Something is Still in There

Alzheimer’s = A progressive, degenerative disease of the brain that leads to dementia.

Dementia = Deterioration of intellectual faculties, such as memory, concentration, and judgment, resulting from a disease or a disorder of the brain, and often accompanied by emotional disturbance and personality changes.

To me, no matter how medical journals or doctors may define these terms, I define them more like fear, change, loss of who you are…… Until my grandmother was diagnosed several years ago I didn’t know much about this disease and I’m still continuing to learn as I go. From step one it has been something I would rather avoid than deal with but then again, who would.

In our case, my grandmother began hallucinating people and situations but yet she was still very much aware of reality and the sad reality of the situation. It wasn’t until she grabbed her keys and took off in her car (which she hadn’t driven in quite a long time) that I realized the severity of the situation. After we thankfully found her on one of the most terrifying nights of my life, she told my uncle that she had the kids in the car and she was taking them somewhere. Well, of course there was no one in the car.

Inevitably she was placed in an Assisted Living facility and then on to a Nursing Home in the Alzheimer’s wing which is anyone’s worst nightmare when getting old. At first, going to visit was an absolute terror for me. You have a bunch of old people, and in some cases not so old people, walking around or wheeling themselves around that are afraid, babbling incoherently, staring off in to space, the list goes on and on. I had no idea how to deal with the situation but I knew with time I would adjust as best one can.

So now it’s several years later and I HAVE learned to adjust and adapt. I go to visit my grandmother every Sunday morning so it’s become a routine. I’ve come to the point where I realize that you just have to accept the situation and use humor to deal with it. There is nothing you can do to make these people better or to stop their behavior which at some points is clearly uncomfortable so all you can do is have a good laugh about it and move on.

Case in point, there was this very chatty lady that used to live where my Grandmother is. She was very mobile so she would inevitably wander to where you were and talk to no one in particular, just talk, talk, talk. We really hadn’t had too much direct contact with her until she came over and started chatting about her pussy cat. My pussy cat this, my pussy cat that…. Then she asked if I wanted to see her pussy cat. I didn’t even have time to think up an answer before I realized that it wasn’t so much a pussy cat as….well….you can fill in the blank. Thankfully we were on our way out so I just ran down the stairs and out the door! You just have to laugh at something like that.

My grandmother is in some sort of babbling phase where she just says the same things over and over and over BUT, there are some instances where I know, or at least I like to believe that she know me and realizes that I am family and that I love her. There have been several instances when I was leaving or even just chatting with her, where she would just look at me and tell me she was proud of me. Maybe I am just believing what I want to believe, but I truly think there is some part of her still in there…..somewhere. It melts my heart when she says. “I love you” which thankfully she says to us quite often. Those three words mean the world to me. It’s all I have left.

Last night, and again, you have to laugh about it because everyone is COMPLETELY FINE, another patient pulled my grandmother out of bed because she thought it was her room and her bed. So we headed down to the hospital to make sure she really was ok and to keep her company. As we were waiting in the hallway and I was standing next to her bed having a “conversation”, she said she was glad that we were chatting and then followed that with, “I’m so very proud of you.” Well, I almost starting to cry right there in the hall. Again, only a few words that make sense out of hours of gibberish but I truly believe at that moment she knew who I was and why I was there.

Several months ago in the nursing home there was a new nurse that we had not seen before. She stopped my family on the way out and asked us if we were Edie’s relatives. We explained who we were and she was asking us question about Mimi back in the day. She basically nailed spot on the kind of person that she was. It was amazing. Some how out of all that haze, she still somehow remains who she was, and this nurse was able to see it.

After I got home last night from the hospital, I pulled out the letters that my grandmother had written to me while I was away at school. I had kept several of them safely tucked away but had never really looked at them since the day I had put them in the drawer. Since she has been ill for so long now, I feel like I had forgotten who she used to be until I re-read those letters. She was an amazing, smart, caring, witty, beautiful woman who thankfully also happened to be my grandmother. It brought tears to my eyes reading those letters and they are a piece of her that I will keep with me forever.

