Friday, October 20th - Sometimes Planning is Overrated and Things Just Went From Odd to Weird...
With so much spare time on our hands we decided that this would be a great opportunity for us to explore the Wilderness Lodge. We've heard great things about the WL from both family and friends, and while one or the other of them may lie to us at any given time, we've found that they rarely lie to us simultaneously, especially about hotel properties.
Besides, we've now unintentionally watched the Wilderness Lodge episode of
Great Hotels 23 times and we think we should see if this place lives up to the hype. We're also trying to decide if we might ever want to stay here - we're still not convinced that anything can beat our personal favorite: The Beach Club Villas!!
Fabulous purchases in hand (see last post for pictorial evidence of said fabulousness) we jump back on the monorail over to the MK, where we will catch one of those cute little boats to the Wilderness Lodge. While spending more time inside the monorail than we actually wanted to, we strike up a conversation with a very attractive family of four from Indiana. The ice breaker, you wonder?
My gray, uber-comfy ESPN jacket, purchased right here at WDW during the 2004 NLCS (beer, tuna, four hours perched on hard barstools screaming our heads off, going to
MNSSHP on an extra-inning homerun-high...those were the days).
Why on earth did I wear a jacket on a day when the temperature was forecast at more than 90 degrees? Because those restaurants, buses, and monorails are deliciously cold...at first. And then I break out in goosebumps and begin to shiver uncontrollably. Factor in medically induced, unpredictable hot flashes at the most inconvenient of times and sprinkle that with the knowledge that my emotional dam could burst at any moment and you will understand how my jacket turned into a...well...it basically became a binky!
Anyway, what I remember most about this family, other than their little girls who were just beautiful, is that they kept trying to guess where Jason and I were from.
Unfairly attractive mom of ridiculously beautiful children:
"I can't seem to place your accents...where exactly are you from?"
Decidely plain feeling bespectacled female with a ponytail:
"We have an accent? I always thought we were accent-less."
Woman with flawless skin, perfect hair, and not-an-ounce-of-extra-fat:
"Yes, that's what I mean - neither of you have an accent. That's so odd...are you from California?"
I wonder if Jason is thinking the same thing I am: Does she mean that only odd things come from California or that people who sound like they are from nowhere must be from the West Coast?
Insecure, hormonal, middle-aged woman who wishes she'd lost more weight before surgery and who is wondering how on earth someone can wear make-up in this kind of heat without looking like a melted statue from Madame Tussaud's replies:
"We're actually from the St. Louis area."
Mannequin woman's response is a puzzled look followed by this comment:
"Oh, okay. You just don't sound like anyone I've ever spoken with from Missouri."
There's a generational language thing in St. Louis - we notice it with our parents all the time. This is the best example I can provide:
Older folks from STL drive on highway
Farty, they hang the
Warsh out to dry, and they love to eat
Eye-talian food.
We younger STL residents drive on highway
Forty, do the laundry or hang the
Wash out to dry, and do enjoy a well-prepared
Italian meal now and then.
While we were waiting for a boat we took a picture of one of the MNSSHP decorations outside the MK. I love the way WDW decorates for Halloween...I am always amazed by their attention to detail. This is just one little example:
We didn't think to take a picture of the boat as it was pulling up to the dock, but we did snap a picture of one as we were...sailing...nope, that doesn't seem like the right word, uh...driving...no, we're in a boat not a car, ummm...riding...still seems awkward...oh well, bilge! Here's a picture of a WL boat in case you were wondering what it looks like.
And here is the morning's self-portrait (Cue Johnny Nash...
It's a bright, bright sunshiny day...)
Note to self: Hey, Squinty-Can't-See! Get yourself some freakin' prescription sunglasses before the sun burns a hole in your retinas!
)
Inconceivable!!! 
