mind such things, I found it cozy. I found the most comfortable position to be in was with my arms floating above my head like I was about to do a pull-up. Once my neck finally realized it didn't have to hold my head above water, it was very nice to relax all those muscles that are usually so tight. When I got bored with darkness, I turned on the LED effects and watched the bright lights slide smoothly from one color to the next - the lights are underwater and the inside of the pod is white, so the lighting effects are very intense. I found the red and the blue to be so bright, they would make my eyes un-focus. I suppose this is neat, but I didn't get anything spiritual out of it.

In fact, the video and the full-of-sighs front desk fellow touted great spiritual benefits from floating around. This isn't too surprising as the system was invented by a John C. Lilly, who tripped acid, floated about, and called it science. I admit it was very relaxing, until I bumped into a wall or got the salty water in my eyes, which is horrifically painful and pretty much ruins any meditation (fortunately, there is a squirt bottle in the pod for cleaning one's eyes and face). But spiritually fulfilling? Not really. I got bored, but didn't dream or come to any fantastic conclusions about life or God or cake. I counted breaths. I watched the colors. And I stretched.

The Float Spa was pretty big on floating being used as therapy for injuries or general aches and pains, and I have to admit it was excellent for that. With no weight on any of my bones or muscles, and with warm water and air (warmed to skin temperature, I was told), I was able to stretch out my back, neck, and limbs like never before, because it took no muscle tension to hold me above water. When my hour was up and the flute music began again, followed quickly by the jet-engine roar of the pod's filtration system, I was happy to get out because lying in the dark for an hour got me quite bored. But I have to say, I was very relaxed. My back felt wonderful, I couldn't find a place on me that hurt, besides my eyes when they got salt in them. I took another shower (not enough, there were salt crystals behind my ears when I got home), hung out for a bit in the "recovery room" at the front desk's insistence (it has fish and an oxygen bar machine, should I wish to get more high), and went home feeling nice and groovy, with some fancy sodas from the gourmet grocery store.

So...would I do it again? Maybe, if there's another Groupon. The typical going price for the Float spa is $80 an hour, which I consider far too steep, no matter what the cost is for maintaining the float pods and putting those salt rock lamps everywhere. When comparing prices, I compare things to Disneyland tickets (and still use the scale despite my sister being a cast member and letting me in if I say please). A day at Disneyland, if not bought as part of a season pass or a multi-day ticket, runs about $85. In the summertime, If I stayed in the park from opening to closing, is 17 hours of sensory entertainment. Was this hour as good as a day in Disneyland? Well, no. Not even close. I do think of it though, when my back hurts or my shoulders are tight or I can't fall asleep due to various aches of everyday life - just an hour of floating about in a salty puddle could fix all this...for a little while.

Last week, college roomies Laura, Lisa, and I met up in Arizona. They had wanted to drive over and visit and wondered what we could do on this trip that we had not done last time they visited me in Phoenix. Though I didn't remember and had to be reminded of it, I suggested that we go to the Grand Canyon, as I'd been there once before, but I was young and it was snowing. I figured I should see it during the friendly summer, and during the time I actually live in Arizona.

Feels wrong to call the entirety of the canyon "It". The Grand Canyon is large in, yes, the way you think of God as big. And the Grand Canyon is more than just one canyon, but side canyons built on side canyons. Sorry, Earth. Water really beat you in this battle. I don't know what route my family took when we road-tripped over to the Grand Canyon back when I was a young teenager, but from Phoenix, it's a pretty straightforward drive of about 4 hours, no curvy roads to navigate. One goes through Flagstaff, takes the highway around the side of the San Francisco Peaks, and makes a straight shot across the planes and into Grand Canyon National Park.