Sunday I will head back to the nursing home for our weekly visit where inevitably my grandmother will babble on incoherently for hours. I’ll do what I always do which is to try to have some what of a conversation with her. That basically consists of me making up things to say or answers to questions you have no idea what they are. I will wave to my “friend” that I see every week sitting at the same table, hide Mimi’s food and my purse from Alfreda who likes to eat everything in sight, smile at the poor woman who repeats over and over, “God help us” and just wait for those three words to make everything ok. “I love you.”

I am Soooo Ready for Unemployment

As my current job comes to a close, I wanted to take some time to pay tribute to the cast of characters that have been a part of my every day life for the past 4 months. Some are old friends, many are new, but they all have played a major role in this chapter of my life. And for that, I give you this blog entry.

Before I get to the supporting characters, I would like to quickly talk about one of the main characters of this story – New York City. I have worked in NY for the past 5 years or so and never had much to complain about. From Times Square to Lincoln Center it was always a joy to commute in to work. Then came this job. I have aptly named my foot commute from Port Authority to my building in Chelsea, the trek through Sketchytown NYC. Just to give an example of the joy I experience on any given day, today I was smooched at by a passing truck driver, my nostrils were punished by having to endure the smell of rotting fish while waiting to RUN across the street to get away, I was elbowed and rammed in the back while waiting for the elevator and was sprayed with a healthy amount of concrete. Thanks for kicking my ass today NYC. I can’t wait for the weekend.

Talking about the other main character, that being my current job, would be a waste of time and effort so on to the supporting roles. I’d like to begin with those kind people I share my 45 minute bus ride with every morning. Some are familiar faces and there are a healthy crop of newbies as well. Starting with an oldie but goodie, you have Eyelash lady. Eyelash lady is a middle-aged woman who likes to put her mascara on while the bus is in motion. She seems to have the time to put all the other makeup on in the morning but never that eye makeup. Maybe she loves the thrill of putting that mascara brush right next to her eyeball in a moving rickety bus. Ok, I’ve seen it done before. The kicker with Eyelash lady is what she does AFTER the 20 minute application of the makeup. Wait for it….. And remember she is on a very bumpy moving vehicle going 60 MPH. She whips out a sewing Needle and painstakingly separates EVERY lash. Stay tuned for the inevitable day she stabs herself in the eye. You know I’d have to blog about that bloody tale.

There are quite a lot of celebrities that ride the bus with me as well. Most notably are Paris Hilton, Paige Davis, and the guy who looks like he came out of a GQ ad. Oh wait, I mean the guy who thinks he looks like he came out of a GQ ad. Then there’s probably my favorite bus buddy, another oldie but goodie, Dr. Kovac from ER. A brooding handsome European, this guy is slightly older than the real Dr. Kovac but no less charming. I was melting in the back when he kindly offered assistance to a crazy woman who needed change to get on the bus. Oh, slightly older yet still charming Dr. Kovac look-a-like. How I adore you!

Let us now move on to the characters in the building where I work. I will kindly stay away from anyone I work directly with as you never know when you will meet again. Although for all of them, let’s hope not any time soon. There are quite a few celebrities in my building as well, most notably Betty Boop! Who would have thunk it! Alive and in person with a slightly smaller head. Transporting in our time machine a little further toward present day, we also have one of the members of the B-52s. Who said the Bee-hive hairdo was dead? Skipping ahead to present time, Dr. Lisa Cuddy is one of the newest characters to grace the halls of the office building. Say hello to Dr. House for me!

The most annoying characters at this particular setting in the story are the models. I mean come on ladies! Is there a better way to feel like a fat ugly slob than to be in a small elevator with 15 models whose legs are as tall as you are???? I think not! Every other day there is some kind of casting call across the hall. (Excuse the annoying rhyme.) I vote that the next commercial or ad they cast for, is an ad for incontinence. That sure would make me feel better.

