20 years ago... (Part II)

(Part I is here)

So what was I to do? I wanted to move to Florida for the summer and work at Walt Disney World, but I could not figure out how to make the finances work.

Remember how I said Holly was really smart? Well, she came up with a plan. There were going to be 4 girls in one 2 bedroom apartment and 4 guys next door in another 2 bedroom apartment. I was offered the opportunity to be the 5th roomie in the girl's pad and I could sleep on the couch (for a reduced rent, of course). Not a fold out couch, mind you, just the couch. I was in! The only other problem, however, was that Holly was going to arrive in Florida after I did, so she gave me directions to the apartment complex and spoke those fateful words, "When you get to the apartment, ask for a guy named Scott Hughes."

So, I packed my meager belongings and headed off on my adventure. I stayed with a cousin north of Orlando for a week or so until the rest of my future roomies arrived. Apparently this guy named Scott Hughes was to show up with others from the far off land of Indiana and then I would move into the apartment.

In the meantime, I drove to the main entrance of Walt Disney World and when asked to pay for parking, I informed the attendant that I really was there to get a job. He directed me to the trailer that was used as the "casting" office at the time, so off I went. Within 45 minutes I had filled out an application, taken a math test that would have insulted a 10 year old's intelligence, had an interview in which I most vehemently rejected any position that involved food service and was hired as a casual temporary for the summer! It was official, I worked for The Mouse.

My first day of work was spent in a class called Disney Traditions. This was a new hire class that taught you everything from what make-up, shoes and jewelry you could wear "on stage" to how to easily remember the names of all 7 Dwarfs. They even dispelled myths. That's right, Walt is not buried in some room in Cinderella's castle but is in fact in the ground somewhere in Anaheim.

Want to hear a funny aside to all this? Sure you do!

There I was at my WDW new hire class, and this good looking guy from the class walks up to me during a break and says "Don't I know you from Carolina?" Now I did not know this guy at all so my response was typical, tactless Jacque. I said, "I am 700 miles from home, there are 12,000 students at Chapel Hill, there are 25,000 employees at Disney, there are hundred of "Traditions" classes at Disney....and you know me??" Thankfully, John just laughed and we forged a friendship.

We spent hours over the next couple of weeks trying to figure out how in the world he recognized me from Carolina. I lived on campus, he lived off campus. We did not have any of the same classes or outside activities together and we could not find one single friend that we had in common. In the end, we figured out that he and I had walked past each other every day on the way to class the previous semester. All I can say is that God was looking out for me for sure because in those first few days on my own, He helped me find a friend to hang out with.

Although John did not live with the gang that eventually came together that summer, he was officially part of the "InX" (as we referred to ourselves - the In stood for cool and the X stood for the fact that we never knew how many of us would be in the apartments at any given time. Yes, we were dorks. Probably still are.)

Our buddy John...never get him started on his days as a surgical assistant!

But, what about that guy I was supposed to ask for? Some tall guy named Scott? Well...
(stay tuned for Part III)

20 years ago....(Part I)

20 years ago this week I began an adventure that would shape the course of my adult years.

A soul searching trip across the United States in a VW bus?
A missions trip to a third world country?
A summer in Alaska researching wildlife?

Nope.

20 years ago this week, I hopped into my 1978 Carolina Blue BMW, drove out of Chapel Hill, North Carolina and took a 700 mile drive to Lake Buena Vista, Florida. And lest you be too impressed with the car, it was mechanically a piece of crap, but oh my, I looked good driving it. 

So, why did I drive to Florida, you ask? Well, I went there in search of a guy named Scott Hughes.

Okay, so I realize I need to provide a little back story.

Mid-May, 1988: I was completing my junior year at UNC-Chapel Hill. Up to that point I had spent every summer before and during college taking a class at Winston-Salem State University and waiting tables at the Dead Lob (that's Red Lobster for those of you who never worked there - to this day I still get a bit stressed out when I see the Lobsterfest commercials).

I was determined to have "the best summer of my life," since it was in effect my last summer before I had to enter the real world all on my own (of course, this was back in the late 1980's, a time when it was not a forgone conclusion that college graduates would move back home and leech off live with their parents for another 10 years.)