After some discussion, we decided to camp on the rim of the Canyon, in the National Park. Laura had been there a couple months ago with her boyfriend and recommended it, so we met up there. It's been a couple years since I've been camping. I have a sleeping bag and a big blow up mattress (two, in fact) but that's about the extent of it. Laura had a tent but not a very big one to fit both them and me on my Princess Bed, so I went and purchased a cheap tent for myself (I was going to sleep under the stars, but rain was in the forecast). I love my little tent! Easy to set up and take down, stays dry in the rain, and is even orange yet doesn't smell like cheese! I feel inspired to get some more camping gear together so I can enjoy the outdoors more often (meaning: camp stove, dishes, pot, pan, camp chair). About half of the other campers in our loop of the campground (it's a sprawling campground with many loops) were in RVs, but thankfully we were in the non-generator section, so everything remained quiet.

Once we got the tent set up, we hopped on the shuttle bus to take us to the rim of the canyon so we could peek in. The shuttle busses are great and keep the roads in the park pretty much free of traffic. You can park at the campground or in some large parking lots and take the shuttle everywhere in the village that you want to go, and to many of the popular trail heads. There were lots of people out on the rim, but there was a good reason - it was NICE. The evening was clear, the colors were brilliant, and the atmosphere was almost festive. There was also a kaleidoscope of languages being spoken - more than I hear at Disneyland. The Grand Canyon really is an international destination, and for a good reason. It's spectacular. If you're going to do an American tour, especially a coast-to-coast one, you have to stop at Grand Canyon, at least for a couple hours! We spent some nice quality time taking pictures and taking pictures for other people and having them take pictures of us. "Will you please take my photo?" is pretty much the same gesture in any culture. I'm very glad that "OK" is a multi-language word. Everyone knows what that means, in question and in affirmative tones.



We then made spaghetti in the dark, easily accomplished, and went to bed. I slept so well in my little tent. The Princess air mattress made all the difference.

On Wednesday we got up nice and early to get to the rim, while not exactly at sunrise, early enough to take decent photographs. It was much less crowded at this earlier time and we had a great time walking along the rim trail with often no other people in sight.


(Laura, sitting quite close to the edge at our snack lookout point, taking photos).

After a wander along the rim trail and a shuttle ride back to the main visitor center, we stopped in to watch a movie about the Grand Canyon which, while lovely, was an odd experience when the canyon was right there outside the doors. However, it must be useful when the weather is bad...the visitor center doesn't have much in it (a couple models, a boat used to raft the canyon before inflatable boats became routine - this one was made of wood if you can imagine) so we headed over to the Geology Museum. This historical building right on the edge of the cliff had amazing panoramic windows, offering views of the canyon from several angles and binoculars for looking at features up close. From that vantage point, we could see Phantom Ranch on the narrow floor of the canyon where rim-to-rim hikers can spend the night. There's also a large bridge down there, which looks like a splinter from way up at the rim. Actually being able to see objects in the canyon gave a much grander scale to things.

We napped in the afternoon. I picked up an awesome book about hunting for water in the desert and the creatures that have developed amazing tactics for living in areas where water is scarce, and happily read for hours. That evening, we decided to watch the sunset at a hike-to-it viewing point that the ranger in the visitor center suggested as being uncrowded. He said it was a half-mile from parking lot to cliff. It was actually more like a mile, but didn't bother us as it was through quiet shady forest. We reached the edge and, although there were a few other people there, it was dead silent. I don't often get to be in places where everything is so quiet that I can hear an odd tone in my ears (probably my brain trying to fill the empty space with something), but the edge of the canyon was one of them. No voices, no movement, no wind, no birdsong. Just stillness.

And a spectacular sunset, followed by a rain storm which included lightning, so we beat a hasty retreat back to the car. The exposed rock was way too unsheltered for comfort.


(sunset, with red rain)

It rained and thundered a bit that night, but not enough to send us scurrying for the car. By morning, everything was crisp and clear and we were ready for a hike. We packed up some snacks and were on the trail close to sunrise. Here was our trail:



Lots and lots of down, followed by lots and lots of up! The weather, while cool in the morning, heated quickly so we didn't go as far down into the canyon as we probably could have. I found that if I walked slowly, much slower than I'd be usually comfortable going, I wouldn't have to stop to catch my breath while walking back up the switchbacks. We went down to "Ooh Aah Point" or "Oh My God Point" or "Holy Crap Point", take your pick. We sure did. Though the view was spectacular, looking down made me scared of heights, so I mostly took photos of picturesque dead trees.