Last but not least, we can’t forget about the charming people I get to see on a regular basis on my stroll through Sketchytown. Protecting and serving you have the always sweaty Dudley Do Right. We pass each other by the rail yards and every day I look in amazement at the fact that this lovely little man is a cop. I try to look more closely at his uniform to see if perhaps somewhere it says the word Library above the word Cop. Cause truthfully, that I would buy. Further down the route, you have The Professor. An oddly dressed scholarly looking fellow that looks strongly like Kevin Kline in the film In & Out but with more Gray hair and shorter pants. Generally, the last character I encounter on my way To work, is a lovely man named Buddha Belly. Buddha Belly was so named because one morning he was standing on the corner in front of the deli as he does every day, but he had his shirt rolled up and was rubbing his belly like you would rub the Buddha for good luck. He was hence forth called Buddha Belly. Buddha Belly hangs on the corner and babbles to himself and to passersby every morning. This is why I walk an extra block or two out of the way. I don’t have time to be roped in to a riveting intellectual conversation that early in the morning. And by early I mean 9:30.

I would like to conclude this entry with the final and most controversial character of the story. Of course I am talking about Mr. Shovel. If you are an avid follower of this blog, and who isn’t, you know all about Mr. Shovel. Thankfully, I think my one encounter with this kind gentleman is all I’m gonna get. I wonder whatever happened to him? I think of him every time I enter shovel territory.

Needless the say, I truly will miss journeying through Sketchytown NYC and my celebrity friends on the bus. With my luck however, I will be back there in no time. Um….help! Let’s hope for a less painful, less smelly, concrete free day tomorrow. I live for Fridays!!!!

Good Night and Happy Commuting.

Jill E.

And You Wonder Why I’m Single.

This blog is not to bash men in anyway so please don’t take offense if you happen to be of the male persuasion. I know there are some amazing men out there but this is not about them. And I know what I am about to complain about can also apply to some women but today it’s all about the guys. Now that I’ve covered my ass we can begin.

I need to let off some steam about those guys that think it’s ok to be a disgusting touchy feely perv even though they are in the presence of their wife (and similar guys). I mean let’s have a collective “Ew”. Especially when said guy is like 30 years older than you.

First off, I love hugging. I’m a hugger by nature but that’s really where I draw the line. I really don’t like people invading my personal space. Perhaps I should walk around with a sign that says, “Stay out of my circle of personal space or be kicked.” Or I could always walk around with a hula-hoop to keep unwanted people away. Although that might make getting around rather tricky. Generally I’ve learned that other countries aren’t as concerned about their own personal space and hence don’t care if they invade yours but, that’s their culture and I’m not here to judge them.

Anyway, a hug or a handshake or a hello from across the room will suffice when greeting someone that you aren’t really close to. I really don’t even like speaking to people I don’t really know. I barely speak at family functions where there are too many strangers around or even if it’s just the family. And that’s saying a lot about my comfort level since normally you can’t shut me up. There is no need, I repeat no need and no circumstance where a kiss on the lips is appropriate for a non-boyfriend/non-friend/non-close family member. Eww, eew, eew. Did I mention ew? Not cool.

Also, when did it become ok for someone to just touch you??? Even if it’s my hands that you are touching, that’s a no no. It’s not ok. Don’t touch me. And please feel free to tell me it’s just me but I don’t think it’s really appropriate to constantly look at one’s cleavage and follow that up with another Unwanted hug, then tell you in front of their wife that, Ooo you have soft skin. Bleh!

Listen, I’ve dealt with some creeps in my day, most of which are much older than me, but I really hate putting up with this kind of behavior. If you go to a club or a bar it’s expected that drunk guys will feel you up. I don’t like it but I get it. Plus they are your age so it’s not creepy, just annoying. But in a non-alcohol family setting, what the hell? Sometimes I wish I would grow a set of Cajones so I could just tell these people what I really think. But for now writing this little blog will have to do.

Protect Your Bubble of Personal Space.

Jill E.

