LSPoorEeyorick
11-13-2006, 12:57 PM
I found myself in the posession of a return houseguest, so to speak-- Flat Stanley, who I had previously entertained three years ago when my niece had her geography project. Perhaps you've either seen the children's book or someone else carrying around a crayon-colored paper doll. Basically, students are asked to send their own Flat Stanley to a family member or friend in another city; said fam/friend takes Stanley on a tour of that city and sends him back with photos and a letter detailing what Stanley has done.
This time around, my other niece (the first one's little sister) sent us her Stanley, and we made big plans, part of which involved us running down to Disneyland for a few hours yesterday to snap pictures with our flat pal.
When I did this three years ago, I found a plethora of costumed characters who were happy and willing to participate. Ariel had said: "Stanley! It's so nice to see you again!" Stitch, that little troublemaker, used Stanley to pick his nose. The bears from Brother Bear attempted to eat Stanley. You get the picture: it was fun.
Yesterday, fun wasn't even part of the equation.
As we first stepped into the park--and this is at nine AM on a Sunday morning, so it's not like it's an off hour--there were only two characters in the Main Street area. We waited in line for one (Pluto) and by the time we were done, the other (Goofy) had already left. We stood around waiting for a half an hour for more to come out, and all we got was Cruella Deville, who seemed uninterested. When Chip and Eeyore finally came out, they refused to interact with me, even once they landed at their 'place.' You all know me-- I'm not a b*tch, I'm not even particularly grumpy. There was no shoving of children or anything. But they just wouldn't acknowledge me.
So we gave up and decided to move toward the castle in search of some princesses. We're informed that they're not there anymore. In fact, they're not ANYWHERE anymore, except for the Princess Fantasy Faire. So we headed up to the old 'wonderbra' arena. Where we met a heavily populated wrapping line. "OK," we thought. "It's just a line. Lines move."
Except that this one didn't. Hardly at all. The whole 'benefit' of the Princess Fantasy Faire is that each little girl gets time to interact with three different princesses. That's a lovely idea, in theory. But since it's the only location for princess in the ENTIRE PARK, you have no choice but to stand in line for all three. So we, dutiful and loving aunt and uncle, queued up.
For the first hour it was just boring. At about seventy minutes, it got interesting when the four-year-old behind me thought it was a good idea to punch me in the @ss, and we got to spend a portion of our pent-up frustration energy discussing the parent, who, having observed her daughter hitting me, had the following conversation with her:
MOTHER
(laughing)
People aren't for hitting. What do you say?
DAUGHTER
I didn't.
MOTHER
(laughing)
What was it, a love tap?
And that's all. So I say, audibly so the mother can hear me, "Gee, if I had hit an adult stranger when I was little, my mother would have taken me out of the line and I would have gotten a stern talking-to and a time out."
At this point, we had gotten to the last turn of the to-and-fro line, and we were looking forward to getting in and getting the hell out of the princess section. When... what's that? It's music. Coming from the princess show behind us. And... what's going on? The line isn't moving. At all. Anymore.
That's right. The princesses who sign autographs in the line go up on stage for the show, leaving the very long line of frustrated parents and sobbing (and violent) children to wait until the princesses finish their song and dance.
In the end, we waited an HOUR and a HALF to see Aurora, Jasmine, and Cinderella. And none of them were particularly interested in us, because we, of course, were not children. We were just doing a school project for a child who is very important to us.
Now, don't get me wrong-- I LOVE doing this project, especially because it gives my wee family members some little extra TLC. Plus we have to go act like tourists, which we're often too busy to do.
But this time, it was such an ordeal to get anyone to help us, it made things extremely frustrating. I got about half the amount of pictures this time as I had three years ago, and it took me three times as long to get what I got. And what I got was incredibly uninteresting; no fun poses, no cute conversations. Just pictures of vaguely bored actors in Disney garb holding Marissa's paper doll.
Poor Marissa. When did the fuzzies and the faces become so difficult to get to-- and uninteresting once we did?
This time around, my other niece (the first one's little sister) sent us her Stanley, and we made big plans, part of which involved us running down to Disneyland for a few hours yesterday to snap pictures with our flat pal.
When I did this three years ago, I found a plethora of costumed characters who were happy and willing to participate. Ariel had said: "Stanley! It's so nice to see you again!" Stitch, that little troublemaker, used Stanley to pick his nose. The bears from Brother Bear attempted to eat Stanley. You get the picture: it was fun.
Yesterday, fun wasn't even part of the equation.
As we first stepped into the park--and this is at nine AM on a Sunday morning, so it's not like it's an off hour--there were only two characters in the Main Street area. We waited in line for one (Pluto) and by the time we were done, the other (Goofy) had already left. We stood around waiting for a half an hour for more to come out, and all we got was Cruella Deville, who seemed uninterested. When Chip and Eeyore finally came out, they refused to interact with me, even once they landed at their 'place.' You all know me-- I'm not a b*tch, I'm not even particularly grumpy. There was no shoving of children or anything. But they just wouldn't acknowledge me.
So we gave up and decided to move toward the castle in search of some princesses. We're informed that they're not there anymore. In fact, they're not ANYWHERE anymore, except for the Princess Fantasy Faire. So we headed up to the old 'wonderbra' arena. Where we met a heavily populated wrapping line. "OK," we thought. "It's just a line. Lines move."
Except that this one didn't. Hardly at all. The whole 'benefit' of the Princess Fantasy Faire is that each little girl gets time to interact with three different princesses. That's a lovely idea, in theory. But since it's the only location for princess in the ENTIRE PARK, you have no choice but to stand in line for all three. So we, dutiful and loving aunt and uncle, queued up.
For the first hour it was just boring. At about seventy minutes, it got interesting when the four-year-old behind me thought it was a good idea to punch me in the @ss, and we got to spend a portion of our pent-up frustration energy discussing the parent, who, having observed her daughter hitting me, had the following conversation with her:
MOTHER
(laughing)
People aren't for hitting. What do you say?
DAUGHTER
I didn't.
MOTHER
(laughing)
What was it, a love tap?
And that's all. So I say, audibly so the mother can hear me, "Gee, if I had hit an adult stranger when I was little, my mother would have taken me out of the line and I would have gotten a stern talking-to and a time out."
At this point, we had gotten to the last turn of the to-and-fro line, and we were looking forward to getting in and getting the hell out of the princess section. When... what's that? It's music. Coming from the princess show behind us. And... what's going on? The line isn't moving. At all. Anymore.
That's right. The princesses who sign autographs in the line go up on stage for the show, leaving the very long line of frustrated parents and sobbing (and violent) children to wait until the princesses finish their song and dance.
In the end, we waited an HOUR and a HALF to see Aurora, Jasmine, and Cinderella. And none of them were particularly interested in us, because we, of course, were not children. We were just doing a school project for a child who is very important to us.
Now, don't get me wrong-- I LOVE doing this project, especially because it gives my wee family members some little extra TLC. Plus we have to go act like tourists, which we're often too busy to do.
But this time, it was such an ordeal to get anyone to help us, it made things extremely frustrating. I got about half the amount of pictures this time as I had three years ago, and it took me three times as long to get what I got. And what I got was incredibly uninteresting; no fun poses, no cute conversations. Just pictures of vaguely bored actors in Disney garb holding Marissa's paper doll.
Poor Marissa. When did the fuzzies and the faces become so difficult to get to-- and uninteresting once we did?