Last I left you, Julie and I had just visited Gaston and I was choking down the disgusting-ness that is LeFou’s Brew whilst touring New Fantasyland. That drink is terrible. Seriously. I’ve tasted straight liquor that was better than that. This was the point in the day where we met about a million characters in quick succession because nobody had a line. We started off with Ariel in her grotto, where I had to chug about a quarter of the brew once we got to go visit a mermaid. Ariel was pretty fantastic, even though I don’t remember what we talked about, except she did record a video on my iphone for my niece’s second birthday because Ariel is her favorite. God, it was cute. Then we took a trip into Storybook Circus to go do the Daisy/Minnie and Donald/Goofy circuit. Donald was not that great. Goofy was the shit. He was blowing up my fist bumps. I took some extremely awkward photographs with the girls because I’m about a foot taller than them. That, and I can’t pose girly to save my life. Princess, yes. Girly, no. Yes, there is a difference. We trekked through the gift shop (where Julie began her obsession with the blue slushies…I think. Correct me if I’m wrong), and then it was about time to go to my Pirates League appointment. Hey, it was a Halloween Party night. I was dressing as a pirate. Don’t judge me. Of course, I checked in, picked my makeup, and then proceeded to trip the fuck over the little gate rope barricades, prompting some pirate snark I can’t really remember. Arrg.
It was at this point I thought it would be the bright idea to change into my costume, so cue me trying to get out of my clothes and into a corset type pirate dress and thigh high boots in the Tortuga Tavern bathroom. What a fucking mess. I mean, I have concert changed at rest stops, but I think this was a whole new low. Disney World really needs some dressing rooms for those of us who feel the need to costume change throughout the day. Something with makeup counters and personal dressers who can zip up my goddamned boots. Also, let me tell you, I wore some cropped leggings underneath my costume, and that was probably the best decision I have ever made, as my skirt proceeded to flip up the entire rest of the night. And it was 1pm. Anyway, so I went to do Pirates League. I highly recommend this experience because it’s the only fun thing you can do as an adult that involves a costume. I got my own pirate name, a treasure chest full of swag, AND A FUCKING SWORD. I was gonna pack one, but I did not want funny looks from TSA agents, so I was really happy that I got a sword with my makeover. Spoiler: no one else likes the sword. I’ll elaborate later. I chose the Halloween exclusive Zombie Pirate makeover, and the girl who did my makeup even let me customize it to my liking, which was really great. I had the skeleton face with red lipstick, and it was pretty baller. Here’s a picture of the ceiling:
After my makeup was finished, I got to take my own mini-photo shoot in this “secret” room, and ugh, it was great. Pirate face-a-palooza. Since I had Photopass +, I got print outs of my shots, and got all of them added to my card. Seriously, if you can swing a Pirates League makeover, do it. It was probably one of the most fun things that happened in Disney.
So, now I’m walking around the park dressed up like a pirate with a skeleton face (oh, and with a feather with a skeleton HAND attached in my hair, I rule) owning the universe, and because it’s a little too early for the people in costume to be out, I’m getting a loooot of funny looks along with the compliments. Whatever, clearly everyone is just jealous of my awesomeness, right? Well, Julie had to change into her costume, too, so we headed back up to the front of the park to throw everything into our locker. On our way, we’d passed by meeting Mickey Mouse about thirteen times (did I fail to mention that we’d been criss crossing throughout the day on the train to drop stuff off sporadically? Whoops.), so we thought we’d go check him out. Now, I heard Talking Mickey might be out for the party, but I really wasn’t expecting to find him before it. Oh, no. He was out. I fucking hate puppets. And things that talk that aren’t supposed to, like dolls, stuffed animals, MICKEY MOUSE. And the family before us got Talking Mickey, and then they changed him out, so I was like, “YES, OUR MICKEY WILL BE MUTE.” Oh, hell, no. That bitch blinked and spoke and moved his mouth and the photopass photographer caught me jumping backwards from him and freaking the fuck out. I am a grown ass woman, I should not be terrified of Talking Mickey, BUT I WAS. It didn’t help that Talking Mickey seemed to know what I was wearing, had an entire conversation with us about pirates and then made us do our best “pirate pose.” I wanted to die.
As for the title of this post, karma came and bit me in the ass. While we were in line for Talking Mickey, we were in front of this little girl who kept staring at me and cowering behind her mom. Muahaha. Scaring little children for the win. Yeah…muahahaha alright, terrified because of a talking mouse for the LOSE. This week’s lesson: karma is a bitch.
On that note, let’s pause, and next time we’ll get into the Halloween Party which involves standing in a line for two hours to meet the greatest character in all of Disney, tiny top hats, and a showdown with Tarzan.