lost friend, found weekend


It’s an interesting experience, to be pregnant for the first time and on a flight to Orlando solo. Of course, there were a million kids. Most of them were not happy (at least not until we landed). For every 2.5 unhappy kids, there were too harried parents. I kept wondering how the parents would survive this week, since they looked to be on the verge of coming undone on the flight.
I was supposed to meet up with Wendy and Olivia this weekend. Wendy is MIA. Most likely, she forgot. Or she has been chopped into bits. It really isn’t like Wendy to forget, but I also don’t want to make too big a deal over this in case there is a simple explanation. Christopher, who is due to fly to Florida on Wednesday, also has not heard from her. We decided that, if neither one of us gets a hold of her by Tuesday night, then the local police will be called so they can do a drive by and make sure all is well.
So I had an Orlando weekend to fill all by myself.
On Saturday, I spent a large amount of time reading by the pool. The sunshine seemed amusement enough. I don’t own a maternity swimsuit, so I wore a short sleeved shirt and black pants (which is what I wore one the beach this summer). Pam Anderson, I am not. There is something called “Downtown Disney” near my hotel, so I looked up what there was to do there online. I nearly peed my pants in junior high excitement when I saw that the Cramps were playing. I’ve never seen the Cramps, but it would be a concert I’d gladly attend (especially if it was free and I had nothing better to do). At that point I realized that I was looking at the schedule for DisneyLand, not DisneyWorld.
So the concert was out. Instead, I looked at all of the 5,432 shops at “Downtown Disney”. There is nothing in this world that cannot be sold with a mouse logo on it. I think I even saw a Mickey colostomy bag. I had the best salad that I have ever had in my life at the Wolfgang Puck restaurant. It was baby spinach, blue cheese, radicchio, very finely chopped red onion, and honeyed pecans with a marinated chicken breast on top. From the ingredient list, I wasn’t expecting much, but it was DIVINE.
On Sunday, I attended the Food and Wine Festival at Epcot. I really had a great time, which surprised me a bit as I didn’t expect to. There were international cooking demonstrations, tastings, and food booths from all over the world (not just from the countries that have permanent displays). America was there, en force, and they wholeheartedly rejected anything that could be seen as exotic. So I had the South African, Peruvian, and Piedmontese booths to myself. Instead, everyone lined up in front of the Italy booth. They were selling Baked Ziti and Pepperoni Pizza. Mexico’s booth was awfully popular too (tacos). Mexico was also selling Watermelon Water, which was kick ass good and one of the only non-alcoholic drinks available.
Once I figured out what was selling and what wasn’t, I almost forgave Morocco for selling only Lebanese food at their stall. Well, almost. I also wanted to council them that, when Lebanese food was first introduced to America it was considered exotic and yet we accepted it. So why not give us some credit. Because if you don’t give us credit, we aren’t likely to have any on our own. There was a real Moroccan restaurant there too, I ended up having dinner there. My decision was based entirely on my love of Bisteeya. It was good, but not great. Plus there was a belly dancer performing in the restaurant. I’m not entirely positive, but I believe that belly dance is not actually Moroccan. But whatever, this is Disney.
I finished the day by inadvertently attending an Eddie Money concert. It made me sad. How tragic is it that this man, whose career apex has long since passed, is forced to repeat his biggest hit, over and over, with the words “I want to go back and do it all over, but I can’t go back, I know”. Sad, sad, sad. He also ended the concert by saying that he performs for the love of the audience, not the money. This also struck me as sad as I imagined that most of the people in attendance where there by random chance like I was and not out of any real desire to see Eddie Money. Sigh.
So I’m now off to get 40 hours of information security training. You’ll be so happy to know that I passed my background screening and was allowed to register for the certification exam. The exam itself runs from 8:00am to 3:00pm, without a lunch break. Owen will not be pleased. Also, there is a dress code for the exam (business casual). I don’t know if they will actually deny me admittance if I don’t show up in khakis, but I dare not push them at this point.

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