nwdisgal
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Messages
- 2,120
Cast of Characters:
Me (DW) - late thirty something that doesn't wanta grow up, thinks Peter Pan is my ideal date, profiles as Cinderella, and a full time mother to a Disney Obsessed 9 year old child and his 13 year old sibling who gladly goes along with her younger brother's compulsion. In the corporate world, I'd be coined the Disney Event Planner. I plan everything, I pack everything, and when it comes time to disinfect the hotel room, I'm the obsessive compulsive, carrying around the container of Clorox wipes in my carry-on bag.
DH - Patient, loving, supportive, breadwinner to the Disney Obsessed son and the high maintanence DW who thinks she's Cinderella. Profiles as Aladdin, so has to put up with the fact that his DW is fantasizing about Peter Pan.
DD - She's at that uh...age
You know that one where are a way of life . The great thing about being that age is that it is the smartest you'll ever be and then you start realizing how much you really don't know as you get older. So enjoy all you know while you're still thirteen .
DS - Still in the innocence of his youth and the most obsessed of our group about Disney. He is the momentum and the cheerleader for all things Disney. Thank god we have him along, other wise we'd be compulsive lounge lizards.
Day 1:
Okay, for those of you who have ever traveled West Coast to WDW, you know the drill. Kiss your day away and hope for a good room assignment when you finally get in to Orlando. No, pray for one.... I've been worried for the past two months about getting in at 10:30 at night from a West Coast flight and finding a decent room at the other end, especially during busy season (aka Spring Break). I am ubber worried because I have to split my stay because my lodging of choice, the Dolphin, is not available for my entire stay. It is booked up the second half. So I find myself fretting most of the journey from Seattle to WDW about what the room is going to look like when we get there. Will I be sharing space with the maid in the janitor's closet with a view of a dumpster in the back of the Dolphin parking lot? Then there was this fly by night promotion that I booked on Starwood's website. Call me the compulsive queen of rebooking. I don't know how many rooms I scheduled and rescheduled... and... I log on one day and find this great room rate (I think it was 234 for a resort view room with balcony during high season) at the Dolphin under this obscure promotion called GPS? What the heck is that? I call Starwood and even the reservationist assisting me doesn't know what the GPS promo is. "Well, don't worry about it," she assures me. "You're booked with that rate. Lucky for you." Yah, lucky for me, until I envision in my over worried state that I show up to Dolphin and GPS promo rate turns out to be Grand Poohbah of Scandanavia promo rate and the dude at the front desk says "Where's your Grand Poohbah ID" and all I can produce is a
and a 
. Then I imagine the front desk clerk telling me with a dreaded and forelorn look "Sorry m'am I can't give you that GPS rate, and there are no rooms open anywhere in Orlando, because it's Spring Break , unless you are willing to stay at the Roach Coach Motel No Tell." I actually sat on the entire flight to Orlando and ran that insane possibility through me mind.
Our connection to Orlando on Southwest was in Chicago. I make my livelihood ($$$$) in the Culinary field where we are taught "When in Rome, eat what the Romans do." So I'm sitting here with a layover in Chicago, when I remember this great Food Network show about Chicago Hotdogs. I run up and down the Midway airport looking for a hotdog kiosk, and I find one. I am about to have a real life Chicago hotdog
. It seems like the wait for this hotdog is an eternity, but the bottom line is well worth it - an all beef hot dog, encased in a fluffy poppy seed roll with all sorts of condiments, melted cheese, onion, mustard, brined tomatoes, pickle, hot peppers.... I bite into the hot dog and am in sheer hot dog heaven. DH orders one of the same and remarks that this is the first hot dog he's ever had that hasn't given him major acid reflux. So if you're from Chicago and you're reading this... we love your dogs!
Well fortified on Chicago Dogs, we board the final flight of our journey, Midway to Orlando. Yeh!!!!
The baggage in Orlando seems to take an eternity. Maybe it just seems that way, because minutes are hours when you are worried about a late night check in and looking out at a dumpster. Two burly men are standing at the baggage claim waiting for their own bags and as they see me reaching for my downsized, but still ample sized suitcases, they help me pull them off the conveyor belt. Now, that's service. I almost want to flirt with them, but neither look like Peter Pan, so I give them the quick Cinderella Polite, but I'm Blowing You Off Nod, and go to wait for DH at the Arrival Sidewalk. DD helps me wheel the bags to the waiting area, and DS has gone with DH to pick out the rental car. DD has given strict instructions to DH that "I don't want you(DS) picking out the rental car this time, because last time the one you picked out was dorky (gee forbid we get embarrassed by a rental car). DH promises DD to get a cool looking rental car that won't cramp her style when we're cruising Orlando.
