Haunted Disney

As mentioned before, I took the kids out to southern California last month, and went to Disneyland. I usually go every summer, but last summer we didn't go because we had a lot of other things planned, not to mention a wedding, and a trip to the Azores. When I was a kid, my parents never took us to Disneyland, but don't feel too sorry for us. Instead of Disneyland, we went to either Pismo Beach, or we went to the Azores, and we lived in Santa Cruz, a coastal town known for its beaches, and boardwalk with roller coasters and rides. We weren't deprived in no means, and I don't regret any one of those trips to the Azores whatsoever, but I always wondered why we never got to go to Disneyland as children. So, at the first opportunity as an adult I went, and I've gone ever since.

We usually go in the summer or spring, and this was the first time we actually went in February. It was less expensive to go this time of year, and it was a little rainy and colder, but it all mean't less people and shorter lines. On the first day we were there, we got on every ride with a minimal line wait of 5 to 7 minutes if that. As it got later in the day and darker(and wetter) the lines were pretty much non-existent. As we approached one of the last rides of the evening, the Haunted Mansion, it was easy to see why my youngest, Nicholas was not going to have anything to do with the place. I had to admit, the mansion did look more daunting than usual. The tall mansion, in the rain, lighted only by the dim lights and a full moon in the middle of darkness truly looked like a haunted mansion. So, while Liz and Andrew ventured inside, Nicholas and I stayed away in search of a drinking fountain.

I've heard many stories about the Haunted Mansion, including the disbursement of human ashes inside the ride. Stories of people actually bringing the ashes of their loved ones to the ride fulfilling their last wishes of forever to be in the "happiest place on earth." Here's a link to a related article:

http://travel.latimes.com/articles/la-trw-disney14nov14

It's a little unsettling, isn't it? I guess some Disneyland enthusiasts would love the idea of having their remains forever locked in the Haunted Mansion, or live with the mechanical pirates on the Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't know about you, but if I had to make a choice of what ride to be "scattered" in, I would pick a happy ride, where I could see smiling faces of children each day, like the Peter Pan ride, or the Dumbo Ride. Oh, and yes, It's A Small World is a very happy ride, if you can handle hearing that song over and over again---it might be just a living hell.

The next day I went on the Haunted Mansion ride with my older son Andrew. It certainly wasn't the first time I've been on this ride, but I wanted to pay closer attention to it. I was determined to find something that I had never noticed before. The ride, in the beginning proved to be pretty uneventful, familiar and predictable, until of course it stopped three times right in the middle of the graveyard, and by the knocking, and vibrating doors that sounded like heartbeats. Lovely.

You know, when you are gliding by through the ride, and it's "spooky" little scenario scenes, it really isn't very frightening, until your buggy gets stuck right there in the middle of it. I have to admit I was feeling a little uncomfortable sitting there in my buggy in the middle of the graveyard, admid the singing and flying ghosts. I found myself wondering, gee, may be there are real spirits of people in this ride having a little fun. Then suddenly, from the ride you hear the narrator's voice go on the loud speaker to announce that the "spirtis" were disrupting the ride again, and that ride would resume once the "spirts" have "moved on." Lovely. Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, the buggy started up again proceeded its way towards the end of the ride.

Right when the buggy starting moving, I heard a small knock on the side of my buggy. I was a little startled by it. I waited to hear Andrew tell me he had heard the same knock, but apparently, he didn't. I didn't want to frighten the boy, but I was left to wonder about this knock throughout the rest of the ride. It didn't help that I was thinking of all the potential scatterings of ashes that may have been lurking inside the ride right before I actually heard this "unexplained knock" that I only heard. And, of course, I did not want to mention this knock to Andrew because I didn't want him to get scared or anything. I still haven't told him about it, because I'm still questioning it myself. I have wondered perhaps if it was the people in the buggy behind us who knocked on our buggy, but I don't think that would be possible, or perhaps it was someone walking around the ride that did it. I've heard that there are actual people who run the ride that dress in costume with the sole purpose of frightening ride goers, but I did not see anyone. Let's just say I left the ride wondering about it. Apparently, I still am. The little ghost doll at the end of the ride, with the mocking voice who said goodbye to us didn't help matters either.

