I speak for the Turkey for the Turkey's tongue is cooked.

This week at the happiest place on earth marked the second week that we had Mickey’s not-so-scary Halloween party. It’s also September, and 90 degrees outside. Despite all of that, we’re still partying.

When I was a kid, I remember Halloween being something that we never planned so far in advance. My mother and I would always forget about it until a friend would invite me to go trick or treating with them 3 days before the holiday and then we’d have to get creative at the thrift store. We came up with some pretty unorthodox costumes though, my favorites being a Chimney Sweep and Static Cling.

 Our trips were almost always rounded off with a hasty trip to Wegmans to get candy because apparently my mother, the efficiency expert  who micromanaged every other area of our lives, had forgotten about the hordes of children that were going to be knocking on our door soon, forcing human interact instead of her usual night time ritual. Personally, I think interrupting her would be something scarier than any haunted house I’ve ever been to, but I guess I’ve just interrupted her one too many times. It was never a holiday that was that big of a deal to us.

But here at Disney, holidays are a BIG deal. There are special parties (case and point with our Halloween party) where all the characters come out and play and there are no lines at Space Mountain that people pay top dollar for tickets to. I knew that taking this internship would mean that I would be working all the holidays. While that sucks for not being with my family, I had heard of and was excited to experience the legendary tales of the holidays, especially Christmas, at Disney.

We’re in the throes of Halloween right now, and although the party is rather capitalistic like much else at Disney, it’s a good time. Coming from a world where Halloween was only a precursor to the real holidays, I was excited to see what else was coming.  Christmas is the holiday when the world is really allowed to go over the top, and in our haste to get there, we always jump the gun. It always drove me crazy that Christmas would start in October. Never mind that it vaguely robbed Halloween of its thunder, everyone always forgot about Thanksgiving.

 (Just as a side note to how unimportant thanksgiving is, just as I was typing it I forgot to capitalize it, and autocorrect didn’t do it for me. Even Microsoft Word doesn’t care about Thanksgiving.)

Truly, I think that Thanksgiving has the nicest idea for a holiday. No matter the religious background that is basis for most of the remaining large holidays, all parents want their kids to be polite. My dad told me to say please and thank you way more often than he told me to recite the Nicene Creed. And the whole day is about saying thank you. What a nice idea- very Disney.

Therefore, I was ready, ready for the day that Thanksgiving would have its time to shine. Never mind that it would be the first time in 20 years that I wouldn’t be with my family playing Pirate Bingo. Forget that my Black Friday team was going to be in New York, and not at my side, ready to throw elbows if need be. And instead of celebrating my 21^st birthday in Chicago with my friends and a built in designated driver in the CTA, I was going to be pouring beer for other people. It was all okay because I was finally going to see Thanksgiving being appreciated.

So imagine my disappointment when I learned that we go seamlessly from Halloween into Christmas. In fact, we set up for Christmas while the Halloween decorations are still up. For a Cast Member that is privy to seeing all of these secret overlapping things, I finally know how A Nightmare Before Christmas was made. Apparently the author saw this transition and got inspired instead of pissed. Maybe someday this will happen to me. But that day is not today.

I may have my soul owned by Disney, but I am going to take a stand! I will be saying Happy Thanksgiving the whole month of November, not just the day of. Really, it’s one of the few holidays that it’s politically correct to specifically wish people well on. Not happy Holidays, Happy Thanksgiving, damnit! I’m going to sing songs about Turkey and Pilgrims and if there are none, then I will make some!

It’s time that the world stopped treating Thanksgiving as the red-headed stepchild of the holiday world. It has feelings too and all it wants is to be noticed. We have a month to prepare people. I ask you all to join me. Think about how you would feel if you were Thanksgiving, and sing a damn turkey carol when you flip your calendar page to November. It’s ours to take back, if we are ready for the challenge.

Home is where your rump rests?

                If someone was to ask you what makes a home, what would you say? Most people don’t say themselves. It’s the biggest lie that we tell ourselves. How many times have we written off a relationship, saying we were better off alone? Do you think that people really believe that? That when people are truly alone, they are most at home? Do you believe it when you tell yourself that? I don’t believe that home is a solitary idea.

                Some people work their asses off in college and then in the soul sucking corporate world to make themselves their dream home. When all of the money that they’ve worked so hard for finally comes into something tangible, is that all they really need? Does a home really come down to a pile of bricks artfully arranged?

