Abandoned

Our family had a lake house in Twin Lakes, Wisconsin. We practically lived at the lake house each summer and spent most of our days fishing, skiing, tubing, and swimming in Lake Elizabeth. One weekend, my parents had invited some friends (and their three children) to stay for a couple of days. We had all been out on the boat for an entire day when my dad realized we needed to refuel.

Lake Elizabeth has a gas station right on the pier so that you can pull up and fill up without leaving the boat. I stepped out of the boat onto the pier and quickly ran to the bathroom inside the building while my dad refueled.
When I stepped back outside, I looked toward the water to see our boat speeding away from the pier. My worst nightmare had come true. I felt helpless. I had to think quickly. I ran to the end of the pier and started shouting, "Mom! Dad! Come back!" As a seven year-old, it seemed like the only logical thing to do.

I suddenly looked to my left and, as if they were my guardian angels, an elderly couple started shouting toward the water and waving their hands in the air to grab my family's attention. My parents were already out of sight when my mother counted heads and realized that I was missing. Terrified, they turned around and returned to the pier to find me traumatized in the arms of my new elderly friends.

Apparently we were told to stay in the boat. I must not have heard those directions.

For years afterwards, I couldn't trust my parents. I felt as if they would leave me in strange places. It got so bad that when I went into a public restroom, I made my mother stand on the outside of the stall door with her nose pressed against it so that I could see her feet. This visual would reassure me that she wasn't going anywhere. She said that she received many stares from other women in the restroom. Now that's love.

Scary Sleeper

When I'm asleep, I'm known to do strange things. One morning, I had woken up inside my closet; another time I walked right out the front door while fast asleep.

Just recently, I was disturbed to find that my awkward sleeping habits still plague me. I woke up last night, around 3 a.m., to discover that I was cuddling my stereo. Apparently I had unplugged the speakers, placed the stereo on top of the bed, and wrapped my arms around it before falling back to sleep again. I guess I even had time to disconnect the wires. The scary thing is that I don't remember any of it. Would anyone like to try and analyze this one?

The Great Movie Ride

If you know me well, you know that I can slip into a "laugh attack" rather easily. At which point, I have a difficult time controlling my laughter. Usually it gets so bad, that I'm perceived as rude in certain settings...but I just can't help it!!!!

For some reason, we chose to ride "The Great Movie Ride" at MGM Studios. It was the lamest thing I've ever witnessed. There were scary mannequins and singing puppets from outdated movies. Worst of all was our tour guide, Jessica. Jessica couldn't have been more than 19 years old and 95 lbs. I would guess that she was an aspiring actress because she delivered all of her scripted lines with too much enthusiasm and facial expression.

"Good Afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the Great American Movie Ride. You couldn't have asked for a better guide because...well...I love movies (giggle)!"

Barf.

She led us through scary mannequins with marionette-type mouths. Towards the end of our journey, we entered Oz. Jessica was excited to tell us all about the Wicked Witch and the munchkins. On cue, the mechanical munchkins peered out from hiding and began singing "Follow the Yellow Brick Road." Their faces were disturbing and somewhat scary.

When the song ended, Jessica began to look uncomfortable. Something was apparently wrong.

"Um...folks. Let me tell you more about the munchkins. All of the munchkins, except for the coroner, are now dead."

It was obvious Jessica was trying to stall and divert our attention. The boy sitting in front of us began to cry. This ride had become torturous and it was now clear that it had broken down and we were stuck.

"Folks, Maintenance should be here any minute. Hopefully they can fix the problem."

Jessica felt helpless. Looking around me at the scary munchkin faces, Jessica's look of discomfort, and the tearful third grader, I couldn't help but bust out laughing. My shoulders began to shake. I put all of my effort into muting my laughter, but it tended to leak out every once in awhile.

Minutes later (although it felt longer), the maintenance man emerged from "Oz," pressed a few buttons and we were on our way again.

My laughter didn't cease.

As we approached the exit, I wanted to gag as Jessica recited her final lines:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have now reached the end of The Great Movie Ride. When I say 'ACTION,' Don't forget to applaud for your favorite star of the show--ME........Action!"

I couldn't get off of the ride fast enough.

Although this photo is horribly blurry, you can see the maintenance man (on the ground to the left) attempting to repair the ride as Jessica (in the red beret and suspenders) looks on in despair. The photo is blurry because we weren't allowed to take photos, so this was taken without a flash.

Security Threat

My best friend offered to use her own frequent flyer miles so that I could visit her in Phoenix, Arizona one spring. I was looking forward to a relaxing spring vacation. She had reserved my ticket at the airline counter. When I approached the woman working behind the desk and told her my name, she informed me that nothing had been reserved under my name. I began to panic, knowing that my flight would be leaving in a matter of minutes. We finally figured out the mistake. Although I had already been married for a year, my friend had accidentally reserved my airline ticket under my maiden name. Luckily, I had my passport with me (which still had my former name on it).