I Think It’s Time To Get Outta Dodge…..But I Won’t

The frequency of the blogs has significantly died down due to utter exhaustion for no reason. I actually had inspiration and things to write about recently and would have fought through the non-existent mono but all I had to write about were horribly depressing topics and I was trying to lighten the mood after the last entry. I still have nothing jolly to write about but I think this babbling will be more ridiculous than sad.

Recently I have been pondering how disgusting and angry the city can be which I believe has filtered out to the Garden State as well. I think it first started after I returned from good ‘ole AC. I was walking down the broken glass filled, poop covered sidewalk to work, along the absolutely disgusting Hudson River, all the while imaging how less than 24 hours prior I was walking down the boardwalk at the beach. Hmmm, Atlantic Ocean – Hudson River – you pick.

Soon after, walking to work again through what I have termed Sketchytown, I see police tape in front of Chelsea Park. Thinking perhaps it had something to do with the Ugly Betty taping a few nights before I thought nothing of it until I got to work to find out an off duty cop was stabbed after leaving a club in the early morning. Ok, well we know how those clubs can be. Understandable circumstance. Well not really but not surprising either. Later that day as I am walking home past a children’s playground I see more police tape and a shit load of detectives and beat cops talking about witnesses blah blah blah. My investigative mind figured that the assailant from the cop stabbing had dropped a piece of evidence while escaping through the park and that’s what all the hullabaloo was about. It wasn’t until weeks later when I was given a flyer from a cop that I realized there was a shooting/robbery in the children’s playground that same day at 6:15pm! Lovely isn’t it. Perfect place for a shooting. Now I’m really thinking Atlanta looks appealing.

Shoot to today. And what a day it was. It was a rather nice walk to work. Only one crazy tried to talk to me but as usual I smiled and kept walking. With storms looming I was glad to be inside. Darkness was moving over the city but my computer was frozen so I was pre-occupied with that until I heard, “Oh my God”. Something I have heard WAY too often at this damn job. (see previous entries) I look to the right and everyone is looking out the windows. I see nothing so I shift my focus back to my computer which is just getting worse and worse. Still trying to get my computer to work I am distracted by a voice again saying, “Oh my God”. Followed by another saying, “It looked like it hit that building.” Well we all know what was going through my insane brain. Turns out lighting had apparently struck one of the construction cranes but all seemed ok. Within a few minutes the city became enveloped by a thick fog that caused a complete white out or gray out in this case. We couldn’t see ANYTHING out the windows.

The rest of the day cleared up and went smoothly until I started my trek home. I made it safely through Sketchytown and was blocks away from the PA when I apparently failed at being a caring and concerned human being. Remember what happened in the last episode of Seinfeld??? Maybe that will give you a clue. Walking down the sidewalk, again weaving through the crazies, I had my headphones on and was singing along in my head when I saw a man with intent in his eyes lift an aluminum shovel above his head. I saw this happening and said nothing. Mind you I don’t even like to yell B-I-N-G-O when I’ve won (Donna can confirm this to be true) so I wasn’t about to yell “GET DOWN”. Within a few seconds which seemed like 10 minutes, the man swung the shovel whacking this other guy in the head. It was like in slow motion and I fully expected to see this guy out of the ground with a massive head wound but by some miracle he was fine just really pissed and who could blame him. I was actually surprised that this guy and his group of friends didn’t kill this, I guess homeless man. They just started cursing at him and trying to get the shovel. I have to say if someone hit me with a shovel I don’t think I would be so nice. That is, if I could even get myself up to be angry. As I walked in to the street to get away and to hurry to make my bus, I noticed all the on-lookers just watching this happen. Could I have been the only one that saw this happen? Someone else could have yelled BINGO, I mean Get Down. I left there pissed at myself for not stepping in. It didn’t really even seem that strange to me. I get more upset when people are yelling and cursing at each other than I get when witnessing someone get whacked with a shovel. Go figure.

