the ocean

The return to reality after our week at Disney has been a bit jarring. The flight back did not help. We were delayed, and the Orlando airport has some serious third world vibes to it. There were fracases galore as they boarded our giant, international-sized flight full of people desperate to get the hell out of Florida. And I swear to God someone in the row ahead of us was watching and rewatching Maid in Manhattan. Well played, Satan.

When we got back, it was like 17 degrees out. I worry that you're going to read this and think I just mean that it was very cold, but in Chicago 17 degrees is an actual thing we experience. Or even -17 degrees, thanks to the Polar Vortex. That's where your face starts stinging just because you've stepped outside. And not because of the Botox, for once.

I also had to dive right into a week of rehearsals and shows for my amateur theatrical for lawyers. If I didn't put on wigs and deliver pun-based humor, who would? It was, of course, a fine time with friends, but also a terrifying hellscape of sleep deprivation. Plus I caught some kind of something, so I was sucking down Alka Seltzer Cold & Flu like my life depended on it, which perhaps it did.

And then there's the little thing we call work. I'm lucky to have a great job where I work with intelligent, non-toxic people, but it does still require the doing of some things. I'll admit I copped out and worked from home on a few of the painful face days, but otherwise I've been diligently getting sneezed on on the el and heading to the land of double monitors and copy machines. I even assembled some binders, so you know I'm serious.

Anyway, it's January. It's supposed to be awful. I have high hopes for late March, though.

 Continuing with the Disney adventures. I've managed to limit myself to two installments, I believe.

The Skyliner linked our resort to Epcot and Hollywood Studios. And I loved the many visual warnings it gave us. If I were ever planning to wear a lariat necklace on the Skliner, I now know better. (Yes, that is obviously "no smoking," but it took me several tries to see that.)

Here we all are at Epcot, which still presents a stunning 1980s-based vision of the future. There has been some updating to reflect the fact that America has steadily increased its hatred of being educated in any way since then, but some entertaining shreds of optimism remain.

Spaceship Earth created this nifty simulation of me and Ian in the future, riding in our space car with our praying-mantis-like bodies. I can get behind this.

There's a spot in Epcot where you can taste different flavors of Coke from around the world, and they are all pretty gross.

Ian's head is sort of blocking the castle, but take my word for it that we are on Main Street U.S.A. in the Magic Kingdom espousing traditional American values, like hot dogs and classism. 

For some reason, the kids both wanted me to take their photo with this sign at Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. I mean, sure, it's a great sign, but I've seen better.

Splash Mountain has been rethemed to be less racist, but it still gets you quite wet if you are in the front of the boat. Luckily I have no vanity about me.

As you walk into It's a Small World, you cross a bridge where you can see the happy faces of the people who are just finishing their journey on this classic ride. In no way have they been touched by madness.

I had assumed that Enchanted Tales with Belle would involve Belle telling the children a story. But no, it turns out they want the children to act out a story for Belle, which seems kind of rude. Like, you invite people to your castle and make them perform for you? And while the children are all volunteers, they press two unwilling and unlucky adults into service as the suits of armor. I had become separated from the herd and was selected for this honor, which is commemorated in this non-consensual photo. 

We only managed to stay long enough to catch the fireworks on one night. But they were very nice. The Phil Collins jam from "Tarzan" figured more prominently than one would have expected, but different strokes for different folks/animated characters.

Maybe I'll become one of those Disney travel tips people. Tip number one: you are not actually obligated to go to Disney at all, though it may feel like it.

At Animal Kingdom, there was a dinosaur ride that included a film starring Phylicia Rashad for some reason. She did not get eaten by a dinosaur. Nor did anyone, actually.

Even with all of the high-tech, expensive rides, it turns out that the kids still wanted to spend half an hour digging in what was essentially a dinosaur-themed sandbox.

We went on a fake safari and saw giraffes. And a lot of other animals, too, but giraffes are undeniably baller.

There was a river ride where people got very wet. Fortunately, we had purchased some obviously very high end ponchos to help protect ourselves.

There was a Finding Nemo stage show where they strapped puppets and heavy machinery onto the actors before they had to sing and dance about. I hear this is how Glenn Close started out.

Moving to Hollywood Studios, they have a fake version of L.A.'s "Chinese Theater." I have seen the actual version and can attest that this version is superior for the lack of traffic and people trying to spit in your mouth.

Lots of Star Wars stuff. I have not even seen all of the Star Wars movies, but I think I got the gist of it. Frodo has to use The Force to beat Voldemort, right?