Love at First Bite: The Bite Continued

In my previous post I began telling you all about my cheat days with bae. When I get hungry I stop being hungry and be awesome instead. Just kidding... I'm always awesome... and I hit up almost every restaurant on Disney property, so now I require this second blog post. 

Trail's End Restaurant

I travelled to the end of the world for bae. 

So much delicious. 

I was full of delicious until that night. 

The bank account was grateful after the expensive little California Grill outing the night before. 

As the caloric intake sank in, I sank further into the supportive arms of my rockin' new buddy. 

Nine Dragons

Bae and I rode the oriental express all the way to the city of Forgetyourdiet. 

I had a bit of (all of) this and a bit of (all of) that

and a bit of that pork too. 

Here's the obligatory pose with a fancy hardwood design you can't even see and I can't possibly remember to be able to describe it. 

Tangierine Cafe

In make-believe Morrocco bae proved it's impossible to be forever flawless. 

L'Artisans Des Glaces

Bae found redemption in faux France. 

Sorry, I've been so caught up in my relationship with bae (obviously food) for two posts that I forgot to mention the other Pizza Planetear in the photos is Kyra. 

Love at First Bite

I might be on a diet some days, but other days are for cheating on my diet with bae. Bae doesn't care how much I weigh or how pudgy my midsection becomes. We've spent time together all over Disney property. 

The Grand Floridian Cafe

We had such a grand time here. 

Olivia's Cafe

This was quite a quaint setting for quality time with bae.

I wasn't supposed to eat everything on my plate, but I couldn't keep the delicious little Carribbean shrimp and rice family separated. 

California Grill

Bae looked prettiest here; a work of art.

Here is pork two ways. And that's where the calories went. Two ways. To each of my thighs. 

This is what happens when you accidentally have your selfie camera on when you decide to capture an image of your hefty bill.

No cast member discounts here unfortunately. 

It was a once in a program event, but completely worth the dent in my bank account. 

Apparently I may have frequented a few too many restaurants, so this blog post will have to be continued...

Perks of Being a Walt Flower

Occasionally, as a cast member a little of the pixie dust intended for guests lands on you. You're thrust into a sudden burst of magic, questioning "is this real life?" Yes. Yes it is. I've even got the photos to prove it.

There was that time Kyra and I ventured to Magic Kingdom and were literally pixie dusted. (Literally means something different over here in Merica.)

Normally, a day in the life of a Pizza Planetear involves pizza and pizza stuff, but one day wasn't normal. Some might say it was magical. I personally wouldn't go that far, but others might. Part of the paid portion of my shift involved a little spin on Toy Story Midway Mania. 

It was like the tiny green aliens on my work shirt were magnetically drawn to Pixar Place (in the same way that I'm drawn to 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney). 

My score was low... but Heather's score was lower. 

That happened not once, but twice. My little green alien friends and I looped the track again and all without a fast pass or 27 hour wait time in sight. That, my friends, was the real magic.  

Sometimes I go on rides and see shows even when I'm not working because free park entry. Most of these experiences can be categorised as positive. Festival of the Lion King is a show I missed on my first trip to Walt's World. 

It lived up to the hype I created in my over active imagination. 

I held back the waterfalls that threatened to gush from my emotional eyeballs. 

After the magic from the king of the jungle Kyra and I stumbled upon some dancing. 

This was the closest I'd come to a dance class all year, so of course I had to join the festivities. 

They say it's tough to be a bug, but as the stars of the show they had it easy. 

Potential audience members should be warned of the imminent horror. Traumatised, I closed my eyes. My internal dialogue vocalised by the terrorised screams of small children.

That Dinosaur ride everyone warns you about? Nothing compared to the terror of the bugs. Plus it's right near this prehistoric cutie. 

Another Cast Member perk is the food. My taste buds and waistline disagree about this one. Aside from the occasional seasonal cupcake come the Rice Krispie Treats. I'm convinced Disney has acquired the rice based cereal at some point in their quest to own the world. 

The cast dining discounts are another perk, but they require a whole post of their own. Stay tuned for my next delectable blog post.

Disney Terms

Sometimes College Programmers don't finish what they came to do - their College Program. Some get terminated (or "termed") and others self-term. I'm still not entirely sure of everything that can get you termed, but I'm still here so I must be going ok. 

What happens when you're termed? All I know is you can't get one of those adorable Mickey ear graduation hats... oh, and obviously you no longer work for the Mouse. So there goes your free park entry and chance to ride Space Mountain for the twenty-seventh time. 

But what happens when you're not termed? What happens when you defy the odds and complete your program? Fellow Pizza Planetears Mike and Mike did just that. For some participants, termination doesn't touch them with a ten foot pole, but both Mikes werked that termination pole for most of their programs. Dancing dangerously close to being termed. But they weren't. So of course the dreaded goodbyes were uttered amongst some farewell celebrations. 

The first Mike to complete his program was Mean Mike (even though he's not actually) or Angry Mike. 

For his farewell we invaded Splitsville bar and a bowling lane. Then the gang headed to Mike's Quality Inn room because what's a going away party without at least one location change?

Here's a candid shot of some of the party goers at Splitsville. They were a little confused by why I needed a photo. For the blog, of course. 

I already miss Mike raging around the restaurant and telling it like it is. It's ok though. Just like 90% of Americans I meet he is definitely, maybe, probably, one hundred per cent, kind of not going to visit Australia one day in the not too distant or very distant future. Probably once tectonic plates push our home countries into closer proximity. 

Here are a couple of photos of more revellers at the Quality Inn. 

The Mike on the left is Angry/Mean Mike. The Mike on the right? The Mike on the right is known as Big Mike or Tall Mike to others, but to me he became Sweetheart. One day he jokingly patronised me with the name Sweetheart. I acknowledged his condescension in a way that would make sassy feminists proud. This then compelled us to call each other Sweetheart. 

I'm certainly going miss the lifts home, conversations about life, his long limbs to grasp those unreachable pizzas and his in person reviews of these blog posts. (I now expect those reviews in writing rather than heard.)

How to farewell such a sweetheart? Over a couple of late night/early morning gatherings with some location changes, of course. 

The first venue? Heather's apartment at Chatham. Here are some of the current and former Planetears who gathered that night for pizza, Cards Against Humanity and Mike's Hard Lemonade. Yes, Sweetheart brought beverages with his own name on them. 

I am now realising that Sweetheart isn't even in this photo. I guess you could call it a photo of his groupies. 

Never fear, celebrations spilled over to two nights later where Sweetheart made it into some photos. Before we see those photos let's share some dessert appreciation. The group at the Alehouse table were not convinced Captain Jack's Buried Treasure is one of the best desserts ever. 

After ordering two for the table it was quickly realised that Captain Jack had buried a foodgasm amongst the layers of sweet deliciousness.

I know I'm meant to be on a diet, but sometimes I'm all about that cake, bout that cake, no apple. 

After the life changing dessert and Jerry's comprehensive restaurant experience review of "Pretty good" was the location change - a slightly sketchy hookah bar. I'm still not entirely sure of what I stepped into and there is no photographic evidence of the hookahs, white leather lounges, dim lighting and the early days Destiny's Child over the speakers. But there is a photo of the foamy fountain out the front. (And look, that's Sweetheart in the background in his standard skinny jeans and t-shirt ensemble.)

Here are more photos of Sweetheart I promised. 

Congratulations Mean Mike and Sweetheart for not getting termed and thank you for being one of the reasons I haven't self-termed.