DD and I stand waiting for what seems another eternity. I'm thinking about my e-mail to the Dolphin for Room Preference. High Floor, Foam Pillows... uh, oh by the way, we'll be checking in really, really late, so please don't screw us over.
We pay half our pocket change in tolls on that direct toll road/tourist trap from the airport. I can't remember what the road number was, but I unloaded half my pocket change into it. Well, at least it was direct, and time is money, right?
Finally, we arrive at the Dolphin. I have never been so happy to see a place. It is 10:30 at night and the check in desk is practically deserted, except for an overly amorous couple finishing up their transaction at the front desk as they steal looks at each other (must be newlyweds). The front desk guy motions us over, and I'm holding my breath as I wait for the "I need to see your Scandanavian Poohbah ID please" request. Fortunately, the clerk goes through the transaction like clockwork. No questions asked, and whatever promotion it was, well we qualified. He hands us the keys.
We get up to the room, after what seems a long walk from the elevator. I don't care though, as long as it is a Room with A View. We go to use the key and the light flashes, red, red, red.... Oh no, this can't be happening. So DH runs back down to the front desk. A slight glitch, but they reprogram the key. The second time is the charm. Green light! The room door opens and behold. Here is my dream room at the Dolphin. I run to the doorway and pull back the curtains. Lo and behold, not only a sweeping view of the Boardwalk and Epcot in the far distance, but a nice terrace with chairs. The room is recently renovated, Heavenly Beds and all, but I pull out my precautionary Clorox Wipes and give a once over to the remote control and the tv knobs and the radio, and wipe out the drawers (which don't even look like they've been used yet). I pull the Heavenly comforter half way back on the bed. It looks spotless, but a gal can't ever be too careful. Ok, this is getting a bit anal retentive, so I put the wipes away and start unpacking the clothes. The only disappointment in the room, if there was any, is the in room coffee bar. Packets of Folgers coffee sit by the pot. Yikes! I knew I forgot something - ground beans of my favorite coffee from Seattle to drink in the room. I tell DH " Our first visit in the morning is to Tubbies for Starbucks before we hit the parks." Thank goodness for Tubbies.
Me (DW) - late thirty something that doesn't wanta grow up, thinks Peter Pan is my ideal date, profiles as Cinderella, and a full time mother to a Disney Obsessed 9 year old child and his 13 year old sibling who gladly goes along with her younger brother's compulsion. In the corporate world, I'd be coined the Disney Event Planner. I plan everything, I pack everything, and when it comes time to disinfect the hotel room, I'm the obsessive compulsive, carrying around the container of Clorox wipes in my carry-on bag.
DH - Patient, loving, supportive, breadwinner to the Disney Obsessed son and the high maintanence DW who thinks she's Cinderella. Profiles as Aladdin, so has to put up with the fact that his DW is fantasizing about Peter Pan.
DD - She's at that uh...age
You know that one where are a way of life . The great thing about being that age is that it is the smartest you'll ever be and then you start realizing how much you really don't know as you get older. So enjoy all you know while you're still thirteen . DS - Still in the innocence of his youth and the most obsessed of our group about Disney. He is the momentum and the cheerleader for all things Disney. Thank god we have him along, other wise we'd be compulsive lounge lizards.
