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WDW 26, Day 3

Epcot day. Tavie in Her Element Day. Of all places, this is my favourite. Just Mom and me today, which is always very lovely-- no bitching, no whining. I did everything I wanted, feasted sumptuously in the evening, and felt no need to rush around. Really the only drawback to walking around with my mom all day is that her bladder is the size of a pea.

I think I frightened one of the kids at Fake Canada. I walked by a souvenier kiosk and a cashier girl called after me, "Are you from Canada?", pointing to my tattoo.

"No--" I hesitated. "I'm-- just a fan!"

"Oh! Okay!"

Awkward smile as I scamper away. Well, what can I say? I never said the tattoo would be easy to explain...

I took about a million pictures of light fixtures today. And I didn't even scratch the surface. Fake Morocco is clearly the winner in terms of sheer variety of gorgeous lamps and lanterns. I can't wait to get up my nerdy little gallery.

I finally got to dine at Marrakesh in Morocco, a first in 22 years. I think that's the very last frontier; I'm pretty sure I've now dined at every restaurant in Epcot. Marrakesh was very yummy and there were belly dancers. Afterwards, we did Norway, we did Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya, and then Mom and I took a completely gratuitous ride on the monorail just so we could ride through Future World one last time.

I got a call from Andrew about half-past-"Living with the Land" and he told me, frantically, to be sure and not buy the porcelin figurine of Elliot (from Pete's Dragon) because he'd gotten it for me on his trip several weeks ago, the darling, the sweet darling lovely boy. Of course, I had already bought it, the minute I'd seen it, but I had no trouble returning it for a refund.

In fact, it was the girl who gave me my refund that made my night, as once again I was mistaken for a person of more tender years. The clerk herself looked about 12 years old, the sweetest kid from Indiana University, and she said to me as I handed over my debit card for the refund, "How old are you?" in the unabashed way that young people ask each other that question.

"25," I grinned.

"Wow, wow, no way. I thought you were my age."

"How old are you?"

"I'm 19. I thought when I asked you for the card you'd have to go get it from your mom!"

Damn, you know, I love this place.

I feel sick about tomorrow, though. I'm trying not to think about it. The fact that I'd get home tomorrow afternoon was artfully concealed from me. I had not been counting on missing two days of work "in a row". I feel really damn sick about that. Best not to think about it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:30 PM | shower me with attention