Manfriends have come and gone today. We're STILL drying out. Probably by tomorrow we'll be good to go. The fans are now "officially" driving me crazy. Beth has taken on the huge morning responsibility of turning on all the upstairs ones when we wake up. We cannot sleep with them on. It's like the roar of jet-engines. My mother called. Said the cat seems MUCH happier at her place. And that she's taking it to her friend's kennel to get her nails trimmed and her fur PROPERLY brushed. 'Cause I NEGLECT the cat. Apparently. I don't know WHAT she's talking about... the cat's had swimming lessons for goodness sake! She also mentioned in her five minute conversation that this flood is probably all my fault. Twice. Ok. Here we go:
Part 38
Day 6, Dec 16: We've all disembarked from the Friendship and are wandering up the dock and path to the doors of the Yacht Club. Beth is chasing Calvin at this point. With mad eyes. Her arms are waving and she's yelling. He lets her catch him. She begins shaking and strangling. That's were I draw the line. The strangling was too much for me. It's such an "un-Disneylike" spectacle. I tell Beth to relax. So does DH. I tell Calvin that I'd like a little word with him. The rest of the happyhaunts continue into the lobby of the Yacht Club. It goes this way:
Me: Calvin! Just to warn you... I'm rethinking my position on eating my own donut baby. And, in addition, I'm pretty darn hungry right now.
Calvin: What are you saying?
Me: I'm saying please CHILL... NOW! I'm serious Calvin.
Calvin: How can you just flip flop like that?
Me: Pardon?
Calvin: How can you tell me that you wouldn't eat your donut baby and then say you're thinking about it now?
Me: These are extreme circumstances. You're making the evening unbearable. For everyone. You have a bad attitude. Your own sister wants to choke you. Eating you may be my only recourse. Capish?
Calvin: Ha, ha, ha! I don't believe you, Mom.
Me: But why not?
Calvin: 'Cause you don't really like donuts. 'Cause you had that job when you were in school.
Sigh. Double sigh. He's right. He wins. Yeah... he wins a trip to the booming metropolis of Welland, Ontario. For two nights... and five days. But... I DON'T eat donuts anymore. I worked in a donut shop one summer when I was in University. I was pretty broke. My diet consisted almost entirely of beer and free donuts for four months. Bear bait. For the hunters out there. Bear bait in a ponytail and Daisy Dukes. Amazingly, I DID NOT gain any weight. Which is what happens to you when your body is so starved for nutrients that it begins to consume its own tissues. I actually started fearing that I'd lose my teeth in the bathroom sink. Plink. Plink. Plink. So I bought some vitamins. And carrots. Anyway. We head into the Yacht Club Lobby to meet up with the others. Beth is still hot under the collar and tells Calvin that she hates him AND if... IF... she EVER decides to get married one day. He's not invited. SO THERE. I decide to break away from the pleasurable moment and check out the Yacht Club for myself. We had never seen the inside of it before. Wow. Nice. Very. Much nicer than the Beach Club and BCV. It's MANLY... yes, but I like it too! Oh. Wasn't that a commercial from the seventies? Yep. But... I do have masculine tastes. I like dark primary colours, leather, dark woods etc. Straight lines in decorating much better than curves. Maybe I'm a man-girl? 'Cause I ALSO enjoy bathroom humour, I can burp real loud, swear a blue-streak, fish better than DH and I LOVE the violence in that great movie they call "Gladiator". Especially the scene where Maximus (Russell Crowe) cuts some guy's head clean off with double swords. Pop. GREAT MOVIE! One of my favourites. (And, NO, the three kidlets are NOT allowed to watch it!) Plus... I also like it for a hundred other reasons than the violence. On the other hand, I similarily adore soft sweaters, kittens, puppies, babies, getting my nails done, the music of Sarah McLachlan and the Indigo Girls and kick a** high-heeled boots. I guess I'm not a man afterall. Perhaps just a "metrosexual" guy-girl. SO. I go and check out the menu for the Yacht Club Galley, Calvin flips the bird to the room, we order, we eat and Calvin calls DH a pervert. (And, if THIS is distressing anyone... you should get the whole story in my dining and restaurant reviews.) Then we hurry back to our WDW home at the BCV and kick Calvin's crotchety carcass into the rack for the night. And DH and I practice a little "dental surgery" out in the relative privacy of our balcony overlooking THE WORLD.
To be continued...