The mysterious knock on my buggy wasn't the only freaky experience that happened during my Disneyland visit.

We stayed at the Paradise Pier Hotel near the park, and I ended up having to buy a new pair of sunglasses at their gift shop. You see, we had gone on the Indiana Jones ride earlier that afternoon, and I apparently looked into the eyes of the Goddess Medusa, which prompted my sunglasses to fly off my head, only to be lost in a river of lava for all eternity. I went to the hotel's gift shop in search of a new pair, when I encountered the most strangest woman. I don't know if I looked any more suspicious than the average customer, I mean, I don't think I fit a profile of someone who would likely steal or commit a crime. When shopping a lot of people think I actually work at the stores I shop in. (It has happened to me for years, and I don't really understand why.)

This woman was working at the register and I could definitely feel she was staring at me. I was not the only person in the store, but I could tell she was very intent to watch me as I shopped around the carousel of sunglasses . There wasn't much to choose from as it was, but this woman made me feel so uneasy, that I ended up buying any pair just to get out of the place. When I finally made it to the cash register, she started talking to me, and was pleasant enough, but she still had that weird look in her eyes. It wasn't her appearance, but it was in the way she looked at me, like she knew me for some place or somewhere. She had a sort of blankness in her eyes, and when I explained why I needed glasses (she made a comment about the glasses), she responded with a very serious tone of voice, and went on to say that she always wanted to work on that ride because of all the lost items that are thrown off and lost, but, she then said that my glasses were probably somewhere broken by now with a concerned look on her face. I wanted to tell her that I could care less because they were a cheap pair of $10 sunglasses, but I just wanted to get out of there and not invite more conversation with this weird woman.

I'll have to remember to put my sunglasses in the net in front me on the ride next time, and not look into the eyes of Medusa. This woman at the gift shop wasn't really rude, she just reminded me of a zombie from that movie, the Night of The Living Dead. Her eyes were missing a certain brightness and soul to them. She was just plain spooky. "Come back again!" she called out. I don't think so...

Doris

(This entry has nothing to do with the lovely Doris Day, but if my GPS system was personified, she would be a lot like her....so may be this entry has a lot to do with Doris Day...you to decide...)

Driving home from L.A. in afternoon traffic, a black convertible sports car whizzed past, blasting Madonna's "Material Girl." The driver of car was a bald African American male, with large sunglasses talking loudly on his blue tooth. His license plate read: 1FunGuy I tried to get past him in traffic to take his picture, but the traffic did not allow it. He must have turned off at an exit, never too be seen again.

I should have known better to leave Disneyland after 2 pm, but I was hoping that a holiday Monday would be lighter in traffic, but of course I was wrong. It seemed that everyone had the day off, and that everyone was either enjoying the dry weather, or on their way home from the long weekend like we were.

"Extreme traffic ahead, recalculating..." my GPS woman exclaimed this almost every 5 miles throughout our journey out of the city. Can you say irritating? Nothing would shut that .itch up..

Let's call GPS woman, Doris.

I have a love/hate relationship with Doris. Sometimes she gets me to where I need to be, and I am very thankful for her company, but there are often times where Doris directs me to places that I shouldn't be, or don't want to be, and places that I never knew existed.

While in Marina Del Rey, Doris took us to a non-existent movie theatre, located in the middle of a lovely condominium duplex, one wrong exit, and a closed restaurant. There was a moment there where I was very tempted to throw Doris out of the window, but I didn't. I think Doris needs to be updated--it really isn't her fault. She does take me to the right place most of the time, but there was a moment there when she directed me off of Hwy 5, to an exit in L.A., looking over the city, where I seriously feared for the lives of myself and my innocent children. It was like being in an episode of Southland. I expected to see gun shots exchanged, or a high speed police chase happen in front of me. AND, still there was that exit Doris directed me to take because of more "extreme traffic" warnings, where she directed me away from Hwy 5 yet again, to avoid the Grapevine, where I found myself driving through Palmdale, onto Hwy 138--Avenue D.