Or is it something more? There’s a reason that love songs dominate the radio. There’s a reason that there’s never a dry eye when Mufasa dies in the Lion King. And there’s a reason that so much of what we learn in school is how to interact with each other. McFly says that home is where the heart is. And what you keep in your heart most likely isn’t the address of your perfect house, or how much you love yourself unilaterally. What you hold closest to you are the people in your life.

So what do you have when your people aren’t there? What do you call home? Right now, my people are home.  They are in Chicago and New York, respectively. And yet somehow, I’ve found myself in Florida.

I’m not sure when I’ll learn that I am not enough. That the possibility of a professional advance isn’t worth feeling lonely for 5 months. That is not easy to find people, and to never let the ones go that you have found. I don’t think that other people should be the reason that you do things. But I have also learned that if you do things thinking that all you need is yourself, you’re going to be lonely a lot of the time.

Learn from your mistakes. With growing up comes choices, and sometimes you don’t make the right ones. This program is case and point. I know that for some people this program is the perfect fit. But like Abercrombie’s jeans, this will never fit me properly. I’m here to stay because I’ll be 21 in 2 months. It’s time that I started to live with my choices. I need to make the best of my time here, however that looks.

 But I’m also old enough that I think it’s time to shelve my pride. I am not enough for me, and that’s okay to admit. I was lucky enough to find all of you, and I want you all to know that I know how important you are now. I can’t promise you that I won’t ever leave again. That’s not me. Realizing that my roots run deeper than I previously knew doesn’t mean that my sense of adventure and curiosity is squelched. But I can promise you this…

 I will always come back to you.

Taste the rainbow....but not at Disney.

Disney is all about the ‘show’. We ‘cast members’ are scrutinized for every last detail about having a ‘good show’.  No tattoos (my feet haven’t seen the light of day in a month), no piercings (my ears aren’t speaking to me, they feel abandoned) and no hair coloring (my hair literally makes me yawn now), but all of these things I can understand. We are a wholesome, timeless family company, and guests don’t love Mohawks as much as one might think. Fine.  We are always overly respectful, and treat every guest like family. Even the lingo! Guests, not customers. Cast members, not employees. There are signs everywhere that remind us that once we come out from our secret tunnels or back areas, we are ‘onstage’. All of these things combined with a million more are what makes Disney so popular. We go above and beyond to make sure our guests feel at home, something I can honestly respect as a business practice. Alas though, there are some things that they do that don’t seem in keeping with this goal.

For a company that is so meticulous with most things, there are some things I wish they thought through more. They make sure we look as awful as possible by making sure our shirts are tucked in, convinced that an untucked shirt could be enough to do a guest in. Honestly, Disney, no one looks better with their shirts tucked in, except European boys with good butts. Make them tuck theirs in, give them a neon sign, and then cut your losses and let everyone else have some breathing room. They make sure that we are practiced in doing the Disney scoop and the Disney point, subliminal signs that guests probably don’t notice outright, but overall add to the comfort of their stay, allegedly. But the main thing that I don’t understand, something that was a major oversight of Disney’s, was their lack of sprinkles.

There’s nothing better than ice cream, except maybe an ice cream cone with sprinkles. Since I was a kid, that’s been my order. Twist in a cone with rainbow sprinkles. I’m twenty years old now, and that’s still one of my favorite things about summer. When asked what my ideal date would be, it always ends with ice cream, and you’d better believe there would be sprinkles on that cone. It could be a night with my prince charming himself, but in order for it to be that perfect night that girls always dream about, there would need to be some jimmies. Hands down the best part of my job is when I hand an ice cream cone to a kid and their eyes light up. The happiest place on earth was made a little better with a little help from the dairy group.

But when asked if I have sprinkles, I have to tell them no. And because it’s Disney, and customer satisfaction is our number one goal, we have to make up a story. I have immense respect for Walt Disney. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And when I have to tell a guest that we don’t have sprinkles because Walt didn’t like them, I have to avert my eyes. I don’t believe this lie and I don’t want to have to tell guests that. I don’t want their image of Walt tarnished. Because believe me, if I heard that, that would effectively end our love affair. Disney, how many customers do you think you lose from people so outraged by your lack of sprinkles? And then you blame Walt? Low blow.

Here is my plea, Disney. Let me untuck my shirt, and GET SOME DAMN SPRINKLES!