I think you become immune to some of the violence and somewhat angry and violent yourself. It’s contagious. I am the kind of person that feels bad when I kill a bug but sometimes I would like to hit someone with a shovel myself. Just the other day I was wishing I had a shovel at Kohl’s. Two adult women pissed me off big time and I thought how great it would be if I could just punch them in the face. Then they wouldn’t do that anymore. I would never actually do that but I was thinking about it! This place is crazy and I think I need to move to a farm. Anyone wanna come?

Well, tomorrow is another day. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get rainbows. Well maybe smoke and pollution forming what looks like a rainbow.

Beware of shovels!

Jill E.

Fear

“to be afraid or feel anxious or apprehensive about a possible or probable situation or event”


I have no idea what makes some people more afraid than others but everyone suffers from a fear or fears of something. For me, fear has always been at the forefront of my life though I try my best to hide it from everyone around me. I had plenty of crazy fears as a child and one could only hope they would disappear or lessen in intensity with age but that does not seem to be the case with me.

Just recently some of these fears have intensified and as irrational as I know I am being I can’t seem to kick them and they have seeped into my dreams as well. It’s bad enough to live with fear during the day but when it interrupts your sleep it becomes all consuming and really quite annoying. It’s especially bothersome when you have a nightmare where Robin Williams is sticking his face in your chest insisting that you give him your phone number. It may not sound so scary but trust me when I say you don’t wanna have that dream tonight.

Death has always been probably my number one fear and it seems to get worse with age. I guess that makes sense as every day I am one day closer to my inevitable demise. My imagination does not help the situation as I create vivid realistic scenarios in my head when faced with situations that make me uncomfortable. It would take a whole blog series in itself to explain the various scenarios I have created and for what situations but I will just touch briefly on my most recent nightmares and heart racing situations.

Terrorism. Seven years later I seem to have brought all the thoughts and feelings and fears of that time back. Perhaps it’s because one of the TV shows I have been watching revolves around the Oklahoma City bombing. Maybe it’s because of the fire alarm that went off at work followed by Miss I Can’t Handle a Crisis making an announcement to go to the nearest exit with absolute terror in her voice, followed by us walking down 13 flights of stairs trying to escape an unknown “enemy”. Possibly it’s all the explosions I hear every day at work with the construction site across the street blasting 2-3 times a day. Or maybe it’s because of that day when it sounded like a huge plane was headed towards the windows only to see actual planes (in NYC) fly right passed the windows as part of some stupid air show. Or it could be all these damn movies/TV shows about terrorists. Really, who knows?

After one particularly horrid nightmare involving hundreds of planes in the sky dive-bombing everywhere whilst trying to avoid being hit by US missiles, I got on the bus only to have a driver of a certain ethnicity. Oh that was NOT what I needed that morning. Of course the whole ride, as has happened many times in the past, I really believed once we hit that tunnel that was it for me.

It’s not as if I think about this stuff all the time or dwell on it, it just hits me when in certain situations and I don’t know how to rationalize my feelings and fears. Although really, how irrational are they? I don’t think anyone who dies really thought it was gonna happen that day or in that manner. It makes you wonder though if you are crazy. Are you the only one that thinks about things like this? I wasn’t even in the city that day in September but I have dreams sometimes that really make me feel as if I have been through something just as horrific.

My goal from this point on, is to find a way to try and be at peace with at least some of these fears. Don’t know how I’m gonna do it, but baby steps will hopefully get me there. Perhaps I’ll try one fear at a time starting with the smallest and most irrational. Although heavens there are so many! Honestly, if I listed all the things that scare me I’d be up all night.

I think before I hit the sack tonight I’ll watch some cartoons or the Best of Will Ferrell to ensure I have happy dreams. No Robin Williams in my head tonight!

Wishing everyone else sweet dreams.

Jill E.