Lovely Avenue D

Avenue D - Highway 138 proved to be a stretch of 38 miles through the middle of nowhere. It's a lovely road of nothing on both sides, only road kill, abandoned vehicles and little more. True there were a few ranch homes there, and some lovely hills in the background, but nothing else. In my daughter's words, "It's a place you are brought to be shot and left for dead." It was also a place where people apparently had abandoned many vehicles. We counted quite a few and we drove past. Who knows what or who was inside of them.. If it wasn't for the fact that I did have a full tank of gas, and had my vehicle fixed and checked beforehand, this place would make me very, very nervous. It's not a place you want your car to break down on.

Highway 138, Avenue D (D for Dead or D for Doris?) is a two lane highway, with slow trucks. One must pass the trucks to go faster---and, yes, I did. I passed 4 trucks, and I swear one of those trucks sped up when I was trying to pass it. Luckily, it was still daylight out, and I was not alone. Seemed like other vehicles with corrupt GPS systems, such as Doris, had directed other motorists in the same direction. It made me feel better while I was dodging trucks to know that I was not alone. I didn't know later that this stretch of highway had nicknames like "blood alley" but I could understand why. After finally getting off of Avenue D, back to Hwy 5, I was very tempted to throw Doris out the window so she could meet her own demise, but I don't throw expensive toys out the window, and it's the only thing that saved her.

My Afternoon At Sears Optical

The other day I had the great honor of taking the Queen mother (my mom) to the optometrist at Sears. Wow, it was quite an experience! I couldn’t believe the characters we ran into at that place. There must have been a week of a new moon, because the people we encountered there were out of the ordinary. My mother and I spent a good portion of our time just sitting there in the lobby taking it all in, sometimes laughing and snickering in Portuguese. (Knowing a second language comes in handy sometimes.)

My mother immediately pointed out one customer that looked like the cartoon character, Peter Griffin from Family Guy. I was surprised how quickly my mom made that connection. I was unaware she even watched Family Guy. My mom is just full of surprises! This guy WAS in fact a dead ringer for Peter Griffin! He had the hair, the clothes, the glasses, only difference is he was wearing Birkenstocks with blue turquoise socks. Okay, he was a Santa Cruz version of Peter Griffin. Of course, guess who got to sit across Peter Griffin in the lobby while my mom got her eyes tested? Yes, I did, and wow, I quickly learned that Peter was quite the conversationalist! Lucky me!



It wasn’t long until two other cartoon characters walked in. This time, it was Hank and Dale from King Of The Hill, personified. Both of them walked in wearing glasses and high rise wrangler jeans. They were wearing t-shirts, tucked into their jeans, both revealing a pair of swollen beer bellies. All that was missing was a can of beer in each hand, and a cigarette hanging out of Dale’s mouth. My mom and I exchanged glances at one another, and tried our best not to burst into laughter. It wasn’t as much as their appearance, but the way they approached the lobby. They slowly entered the lobby like deer caught in the headlights. It was very strange. They were apparently both on a mission.



We all got an ear full of their “mission” while I politely conversed with “Peter” while my mother was getting her eyes tested. We overheard, “Hank” complaining to the salesman, as he tried to bargain on a price for a new pair of transitional lens glasses for his brother, “Dale”. Apparently, he “bought his brother a pair with his Sears charge card three years ago, and the lenses aren’t turning into sunglasses when he goes outside no more…” Let’s just say Hank was not amused with the price to replace his brother’s glasses.

“He is actually bargaining with the sales clerk!” exclaimed Peter.

