After I wake up, I head to the hotel lobby to quake in my heels and meet the other bloggers and our Disney hostesses. My fears are for naught; everyone is so approachable and easy to talk with that I feel at ease almost immediately.
This weekend ended up being one of the most pleasant gatherings-of-women that I’ve been to, as there wasn’t any one person trying to take all the attention, be the know-it-all, or always be the leader.
Hmm. It just occurred to me that that person never realizes that they are being that way.
Oh. So then, was it me?
Nah.
We chat easily with one another, going from person to person, genuinely interested in each other. Talking with these other gals was certainly my favorite part of the entire trip. It starts this Friday evening in the lobby and continues until the airport on Sunday. We seriously do not ever stop chatting. Without kids interrupting, or men to fuss at, we talk and talk and talk.
We enjoyed visiting under a poolside gazebo with a photographer assigned to take candid photos of us. We can’t help but snicker and call him our paparazzi, but honestly, we’re more like tourists as we’re snapping more photos than he is. After this, we make our way to Italy.
Italy, as in the Italy part of Epcot. You knew that.
The Italian dinner is fabulouso. I ordered salmon after a short hesitation because I don’t know if Italy is known for its salmon. Is it? Or is it just something they stick on the menu for non-pasta people? I mean, ordering salmon in Italy – is that like my kid ordering a hamburger at the local Gulfside seafood joint? But on the menu, it is called Salmone, so I justify it by saying it just like that: sal-a-mone-ee in my best fake Italian accent when I order.
Our Italian chef insists on us staying for his desserts, even though we have an appointment in the United Kingdom for dessert. Oh, well, if he insists, we might as well accept. Sigh. While we’re eating our desserts, someone from the United Kingdom comes by and says, “The Italian desserts are good, but ours are better! Save room!”
I think every one of us takes a photo of the Italian desserts. By the end of the weekend, we are so used to fancy things that we don’t take photos of our food anymore. But tonight, we do:
The strawberry is my favorite. I’m a simple gal.
Disney people with bright red glowing light stick things lead us through the mob crowd from Italy to the United Kingdom. The tourists stare at us and after a quick look to see if we’re someone famous, definitely not, they seem to wonder why we are so all-important. I wonder the same. I want to yell to them, “Start a blog! You just never know!”
But instead, I accept my wonderful fate and follow the red glowing stick to a private area to watch Illuminations, Epcot’s light and fireworks show.
This show is my mother’s all-time favorite show on Earth, well, no she really likes the dolphins at Sea World, so it’s her second all-time favorite show on Earth, and I think of her the entire time. She would absolutely love every minute of watching Illuminations right on the lakefront in a reserved area, without any crowd, with candle-lit tables and our very own guy serving our second helping of desserts, coffee, and tea. Start a nana blog, ma. You just never know.
Sigh. There’s even a full moon.
We get three more hours to roam the park, but, honestly, we’re all too wiped out. After one ride, we head back to our pretty hotel for the night.
Next: Day Two!
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The strawberry was my favorite part of that dessert, too. And so true, by the end we stopped taking pics of the food. Well, some of us. I wish we could have taken a chef home…
Steph
Must have been funny being with a bunch of camera-snapping girls. I guess you felt less conspicuous that way and maybe people relaxed after awhile and weren’t so shy.
On another note: I saw recently that you can pay to have papparazzi follow you around and snap pics of you all night so you can experience what celebrities do. NO THANK YOU for the very stupid idea.