Hotel Amenities

Yes, we are in Anaheim, my two girlfriends and our three teenage daughters.  The girls are attending the Revolve Tour and got to meet Hawk Nelson last night (a Christian rock band from Canada).  They were thrilled.  Forty-five minutes of their five hours in California Adventures yesterday was spent helping three-year-old Mason find his mom and dad.  Talk about horror at Disney for that poor family.  The girls said the mom was hysterically crying…. as expected.  Anyway, it all turned out, fortunately.  Our girls found security and reported the kid’s name…. that was thankfully sewn on the back of his Mickey Mouse ears.

On to hotel amenities….  one of the choice amenities this establishment has to offer, as is expected these days, is HIGH speed Internet.  Well, this is a farce.  There ain’t nothin’ highspeedy about this connection.  I’ve typed this blog up until now and my email page still hasn’t loaded…. good grief.  And there should be an international thickness regulator for oatmeal.  Good grief, again.  This stuff was like weak soup with the occasional oat flake.  Being that I’m with two of the pickiest eaters on God’s green earth, the management was notified of the oversight on the breaky buffet, but alas, this morning there was not much of an improvement. We can’t complain, though.  The room is decent…. minus the few bugs that we’ve located and killed.  The location is KEY, which is why we picked this place. 

And a special bonus for us… there is a “Gamers” convention going on across the street.  So, needless to say, if you’re not wearing black, you’re so not cool.  We’re not cool.  We keep wondering what in the world they do at a gamers convention?  Play games?  Watch video clips of how to beat the latest games???  Meet people dressed up like the mythical characters in the make-believe video games???  They’re here.  We’ve seen them.  Makes me wonder.

OH!  Yesterday Jill dragged us through Mexico City, right here in Anaheim.  It is the oldest indoor swap meet in the world, or so they say.  We did purchase some unique items for those we love, as well as taking cell phone pictures of lizards on skulls, wacky sunglasses and the general folklore that surrounds Mexico… right here in the good ol’ USA.

We dropped the girls off this morning and we’re off to the beach.  Wooo HOooo.  This is just like Thelma and Louise on their vacation: carefree,  wonderful, and the beach.  Oh to feel the sand between my freezing toes. 

BAGS end tonight!  www.bagsforzaza.blogspot.com

The Torture Chamber

Yes, it was the Torture Chamber, where Mr Popper’s Penguins (in audio form) was forced on my children during their confinement in the family minivan on the way home from Tahoe yesterday.  You would’ve thought we were pulling out their fingernails one by one.  They asked for Hawk Nelson, a Canadian band that does play semi-decent music even in my old-person’s opinion, but I said, “NO!”  And out of the cd case came Mr. Popper followed by sighs, grunts, groans, pishaws and corresponding eye rolling. 

The chanting began in the back of the van, but thanks to quality factory installed speakers, they could not out-shout Mr. Popper.  Everytime they yelled and interrupted Mr. Popper, my husband, who is a closet-literary-buff (OK, stop laughing) would start the cd over.  My children are quick studies.  It only took them five or six times to stop the barrage of noise.

Finally after chapter one, I paused the intellectually stimulating penguin story and informed my three homeschooled offspring that there would indeed be a quiz before dinner.  Flunkers would not be eating.  Amazing how the stupid penguin story got very interesting after that.  I asked really hard questions like “What is the Popper’s address?” and “Who was the admiral on the radio broadcast?” There was much cheating behind me, due to my children sincerely feeling empathy for a sibling who might go hungry.  Coughs with the answer embedded and barely audible whispers were detected.  Being full of grace and mercy, just like our Lord, I gave them all two chances and their answers proved they actually were listening. (One point for Mom and Mr. Popper.)

Funny thing was, the cd started skipping.  I LOATHE library cds that skip.  But that’s just another one of my shortcomings that don’t need mention here.  As the full length story was considerably shortened, Rick told the kids to be thankful it was Mr. Popper’s speed reading day.  Ha ha ha.  Very funny, hon.

My parents used to torture us with a single eight track tape of a gospel quartet called The Statesmen.  After a trip from California to Canada and back again with the sole Statesmen tape, we grew to appreciate good harmonies and men that could sing higher than Miss. Piggy.  If you ever need any of the lyrics from the Statesmen, please contact me or my siblings.  We know every single word…. in four part harmony, because we’re going to “see Saint Peter, Ol’ James and John, we’re gonna talk to the prophets one by one, when we move back into my Father’s house on Heaven Avenue.”  See, it’s a generational torture chamber.