When we were done climbing down and then back up again, we decided it was time for a drive. We headed East along the main road of the park and out to some visitor centers at the East end. We figured there wouldn't be too many people down there, but we were quite wrong - lots and lots of people were checking out the Watchtower. Fortunately, the area is big enough for everyone and we very much enjoyed the tower, the little visitor center (with photographs and that was about it), and a gift shop/cafe where I had probably the best veggie burger I've ever had...I'm pretty sure the surroundings had something to do with that.



Though we couldn't go to the very top of this tower, we could walk up the narrow curving staircases to the highest story and peek through the useful little windows along the way, which framed specific features of the canyon. Looking at everything all at once is a bit overwhelming, so it's nice to have little bite-sized views from time to time. The inside of the tower is painted very nicely with Native American motifs. I've been here once before, when my family did a Southwest road trip, but it was snowing and we were unprepared for it in our light sweatshirts. It was April and had been swimming weather down in Phoenix. We had sheltered a bit in this tower, though it was unheated. On this visit, the weather was in the 80s, so the atmosphere in the tower was much more comfortable. The tower, if I'm not mistaken, was built in the 1930s as part of a scenic overlook and rest stop, and built in somewhat the same style as Native Americans built their watchtowers in the area, or as close as anyone can guess.

For some real Native American structures, we headed back East to the Tuscayan pueblo (I probably have spelled that wrong, but at least I know it's not Tuscon). Here, there are some low walls and a nice circle that used to be a kiva, along with a tiny visitor center and a ranger who gave us a nice tour and talk about the Ancestral Puebloans who lived at the canyon rim thousands of years ago. In fact, it looks like people settled here just as soon as they got over the land bridge from Asia, as far as anyone can tell. While we waited for the tour (we were a half hour or so early), the ranger showed us some "split stick" figures - animal figurines made by splitting a willow twig and wrapping it around in a pleasing configuration to make a little sheep, or perhaps (but probably not) a llama. The ones found were thousands of years old and had been placed in caves which were pretty hard to get to, so it was unlikely people lived in them. What were they for? Were they good luck charms for a hunt? Did someone just get bored while taking shelter in a cave from a thunderstorm? Unlikely, as archaeologists have found thousands of them, from all different ages. The ranger gave us extra long twist ties and instructions for how to make our own, which kept us busy until tour time.

The tour is what you'd expect, with lots of background about the people of the area, the fact that we aren't really sure but can make pretty good guesses about what people's lives were like here, and that the Katsina spirits live in the San Francisco Peaks during the winter time, and the pueblo building was built in such a way that the main courtyard directly faced the mountains so everyone could have a nice view pretty much all the time they weren't inside. They used to farm beans, corn, and squash all growing among each other, which works very well and is something I'd like to try someday (though not in this apartment as I lack a key ingredient - full sun). The corn provides a trellis for the beans to climb, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the large squash leaves protect the young plants and cool the roots in the soil. And all can be stored for the winter - Ranger said it got to 20 degrees below zero last January. Brr! One thing I forgot to ask is what the archaeologists figure the community structure at the pueblo was like. It's estimated that about 10-15 people lived at this site, so was that one family, or more than that? Was the pueblo a meeting place for several families to come to, like a town hall, and we just haven't found evidence of their individual dwellings farther afield? If it was a family homestead, where did they go to meet with people who weren't relations? So many questions that the low stone walls, one burned-down kiva, and one replacement kiva can't quite answer.

And then it was back to the campsite for naps, food, and visiting some of our favorite sites again (the geology museum and the bookstore for postcards and this stuffed mountain lion I'd admired). We had a nice campfire that night and roasted marshmallows while lightning flashed in the distance - lovely!

