happy thanksgivin’, y’all

Lordt, y’all. We are home and I’m happy to be back on my couch with my laptop and a vodka tonic finishing up this entry. I survived yet another “fun” theme park based trip; this one to Universal Studios, FL. I will say this, if you or your kid(s) are fans of Harry Potter, this is one you’ll have to suck up and do. I was actually impressed. That says a lot. Alas, I’m not here to post how great our trip was; I’m here to give all the negative points and to complain. #imnotforeveryoneyall

In keeping with tradition, this should’ve been the 5th annual Team Muehe/Team Allen Thanksgiving. However, COVID and Cuomo make for travel to New York rather difficult. When we sorted that NY wasn’t doable, we looked at a trip to … wait for it … Colorado. <eye roll>  Fortunately, Steamboat Springs claimed there was “no snow” and closed the resort we were planning to stay at so we had to regroup. I call BS. The granolas just don’t want us tourists from TX bringing our COVID numbers up north. Either way, I was thankful that we didn’t go to CO; otherwise, this would a drunken fireside post. Let’s face it, skiing was a “one and done” experience for me (see post from December 2018). So, a few texts with Leigh Salsbury later and we were booked for Thanksgiving week at Universal in Orlando. (Y’all thought I was gonna say Disney, huh)? Side note: I, in no way, hold Leigh responsible for my misery. After all, I find misery in all things.

I’m not sure who decided we were driving to FL or why I agreed but I can promise that this was my last car trip to Orlando. We were up and out by 4 A for a miserable day of driving I-10 East. From now on, Southwest Airlines, take my money! And, seriously, Louisiana. What do y’all spend your DOT funds on? It obviously ain’t on your portion of I-10. Damn.

I have learned, over time, that I *am* a basic bitch. Like straight up; I own it. I don’t wanna travel. I’m a homebody and I’ve become quite the introverted creature of habit in my old age. I need *my* coffee. Not shit coffee that’ll put hair on your chest and send you running for the loo. My coffee. With my creamer. I *need* a bath towel that actually wraps around my fatass and a separate towel for my hair. I *need* water pressure; not water spit from a shower-head designed and placed for my vertically challenged friends. I *need* a shower that drains – not one that leaves me standing in my own filth. I *need* my shampoo and my conditioner and my shower soap. I *need* my king sized bed and my body pillow and my ceiling fan (Coty is a bed hog, y’all). I *need* my own toilet (not one I share with three other people) and my own brand of TP. Why even offer singly ply? I’ll just use three times as much! I *need* my carbonated water, made at home with my Soda Stream, with fresh lemon juice. I *need* my clothes (all of them) with me at all times – I always manage to pack the wrong shit – and they need to be where they’re meant to be, not in a GD suitcase. If that makes me high maintenance, so be it. #callmekaren

If you have food allergies, you can relate to this next bit. If not, skip this paragraph. Or, if you wanna read yet another GF rant, trek on. I will have to give Disney props: they can accommodate us weirdos with celiac. Plus, they publish everything making it easy to determine where it’s safe to eat and where it’s not. They go an extra step and actually publish the gluten free menus. Dear Universal Studios, pull your heads out of your asses. The best you can offer is a nasty-ass GF bun that’s nearly inedible? Oh, I forgot: they offer turkey legs and fresh fruit. Don’t worry. I stayed on *my* liquid diet while I was away. #vodkatonicforthewin

Having to wear a face covering at all times just plain sucks. Don’t come for me on this. It is on my list of things I won’t discuss at the Thanksgiving dinner table: politics, religion, and masks. I don’t agree with them and I don’t think they help/work enough. It’s not that I don’t “care” about the health and safety of others or that I won’t be compliant. My face hasn’t fully recovered. I’ll have a serious case of the adult acne for the next week. And, having to smell my own breath inside my mask is enough to keep me quiet. Maybe that was the intent?

Having to use hand sanitizer all day long sucks, too. About to eat? Don’t forget hand sanitizer. Just ate? Here’s some hand sanitizer. Headed to the cue to wait to ride the attraction? Here’s some hand sanitizer. Just put your shit into a locker? Here’s some hand sanitizer. About to get on the ride? Here’s some hand sanitizer. Just come off the ride? Here, have some more fucking hand sanitizer. If the alcohol in it would absorb directly into my blood stream, I wouldn’t complain – err – I’d complain slightly less. The problem with hand sanitizer is that it doesn’t all absorb or evaporate. When I could finally wash my hands, it was literally caked on. I had to wash three times (which I did, sans complaint). Universal Studios took it a step further: the product they used was presented in clear plastic bottles with a white label that read “hand sanitizer” in Times New Roman. Shady af. I’m surprised I lived to tell the story.

Some of the guests at Universal Studios were taking the social distancing seriously. That’s fine. Good for you. But, it’s 6 feet, not 60. Don’t be so fucking extra. I felt for the poor bastards that were trying to post accurate wait times. If you are so worried about being too close to others during the pandemic, then what the HELL are you doing at a crowded theme park? While standing in line 60 ft from the party in front of me, I overheard a lady tell an employee, “thank you for your service”. The kid was literally doing her job and wiping the handrails. WTAF? Did she say that to all the employees that were distributing hand sanitizer?

Y’all may not have noticed, but I am quite the Judgmental Judy. I criticize anyone and everyone. Like, I’m just that way.  It’s not that I think I’m better. I’m not. It’s not because I’m racist; I hate everyone equally. It’s just me. <shoulder shrug>  Well, theme parks are a breeding ground for freaks; there are sooo many people to make fun of! I find myself thinking, and often saying aloud under my breath, things like:

“all the clothes in your closet and you opted to wear that?”

“I know you think you look good but you don’t”

“have you ever actually done yoga or do you just wear the pants?”

“Lawd, when did you last wash that head?”

“your kid doesn’t need a leash, he needs a spankin’!”

“Hang up and walk, asshat”

“The 80s called and they want their mullet back”

“your mom must be so proud”

I have bruises on my arms from being smacked by Coty and told to shut it. Bitch, please. I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. #coverthatshitup

And, don’t get me started about the Christmas carols, before Thanksgiving, on repeat! I can tolerate some songs but others make me wanna rupture my own eardrums so that I’ll no longer be subjected to them. Do you know that there’s a grown ass man that recorded, “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth”? WTF, son? You from Mississippi or something? Get yourself some implants and find another classic to ruin. The Jackson 5 Christmas album needs to die. If I have to listen to young Michael singing about how he saw his mommy kissing Santa Claus, Rudolph, or Frosty the Snowman again, I may hurt someone. Don’t come for me on this, either. Michael grew into his own talent but was lacking that shit on their early Christmas album. Lastly, “Linus & Lucy”, “My Favorite Things”, and “Hallelujah” are NOT Christmas songs! (Come for me on this. I’m happy to prove you wrong). I reminded Coty of such every. single. time. I heard those damn songs. He was so appreciative.

Lastly, I’ll close with a bit of good news (for y’all, anyways): we are travelling after Christmas, too. Yay.