It Seems Assuming Really Does Make an Ass Out of You and Me – Well, Me Anyway

Back in 2000 I purchased a used Saturn. Well my parents purchased it for me but those little details are irrelevant. And if you want to be particular, my grandmother who had just passed away actually bought me the car as it was her money. Anyway, I remember at the time we were concerned about a small chip in the windshield. They kindly informed us that the service department sandblasted it and that the windshield therefore did not need to be replaced. Ok, well they sandblasted it at least. They seemed to care and did a thorough job of cleaning the car up and fixing any problems before I drove the car back to my humble abode. Quite a pleasant experience I must say.

That car was actually three years old when I took ownership but since it was given a thorough tune-up, all was well and I kept that lovely green automobile for the next 8 years. Eventually, after ten trips down to the Sunshine state and over 100,000 miles it was time to say goodbye to Meg. That’s the name I gave my car but soon regretted. Anyway, I said goodbye to Meg back in March and traded her in for a whole $400. I had been through so much with her and I just sold her for 400 bucks like a prostitute. It wasn’t easy since I knew she would be heading for the chop shop but you gotta do what you gotta do. Sorry Meg.

I had wanted initially to purchase a brand new car which I could really call my own. However, financially it seemed best to go with a slightly used car. I found one on the dealer website that was the model and color I had been searching for and it was only a year old. What a steal – or so I thought. Against my will, I took it for a test drive and all seemed well. I bought it and as soon as I got home the trouble began. First off, they had forgotten to engrave the window which is a security measure that I happened to pay an additional $800 for. You better damn well etch my windows. We had to drive immediately back to have it done. Actually, prior to this I noticed I was having trouble moving the passenger side mirror but that magically fixed itself. Problem averted.

Next up, after about a week of having this new, as of yet unnamed car, I noticed that the wiper blades are completely useless. The one on the driver’s side leaves three huge smears right in the line of sight. Great. So glad I can see in the rain while doing 70 miles per hour on the highway in the dark. My mother happened to run into someone who worked at the dealership and he informed her that they never replace wipers on the used cars before selling them but they would happily put them on if I bought them there. Uh duh! Really?

So today I go for my first oil change and also inform the service manager that I would like new wiper blades since it seems mine are both pieces of shit that they never felt the need to replace before selling me the car. Well, I didn’t say all of that but he said ok, that will be another $40. Ugh! I take a seat in their nowhere near as nice as Saturn waiting area where a certain someone happened to be on TV. Thank goodness everyone else left and I was able to change the channel. Conjuring up bad memories while already in an annoyed state would not have been a good idea. Especially since my mood was about to get progressively worse.

As is everyone sitting in the waiting area’s worst nightmare, the service guy came over to talk to me. He told me that my tires were wearing down and I am in dire need of a tire rotation and alignment. All I could think of was that fact that I had only driven the car for 3 months. How could I possibly have worn down the tires so much? Turns out they don’t do any tire maintenance before selling you a car either. Another $20 added to the growing total.

Sitting and growing angry, the man comes to talk to me again. He now informs me that my brake pads are literally almost gone and it is crucial that they be replaced now. I tell him to hold off and he says I can’t because they are just that bad. Again, here I was thinking I had been driving around for all of 3 months. How could I have worn down my pads in 3 months? Growing in anger, the next time he came back (to try to get me to buy ridiculous car accessories mind you) I asked him the question that was burning a hole in my head. So I guess you guys don’t fix or replace ANY of the wear parts before you sell these cars to people? He basically told me that as long as they pass inspection, everything is butterflies and rainbows. Even if the parts are nearing disaster but are deemed ok, they will sell you the car and the buyer is never the wiser UNTIL you go for service. Fan-F-ing-tastic!

It only got better when he told me I was due for my 30,000 mile service which costs $525. I left there angry and bitter and wishing I had gotten a brand new car, not from that dealer. I had assumed that like Saturn, although I was purchasing a pre-owned vehicle, it would at least have been thoroughly checked out and all the little wear parts would have been replaced. What an ass I am. Never again. I learned my lesson.

To anyone out there buying a used car, ask ask ask lots of questions before you sign that not-so-dotted line. Buying a slightly used car may end up costing you a lot more in the long run.