The next day...well, we packed up and went home! We stopped by at Shrine of Ages as I heard there was a pioneer cemetery, which turned out to be a decidedly modern cemetery, and no indication of how you get to be buried inside the national park. Ancestral plots, perhaps? Still, kind of fun to go around and read the gravestones. We parted ways then, as Lisa and Laura headed back to LA and I descended to Phoenix, with one last look at the Grand Canyon, of course!

8 days later, I get around to writing about it. Well, 29! What would be a nice, easy, and fun way to celebrate such a nothing-number birthday? ...How about Disneyland?

I'm still a spoiled-rotten brat: my sister still works at Disneyland, so we partied all day on Disney's dime, though we bought food so they managed to make a profit off of us in the end. It was really GOOD food - more on that later.

Mom and Shawna gave me my wonderful birthday present of a Disneyland tour. There are a few guided tours of Disneyland that guests can buy a spot on, including Welcome to Disneyland, and one that's more like a scavenger hunt. The third, which my sister picked out, is A Walk in Walt's Footsteps, which seemed the best choice since our goal wasn't really to go on as many rides as we could or play scavenger hunt games - we've done both many times before (Disneyland Bingo, anyone?). Our tour focused on the history of Disneyland and the attractions that Disney himself worked on. Our guide was a perky young lady with a plaid skirt, a jockey helmet, and a riding crop...odd costume, but unique. No one save the "plaids" as Shawna calls them is going to dress like that. So, we spent the morning following around a young woman with a riding crop and doing everything she told us to do. And we enjoyed it.

It was very awesome. We all wore headsets so we could actually hear what our tour guide was saying to us, and also so we could listen to music, sound bytes, and bits of interviews with Walt Disney. It was perfectly presented but then, it's Disneyland. Everything is well presented. The emphasis wasn't on rides but on the atmosphere of the park and what Disney was hoping to accomplish (and in many ways, did). We didn't need to jump to the front of the line on rides as the other tours do - it was pretty obvious that everyone on the tour was not a first-time visitor. We did, however, get to go in Club 33. Okay, it was just the small downstairs lobby, but it was fun to check it out. For those not in the know, Club 33 is a country club set up by Walt to appeal to his investors and get some more money. It's fancy, very fancy, and fairly exclusive though the tour guide said they don't release how many members they have, or how much it costs to join. She did say, though, that the waiting list is currently so long that it's closed. More than 10 years, in any case. We visited the Tiki Room and got to see one of the animatronic flowers up close. It has all the original paint and mechanics, and still works perfectly if hooked up to the stalk with all the wiring in it. And after our tour, we were served lunch! Any tour is better when refreshments are served.

When we were done with chow, it was time for an E-ticket ride. We'd gotten to the park when it opened (8:00) and the park was so busy, we filled the hour and a half before our tour riding the often-avoided-in-the-morning Splash Mountain and getting Fast Pass tickets for Star Tours. After a lengthy refurbishment and retooling, this Star Wars spectacular is back and better than ever. It also has a line that's longer than ever, especially considering that before the refurb, you could often walk right up and into the spacecraft without stopping (unless you wanted to watch the pre-show elements in the queue). The wait for the Fast Pass ticket (get an assigned time, come back later) was long, but the standby line was much longer, so we wound around and around for a little slip of paper which cut down the actual wait in the Star Tours building to about 15 minutes.

And this ride is awesome. Yeah, it's in 3-D, and usually it doesn't give very good results as I have to layer my seeing-glasses under the 3-D glasses. The format for this video was different and the glasses were also engineered to have lots of space for guest glasses, so the effects were marvelous. I don't think the inside of the "Starspeeder 3000" has changed, but now C3P0 is driving this crazy plane, and there are randomly selected planets to visit. How many, I don't know. I'm guessing about 15, and I'm also guessing that you get to visit two planets each trip, plus maybe a space battle or two. The movement of the simulator has always been pretty good. Now, it's better. Smooth, matches the video, and seems to have more movement capabilities than the original in terms of side-to-side, etc. The video itself is lovely, too. While the old Star Tours was kind of fun in that it used models for all the effects (and therefore really felt old-school Star Wars), the new video is digital. Most if not all of the visuals are computer generated, but not that you'd really notice, besides the occasional "I don't know where they could have filmed that." Years ago, I had gone on a dinosaur-themed motion simulator ride at another park. Its video was all computer-generated, but was such poor quality that when the ride went from "underwater" to "above water" in the story, it took me a few seconds to realize that we were on land, now. Not so with Star Tours. The ship went underwater. The ship shot out of the water. The ship skipped along the surface of the water like a stone. All at very high speeds, and it was still very obvious what was taking place. If you think about animating something like that, from a first-person perspective, it must be very difficult. We only had the chance to ride the attraction once, due to the popularity, so only got to go to two planets - Kashyyyk and Naboo. Perhaps next time I'll get to go to Alderaan, which is advertised by Star Tours as being "the safest planet in the galaxy". Yeah, well, it was.