The atmosphere was getting a little heated before the salesman got on the phone to speak to the manager. Meanwhile another guy walked in to pick up a pair of glasses. This guy looked like Elmer Fud. He wasn’t wearing a hunting cap, but I wish he had been because he had this large dry scab on the top of his bald head. The sales girl couldn’t find his second pair of glasses, so Elmer sat there, waiting for the salesman to get off the phone. He went on to chat to the poor girl, telling her stories of how he had already out-lived his parents, and how he saved himself from drowning in a creek. He never said anything about his head injury, and I’m quite surprised he didn’t because it looked rather serious, and I would have thought he wanted to impress the girl with yet another story about how he had gotten it. May be it’s from when he “saved himself” from drowning in that creek. May he hit a rock?



Well, meanwhile, Hank and Dale finally got the negotiated price they hoped for the glasses, and Hank’s voice went down a few notches. Dale said nothing. I don’t think he even spoke once. What seemed to be eternity, my mom finally got out of the exam room, and Peter Griffin finally went inside with his turquoise socks.

My mother chose a nice pair of Sophia Loren glasses. After waiting 15 minutes for the sales clerk to finally find my mom’s prescription for the glasses that were right there at the register, he sat down with us and it wasn’t long before he was pitching to my mother the wonders of transitional lenses. By this time, we were tired of hearing about these glasses---Hank and Dale’s situation did not help the cause. I guess this sales clerk was a little disappointed when my mother said no to them. She had to tell him three times before he finally got a clue. This sales clerk had a very stuffy nose, that he was constantly clearing while he sat with us. It was not pleasant. Let's call him, Sneezy.



Sneezy explained that he had some kind of disease (he explained what it was, but I don't remember) that made his sinus’stuffy, and eyes water. Too much information. I think he was trying to impress me. He kept on asking for my name, telling me that I could pick the new glasses on Valentines Day. Wow. The waving of my left hand with my wedding ring, did not phase him. He did fix my mom’s old glasses though—I will give him that much. Apparently the reason why my mother has been feeling dizzy, and why her handwriting has been a little messy lately isn’t because her prescription was too old, it was because the person who put them in last put them upside down. Mystery solved!

After 3 hours at Sears, we finally left the building. The people we met that day unfortunately will be remembered for a long time. No, I did not go pick up the glasses on Valentines Day. The glasses are still there.

Annoying Friendly, Hippy Guy...

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about the gas station next door to my office building. Well, it’s still there, and there is this guy there who doesn’t work at the station, but shows up ever so often to chat with the cashier that works there. This guy kind of gives me the creeps. It’s not because of his appearance, his stringy long white hair, and hippy attire doesn’t bother me, but his constant conversations do. I don’t know if he works around the building or what, but he apparently has a lot of time to kill, and he is just a little too overly friendly for my taste. He won’t touch you or anything, but he will try and start a conversation each time I walk into the door with a little compliments, like, “Boy you look pretty today!” or, “What a pretty dress!” “You have beautiful hair!” Leaving me to think, okay, this guy is just a little too friendly. What does he want? I just try and let it slide and not read into it too much, because I’m not interested at all in getting to know this guy, and I hope he isn’t wanting to get to know me. I just say thanks, and try to leave the place as soon as I can without looking obvious that I am trying to leave the place as soon as I can, because I don’t want to come across being annoyed with the guy, when I really am. Make sense? Why do I care so much if I come across as being rude or mean? Why? I’m not the one being annoying---he is. But, no, he won’t let me leave so fast, until he asks where I work, and how my day is going. Really? What makes some people think they can just randomly ask strangers questions about their lives? I mean, I don’t want to sound mean, but is it really appropriate for people to just try and jump into other people’s lives and ask personal questions about their lives when in reality they don’t even know your name? Well, fortunately, he doesn’t know my name. If he asks, I’ve decided to call myself “Sally”. Anyway, he reminds me of a woman I know, (a completely different blog entry) who is equally annoying, and I wish she worked in the building so I could introduce them both to each other. They would make a nice annoying hippy couple.