Signing Off Angry and Bitter,

Jill E.

Forty-Seven Square Miles of Magic

"When you believe in a thing, believe in it all the way, implicitly and unquestionable.” - WD

Had I been alive October 1st, 1971, my life would no doubt have changed that day. What you ask could have been so important? What life changing event happened on that October day back in 1971? Well, the Magic Kingdom opened at Walt Disney World in Lake Buena Vista, FL of course. Yes I know, Disneyland opened before that, but being from the east coast, I am a Disneyworld girl all the way. It’s crazy really how a rodent can consume your life.

For me, it all started in 1984. First trip to Disney with the family.

Since I was only 4, all I really remember was being TERRIFIED by a man pretending to be a robot. Please, men are scary enough. We stayed at the Polynesian which is a fantastic hotel right on the lagoon a hop, skip, and a monorail ride from the Magic Kingdom. In the decade to come, I made two more visits with the family which were thoroughly magical and soon after, a trip with my best friend and her family right after we graduated High School. The trip was equivalent to a much needed getting out of jail present. Yeah, that’s how much I liked High School.

Although I had developed a love for all things Disney, I really don’t think I truly felt the magic until I hit my 20’s. The older I get, the more I love the mouse. It’s insatiable. I need more Mickey! As soon as I pass through those Disney Gates I revert back to being 6 years old. I’m serious. And as you can see, not much has changed over the years.

It has been almost a year to the day since I have been through those Disney gates and it’s like a tiny piece of me is gone. There is a sad empty place in my heart. To ease the pain, I watched a vacation planning DVD today that came in the mail. The cheese factor was way high but I think I shed a tear watching it. Who wouldn’t want to spend their evening learning about Disney’s four theme parks; two water parks; 32 resort hotels (22 owned and operated by Walt Disney World); 99 holes of golf on six courses; two full-service spas; Disney's Wedding Pavilion; Disney's Wide World of Sports Complex; and Downtown Disney, an entertainment-shopping-dining complex encompassing the Marketplace, Pleasure Island and West Side. Wow! That may actually be too much excitement for one night!

Perhaps to the shock of many, I’ve even made several trips to the parks alone. The best was when Millionaire trekked down there (for what would be the last time). I was only working one day so I used everyone else’s passes and my friend’s hotel room at the Animal Kingdom Lodge and wandered to all of the parks for FREE! It was all well and good until I got to the front of Peter Pan and they asked how many. I have to admit, I felt quite loser like having to say “Just one”. Who rides Peter Pan alone? I guess I do! That was the trip we got to ride Expedition Everest before it opened - - 3 times in a row actually. Despite almost puking from the continuous riding, it was one of my best Disney memories! That’s Kayla and me before the puking sensation set in.

Last year I had a power trip planned – 4 parks in 2 days. Being alone definitely made it easier to achieve my goals. I knew what I wanted to hit and made it happen. Sadly, the haunted mansion was closed, but thanks to the DVD I watched today, I learned it was closed due to renovations. My cousin, goddaughter and I went to the park one day too and for the first time in YEARS, went to a character breakfast. Can you say excited? First of all it was a breakfast buffet – HEAVEN!!!! And secondly, the characters would come over to each table and take pictures with the guests! Mickey Mouse came to my table!!!! Twice I might add. I really do think we make a great couple. And check out the food. Yum! Mickey waffles, cheesy eggs, cinnamon buns, and the real Mickey. Really, how can life get any better?

I blame my parents for this. It’s really their fault as they love the mouse whole heartedly as I do. In my present situation it looks like much more time will pass before I get to see Mickey again. But, in the meantime, I still have my DVD and plenty of Disney mementos to keep me happy. Perhaps after I finish this entry I will pop in my Disney Theme park music CD, put on my anniversary Mickey Ears, and close my eyes pretending I’m really there. Nothing beats that Splash Mountain music!

To all the fellow Disney lovers out there, have a magical night!

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” – WD

Jill E.