On the California Adventure side of things, many parts of the park are still under construction or re-construction. The new turnstiles are up, the old CALIFORNIA giant letters are down (awww) and inconvenient though fairly attractive construction fences were everywhere. We didn't care, we just wanted to see the Little Mermaid ride, and maybe have a beer. The Little Mermaid ride is new, and very cute. It's a dark ride with shells to ride in, based on the same ride system as Haunted Mansion. High capacity, loads quickly so long as no one falls down while trying to get in and out of the things. It's a cute ride and the animatronics are pretty amazing. The effects and lighting were well done, too. There were a couple serious gaps, though - The main show room features the "Under the Sea" song, as it should, but there are precious few fishies swimming through the "water", as it were. Meaning, swimming through the air. There were a couple mobiles of fish, but most everything was stuck onto the rocks on floor level. Some projections would have been great. Also, no big battle with Ursula. No Ariel turning back into a mermaid and Eric saving the day...just a giant Ursula smoking and dying in the background as Ariel and Eric get married. Yeah, I see it would be hard to animate a continuous battle with a definite ending while the guests are constantly streaming past (not arriving in a vehicle and rolling off), but if anyone could pull it off, it would be Disney. However, I don't think anyone who chooses to go on that ride would be unfamiliar with the movie, so it's cute and worth a look, if the line isn't too long.

So then we got beers, rode the roller coaster, did a little shopping, found it to be a very hot day so hung out at the waterfall portion of the rafting ride so we could get drenched by the incoming rafts, and headed back to Magic Kingdom side of things so we could watch the parade. The new parade is cute, and features marching drums (in true parade fashion) and Talking Mickey playing the drums. Okay, his audio was pre-recorded as part of the soundtrack, but this costume is amazing. He blinks. His mouth moves. The effect is startlingly realistic and somehow not creepy like many talking and blinking puppets are.

I said I'd get to the food part. Well, Shawna found out that there's a new dessert at the Carnation Cafe called the Matterhorn Sundae. It's four scoops of ice cream, three different sauces, whipped cream, and a cherry. If you can down the whole thing, you get a button that says you're fat celebrates your achievement. Oh, you bet we were all over this thing! We'd already eaten pot pies for dinner (they're delicious) and were about to maybe not order the thing, but our waitress was pretty insistent that we do. So we did. And we ate. And we finished! Yay! It was pretty delicious and thankfully I had a couple Lactaids in my bag. Ice cream - yikes.

And then...Fantasmic! Shawna has a Secret Standing Place which is an odd little cul-de-sac in the fencing around the Rivers of America. It's on a little tier by itself and offers a great view. Not a perfect place for taking pictures of the show, but we have ceased to care about that (we let Visions Fantastic film things). Great show, except that something very fast ran across our feet. Bug? Mouse? Mickey Mouse? It was way too dark to see, but made me wish I hadn't worn sandals! Oh well. The show was great. Still going strong.

It was a great birthday! I love my birthday button that Shawna got for me and put rhinestones all over, I love my Birthday Wand that she made me (matches the button!) and I love the fact that I have such a creative and caring sister who humors me and agrees to spend my birthday with me at her work. I'm not sure I'd do the same, but then...who wants to hang out all day at the lab?