Just some rambling thoughts..

When I was younger, I went to a trade/business school and earned a diploma for Travel and Airline. I never pursued this career because, at the age of 20, life was moving faster than I had originally planned. I found myself suddenly married, (the guy I met the previous summer left his homeland and family to marry me), and we were still living in my parents home, both of us looking for employment. Two years later, we actually both had two decent, good paying jobs, moving into our place and paying a mortgage, and my first born, Elizabeth was on the way. I had landed a great secretarial government county job, with insurance, and my dad told me to “never leave it” because I was “set for life” there. Well, guess what? 23 years later, I’m still working there.

If I were to leave where I worked, I don’t think my diploma for Travel and Airline would be worth much today. I’m guessing ticketing procedures have changed in the last 20+ years.. There was a time when I wanted to be a travel agent, or work on a cruise ship. But do people really use travel agents anymore? In this day in age, most everyone books their vacations online. I used a travel agent for my last vacation, and I really don’t know why. The travel agent proved to be pretty useless to us when it came to the seating arrangements on the plane. The whole purpose of booking a flight with my mother was so she wouldn’t be flying “alone” and after explaining this fact over and over again, our agent still seated my mother 5 rows ahead of us. She also booked my 6 year son’s seat two rows ahead of mine, which didn’t make much sense either. Thankfully we got to the airport on time, and we were able to change at least my son’s seating. As for my mom’s seat, she sat by an older gentlemen, ahead of me, and I could see only the top of her head. I went down the aisle a few times to make sure she was alive because she hardly moved from her seat!

I heard the other day that JCPenny was getting rid of their catalogue, and this made me sad. I remember when we had the Sears catalogue AND even the Montgomery Ward (aka Monkey Wards) catalogue growing up---both gone as well. They were all a source of great entertainment for me as a child. I made countless paper dolls from them, and even glued them to cardboard. They interacted with my Barbie dolls, and were the “one dimensional neighbors” that lived down the street, that never sat down. (When you are glued to cardboard, it is very difficult.) Now JCPenny catalogue is going away, and there is even word that the Yellow Pages/phone book is going out the door. Seriously, I never use my phone book, and I think there are 3 years worth of them in my closet, but I remember sitting on them when I was a child at the kitchen table. Sigh….

Every now and then, our kids will ask us an off the wall question that we just don’t know the answer to. My husband’s favorite answer is: “Look it up on the internet!”
Kids nowadays just don’t know how good they have it. I remember having to go to the library and using the copy machine to copy important information from books to complete my reports for school, and if that wasn’t available, I would go through Grandma Costa’s old prized encyclopedia collection from 1952. Can you still buy encyclopedias nowadays? I wonder…

I don’t know where I’m going with this entry…. Lots of changes are, and is going on, and I think I’m feeling a little burned and fed up in my current, old position. I think I need a change, but 23 years..damn---it all went much too fast for me. Right now, all I want to do is leave the office and finish reading a book.

Just Another Tall Tale

Earlier this week, I went to one of my son’s field trips at a local museum. I managed to get out of work earlier so I could meet up with him at lunch. I found a parking meter space behind the museum next to the park, and although it was a little far away, I was happy to get a parking space that wasn’t across the street near the highway off-ramp. When it was time to leave, and as we were walking towards our van, I noticed another silver, Nissan Quest van backing out of a parking spot, where I thought I had parked, and then drive swiftly away.

“Gee! I think someone just drove off in our van!”

Nicholas and I both raced up the sidewalk in a panic, until when we finally got a view of the rest of the parking meters, and OUR silver Nissan Quest parked right where I actually had it parked. What a relief! We both happily got into the van and drove for home, both laughing and joking about how scared we were. It was an exciting moment for Nicholas, and I guess he just had to “share” this incident to his teachers and classmates the next day.