The trip was quite enjoyable. When it came time to return home, Nicole dropped me off at the curb of the Phoenix Airport. Since I was flying Southwest Airlines, I was forced to stand in line with the hundreds of other passengers waiting to claim a seat. The wait was getting long and I soon grew tired of standing. With my backpack strapped to me, I leaned against the glass wall behind me.

As I slowly leaned to rest, the loudest alarm began to sound. I looked around to see what the commotion was all about. Since it had been only a matter of months since the September 11th attacks, all passengers in the airport were already walking on eggshells. Where was the security breach? My worst nightmare came true when I instantly saw hundreds of strange faces staring at ME!

I turned around to see that I had leaned against the glass door leading to the tarmac. The door was clearly labeled, "ALARM WILL SOUND." An awkward smile came across my face and I tried to use body language to communicate to the fearful passengers that I was innocent. Apparently it wasn't enough.

The Airport Security and Phoenix Police approached me and asked to speak with me in private. They pulled me aside and asked to see my boarding pass and driver's license. Trying to look calm, I pulled both from my backpack and handed them over. Looks of confusion covered their faces as if they were given a puzzle to solve. I had forgotten that my boarding pass was under my maiden name and my driver's license read my married last name. The inconsistencies in my identity did not play in my favor.

After explaining to them that I was just a clueless traveler who had accidentally sounded the alarm, they decided to let me go. They explained to me that the plane had waited for me. I was thrilled, thinking I had missed my opportunity to get home at my scheduled arrival time.

Soon after, I realized that it would have been better to take the next flight. All of the passengers had already boarded, which left the last seat of the plane for me. I had to walk down the aisle as all eyes watched me. I heard whispers...

"Is that the terrorist?"
"She looks harmless to me."
"Should we be worried?"

I now refer to that long walk down the aisle as my "Walk of Shame." I quietly sat down and reached for my Pocket Yahtzee inside my backpack. The woman across the aisle from me watched my every move and literally stared at me the whole flight home.

I make a lousy terrorist.

Fist Fight

So, from what I've gathered, Disney World is supposed to be the happiest place on earth, right? Not the case. For the most part, the "Disney Experience" was pleasant as long as you don't factor in the bratty children who displayed ungratefulness or the numerous adults wearing Mickey Mouse ears. Despite all of this, there was a group of middle-aged women who decided that they apparently owned the park.

Let me explain...
We had just gotten in line for the "MGM Backlot Tour." It began with a water spectacle in which they used fire and special effects to create an air attack. We stood and watched as two teenage Disney employees explained to us how they create such a spectacle in the movies. Afterwards, we were directed to move along and board a tram for the remainder of the tour. As three lines merged into one, we heard a nasty voice yell out, "Who do you think you are? What kind of person steps in front of a wheelchair?" I turned to see who was screaming and noticed that it was a woman yelling at my sister and her husband. Craig turned around and replied, "I'm sorry...I would never do something like that intentionally."

His answer obviously didn't satisfy her. She continued to rant and rave and swear at the two. At this point, I couldn't stand by and not defend them. I explained to the woman, "Why would you talk to someone like that? They obviously didn't get in your way on purpose. When hundreds of people stand in a line, it is going to get crowded." To which she responded, "You are a B*#%@&!" I decided to ignore her and continued moving in line.

The woman sitting in the wheelchair was somewhat embarrassed by her friend's reaction, asking her to settle down. The three women were overweight, which is why I think the one was sitting in a wheelchair, the other one was using a cane. I was shocked that these women thought they could take us on.

As we proceeded toward the tram, I thought the feud had ended. The woman began ramming her friend's wheelchair into Craig's ankles and then Sarah's. They quietly moved aside, which then left my ankles as bait. The woman began to run the wheelchair into my ankles. After 3-4 hits, I turned around and asked/yelled, "Would you please stop ramming your wheelchair into my ankles?" At the same time, I grabbed hold of the wheelchair armrest to ensure that it wouldn't hit me from the front as well. At this point, Ms. Cheerful began shouting, "Let go of that wheelchair! You better let go or I'll call Security!" To which I asked, "Would you please call Security so that I can report you?" I really thought she was about to throw a punch at me.

The third woman (the one with the cane) eventually moved forward in line and placed herself between me and the wheelchair. As we continued on in line, my "buddy" continued to shout, "I'm reporting you! I'm going to kick your a$@!" I couldn't keep from laughing, but ignored her as much as I could. It all seemed surreal. When we finally had the chance to board the tram, I heard the woman complaining about me to one of the ride operators. They didn't seem to care at all. In the end, I looked back to see the woman in the wheelchair stand up and walk perfectly to the front of the ride. Perhaps she was healed miraculously?!?

Here is a photo of poor Craig's ankle. I'm keeping it as evidence should the Disney Police ever come knocking on my door....