Day 1:
Okay, for those of you who have ever traveled West Coast to WDW, you know the drill. Kiss your day away and hope for a good room assignment when you finally get in to Orlando. No, pray for one.... I've been worried for the past two months about getting in at 10:30 at night from a West Coast flight and finding a decent room at the other end, especially during busy season (aka Spring Break). I am ubber worried because I have to split my stay because my lodging of choice, the Dolphin, is not available for my entire stay. It is booked up the second half. So I find myself fretting most of the journey from Seattle to WDW about what the room is going to look like when we get there. Will I be sharing space with the maid in the janitor's closet with a view of a dumpster in the back of the Dolphin parking lot? Then there was this fly by night promotion that I booked on Starwood's website. Call me the compulsive queen of rebooking. I don't know how many rooms I scheduled and rescheduled... and... I log on one day and find this great room rate (I think it was 234 for a resort view room with balcony during high season) at the Dolphin under this obscure promotion called GPS? What the heck is that? I call Starwood and even the reservationist assisting me doesn't know what the GPS promo is. "Well, don't worry about it," she assures me. "You're booked with that rate. Lucky for you." Yah, lucky for me, until I envision in my over worried state that I show up to Dolphin and GPS promo rate turns out to be Grand Poohbah of Scandanavia promo rate and the dude at the front desk says "Where's your Grand Poohbah ID" and all I can produce is a
and a . Then I imagine the front desk clerk telling me with a dreaded and forelorn look "Sorry m'am I can't give you that GPS rate, and there are no rooms open anywhere in Orlando, because it's Spring Break , unless you are willing to stay at the Roach Coach Motel No Tell." I actually sat on the entire flight to Orlando and ran that insane possibility through me mind. Our connection to Orlando on Southwest was in Chicago. I make my livelihood ($$$$) in the Culinary field where we are taught "When in Rome, eat what the Romans do." So I'm sitting here with a layover in Chicago, when I remember this great Food Network show about Chicago Hotdogs. I run up and down the Midway airport looking for a hotdog kiosk, and I find one. I am about to have a real life Chicago hotdog
. It seems like the wait for this hotdog is an eternity, but the bottom line is well worth it - an all beef hot dog, encased in a fluffy poppy seed roll with all sorts of condiments, melted cheese, onion, mustard, brined tomatoes, pickle, hot peppers.... I bite into the hot dog and am in sheer hot dog heaven. DH orders one of the same and remarks that this is the first hot dog he's ever had that hasn't given him major acid reflux. So if you're from Chicago and you're reading this... we love your dogs! Well fortified on Chicago Dogs, we board the final flight of our journey, Midway to Orlando. Yeh!!!!
The baggage in Orlando seems to take an eternity. Maybe it just seems that way, because minutes are hours when you are worried about a late night check in and looking out at a dumpster. Two burly men are standing at the baggage claim waiting for their own bags and as they see me reaching for my downsized, but still ample sized suitcases, they help me pull them off the conveyor belt. Now, that's service. I almost want to flirt with them, but neither look like Peter Pan, so I give them the quick Cinderella Polite, but I'm Blowing You Off Nod, and go to wait for DH at the Arrival Sidewalk. DD helps me wheel the bags to the waiting area, and DS has gone with DH to pick out the rental car. DD has given strict instructions to DH that "I don't want you(DS) picking out the rental car this time, because last time the one you picked out was dorky (gee forbid we get embarrassed by a rental car). DH promises DD to get a cool looking rental car that won't cramp her style when we're cruising Orlando.
DD and I stand waiting for what seems another eternity. I'm thinking about my e-mail to the Dolphin for Room Preference. High Floor, Foam Pillows... uh, oh by the way, we'll be checking in really, really late, so please don't screw us over.
We pay half our pocket change in tolls on that direct toll road/tourist trap from the airport. I can't remember what the road number was, but I unloaded half my pocket change into it. Well, at least it was direct, and time is money, right?
Finally, we arrive at the Dolphin. I have never been so happy to see a place. It is 10:30 at night and the check in desk is practically deserted, except for an overly amorous couple finishing up their transaction at the front desk as they steal looks at each other (must be newlyweds). The front desk guy motions us over, and I'm holding my breath as I wait for the "I need to see your Scandanavian Poohbah ID please" request. Fortunately, the clerk goes through the transaction like clockwork. No questions asked, and whatever promotion it was, well we qualified. He hands us the keys.
We get up to the room, after what seems a long walk from the elevator. I don't care though, as long as it is a Room with A View. We go to use the key and the light flashes, red, red, red.... Oh no, this can't be happening. So DH runs back down to the front desk. A slight glitch, but they reprogram the key. The second time is the charm. Green light! The room door opens and behold. Here is my dream room at the Dolphin. I run to the doorway and pull back the curtains. Lo and behold, not only a sweeping view of the Boardwalk and Epcot in the far distance, but a nice terrace with chairs. The room is recently renovated, Heavenly Beds and all, but I pull out my precautionary Clorox Wipes and give a once over to the remote control and the tv knobs and the radio, and wipe out the drawers (which don't even look like they've been used yet). I pull the Heavenly comforter half way back on the bed. It looks spotless, but a gal can't ever be too careful. Ok, this is getting a bit anal retentive, so I put the wipes away and start unpacking the clothes. The only disappointment in the room, if there was any, is the in room coffee bar. Packets of Folgers coffee sit by the pot. Yikes! I knew I forgot something - ground beans of my favorite coffee from Seattle to drink in the room. I tell DH " Our first visit in the morning is to Tubbies for Starbucks before we hit the parks." Thank goodness for Tubbies.
our dogs here in Chicago!
Off to read more....