Well, apparently Nicholas added a few embellishments to the story to make it more exciting for his listening audience. This morning I was greeted by one of the teachers who exclaimed, “Was your van really stolen on the day of the field trip?!” Yes, according to Miss Sara, one of Nicholas’ teachers, he had told the entire class that our van was stolen by a “gangster” and we had to take the bus home, and then had to go buy a new car. I looked over at Nicholas who had just got into the classroom. He was sitting there on the carpet, listening to us with a huge grin on his face. I explained to the teacher what really happened.

“Now, that was just a big fib on Nicholas’ part,” I explained.

“Yes, that was quite a tall tale!” Miss Sara exclaimed.

Luckily for Nicholas his teacher wasn’t too upset, nor was I. I guess it’s pay back time for the big tall tale I had told my own 1st grade teacher.

I still remember listening to my classmates talk about their younger siblings. I could not contribute to their conversation, because I was the youngest in my family, with an older brother and sister, until one day, I decided to make my life a little more interesting. I announced to everyone that I indeed also had a baby brother. I told them how my mom had recently had a baby, and for a few days there, I found myself the center of attention. Each morning my poor teacher, Miss Maxwell would ask me how my “baby brother” was doing. And each morning I would reply shyly, “Fine..” Finally I felt like I had something in common with my other classmates, and we exchanged “cute little stories” about our cute little baby brothers and sisters.

How was I to know that my teacher and my mom would eventually run into each other at the local TG&Y? I remember it like it was yesterday; there was Miss Maxwell cornering my poor unsuspecting mother in an aisle in the store, congratulating her on her “new arrival.” I remember hiding in the soap aisle, and running to the front of the store just when I heard my mother exclaim jokingly with a sweet Portuguese accent, “Baby!? What baby? I didn’t have a baby!” I rushed into the car where my father was patiently waiting and sat there with him in silence. My mother wasn’t very pleased, because she felt embarrassed for my teacher, and I avoided all eye contact with Ms. Maxwell for days. I never spoke of my “baby brother” again. It was a good thing because I was running out of stories.

2011....helloo...

It's January---a new month, a new year...hopefully one full of inspiration. Who knows, may be I'll be inspired enough this year to write more?

I've heard the questions: When, Julie, when will you be writing "that book?" I've been haunted by this question over and over again.. It's like a dog gnawing slowly on the same old leather shoe, everyday. The shoe laces are shredded, and that old poor hound dog is looking at me with those big soulful sad eyes, that tell me.. "Julie...enough already..I'm tired." I question myself. I wonder if I can accomplish it. I also wonder if I'm ever going to finish that black and white striped blanket that I started last year for my daughter Lizzy. (Another resolution of mine.) Sometimes I wish I had more confidence in myself. Bad excuse, I know. I hear my sister-inlaw, Otilia somewhere in the background of my memory, the last summer I saw her, asking that very same question. Her eyes and voice full of excitement, she asked me about the book I was going to write, years and years ago. She had not forgotten after all those years. Her question surprised me, and caught be off guard, and at the same time, it saddened me. After all those years, how could I have forgotten? All those years she had believed it would happen, and with life, kids, and the chaos of everyday life put it all in the background, slowly further down the list of "to do's". Driving down to the city of Angra do Heroismo, with the kids in tow, off to get an ice cream at the port of Sao Mateus, I drove with my sister-inlaw on a summer afternoon. Little did I know it would be the last day I would ever see her. Believe me, driving past her house this summer, seeing the windows closed, the curtains hanging there motionless, with no life inside was difficult to see. If I had known, there would have been more summer afternoons of ice cream and drives to the city.

I think changes are in the horizon for me this year. Good changes..not drastic go blonde changes, but I may come across a little bit more selfish to some people. I may surprise you, or I may not. I'm taking my priorities more seriously this year, so you may or may not see a change. But, I vow to say NO more often, and perhaps I may even drink more wine. So I raise a glass to you and yours. May this year be the year of resolved resolutions! May your year be filled with happiness and peace, and may you all have a good time!

Be good to yourself.