So, one day in May I was walking through the dorm when a sign caught my eye. "Live with me at Walt Disney World this summer!" Well, can you image any greater enticement in the world??

I called the number listed on the flyer and asked for Holly M. The person who answered the phone promptly banged on a wall and yelled to her next door neighbor that the phone was for her. This was really funny.  Why? Well, you see, my soon to be dear friend Holly is incredibly smart. I mean really smart. Honor student, blah, blah, blah. And I think when one is really smart like that sometimes the little things in life are a wee bit challenging...like putting your own phone number on the flyer instead of your next door neighbors by mistake! Ah, I still laugh at that one. I quickly learned that it was a not an a-typical Holly M. move :)

Anyhoo, Holly and I met and she brought with her all of the Disney propaganda and lots of fun and exciting stories of her previous summer at Disney, which had me ready to sign up....except...there was one a small problem. Apparently Disney would pay me about $670.00 a month for a 40 hour work week and my living expenses would likely run around $700 a month. Even I could do the math on that one.

But I was not to be discouraged and Holly had an idea....(stay tuned for Part II)

Sweet Holly the summer of '88

Working it out....

Last week I learned that a childhood friend had been killed in a murder-suicide. Although I had not spoken to Amy in nearly 10 years, the shock and subsequent pain from the situation was intense. This selfish and evil act robbed 2 parents of their child, 3 children of their mother, a husband of his wife, a brother of his sister and an untold amount of friends of a beautiful, dear friend.

Because of my beliefs, my mind has been working very hard to focus on God's greater plan in all of this. I know, to the core of my being, that while God did not cause this to happen, he will find a way to use it to pour out blessings some how, some time, some place. But right now my heart disdains that image. How pathetic and empty it sounds to my own ears. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain of not being able to say that last "I love you." To have a part of one's life ripped away so senselessly. It is so sad...and to say that is so inadequate.

As a parent, I rarely allow myself to go to that very dark place where my mind wanders about horrible things that could happen to my children. But when I do, I have to physically shake my head and shudder to force the thoughts from my head. It is overwhelming.

I know our time on earth is fleeting. So I am working my way out of the sadness. I know the road will be much longer and much more painful for Amy's family and close friends. I pray that God's plan for the blessings from Amy's death begin to show up now.

Today. I will do my part by working hard to ensure my friends and family know how much I love them, cherish them and want so much to live with them forever in paradise.

The knowledge that Jesus has taken Amy's heart and soul in his loving arms helps. But I still cannot stop wondering why....

And so it begins....

So I admit that we were extremely "blessed" with the whole potty training thing with Eliza Grace. Around her second birthday we introduced her to one of the most powerful motivating forces on the entire planet: the M-n-M.

That's right. Never underestimate the power of that tiny morsel of candy-coated chocolate goodness. Our policy was "one for tinks, 2 for poops." And in 3 days, we were done. Well, with the "training" part, but not the M-n-M's. I believe it was well past her 4th birthday when I finally declared that she was too old to expect a "pooping treat" any longer.

Well, here we are with little man Will. From his second birthday (last November) up until last night, asking if he wanted to sit on the big potty was met with a resounding "No!" Actually, some times he would say, "uh, no tanks" with a smile.

But last night just before bath time, in an effort to avoid his peeing in the tub ritual, I undressed him, walked him into the bathroom, sat him on the potty and made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

Me: "Will, do you want an M-n-M?"

Will: "Yes!

Me: "Well, go tinkle on the potty now and you may have an M-n-M"

Will: "ok"

And lo and behold, he tinkled away! Of course, not owning the equipment myself, I was a little befuddled as to what the rules are on the whole shake, wiggle or whatever they do when done. But since he was sitting, we used a wee bit of tp. And then the high fives, big hugs and lots of praise ensued. Of course, Will was thrilled with all of that but really he just wanted his M-n-M.

So we will see if this is a one shot deal or a trend in the making. Suppose I need to get some Lightning McQueen undies to have on hand.

Wish us luck because we need to use the diaper money to buy gas!