Fifteen years. A decade and a half. A lifetime ago that seems like just a few years ago.
It was a cold, snowy Monday morning on January 15, 2001 where I found myself boarding a Southwest Airplane from Midway Airport in Chicago, Illinois that would land just two hours later in Orlando, Florida. I had my bag checked. The bag I had to remove items from because it was too heavy to check. I was as ready as I was going to be. If I'm being honest I wasn't ready at all. If I'm being brutally honest I almost turned back around and didn't go.
In my fall semester of 2000 in college on a complete, total, and impulsive whim I went to a presentation in the Student Center auditorium on the campus of SIU Carbondale. It was a Tuesday. I sat through a presentation that intrigued me. It entranced me. It inspired me. I signed up.
The following day I went and had a brief 30 minute interview with a Disney recruiter. I was 19 years old. I was naive to think that my brief on a whim interview with a Disney recruiter for a position in their College Program went well. I may have only been 19. I may have been naive. I may still be naive. But less than a month later I was notified that I was selected for the 2001 Spring Semester College Program at Walt Disney World.
The catch? I'd have to take off a semester of college. The Program/Internship I was chosen for had nothing. NOT A SINGLE THING to do with my major. That meant that I not only would be taking a semester off from my education, but also only get 1 credit hour for my work and that was through some weird General Education course that pretty much was designed for that exact situation to maintain my status as a student. I thought about it. I dwelled. I gave myself some weird stomach ulcer. I went.
I looked at the experience as a once in a lifetime opportunity. I only had heard what others had to say about their experience as a CP (College Program), so I basically didn't know a thing. I gave it a whirl. I landed in Orlando, the sun was out and it was 70. I retrieved my bag and I got a pass to take a bus to Downtown Disney. The experience was a whirl wind from dropping my bag off to checking in, to receiving my assignment where I would spend the next five months working, to receiving my housing assignment.
In 2001 MTV's 'The Real World' was pretty popular, at least to my generation it was. The premise was X number of strangers were picked to live in a house and work. These people typically did not know one another prior, on the rare occasion two may have known each other; the rest strangers. That was TV. My life was reality. I was assigned Apartment number 502 at Vista Way Apartments.
I got on a plane in snowy Chicago weather, flew to Orlando, Florida, moved in with 5 strangers, and called my mom in tears wanting to come home all within about a 12 hour period. Not bad for a 19 year old.
I could go on about the escapades of working at the Contemporary Resort for five months. Don't get me wrong, amazing experience. Interesting people. I waited on Rosie O'Donnell at one point and time. I worked in a resort that the monorail drives through. Some work days I'd take the bus from my apartment complex to work and work my shift. I would or wouldn't (depending on the day) get off work in time to make my bus so I'd hop on the monorail to go to another resort to catch a bus home, or worst case scenario I'd maneuver around to a theme park to catch a bus home. You read that right. My life wasn't a reality. In fact if I'm being honest I typically worked the 3pm-midnight shift. Sure, that in real world time meant that I could have slept in until noon or 1pm. In my fantasy world that meant I got up early and went with roommates, friends, coworkers, or myself to the theme parks. Even if I only rode one ride before work; I went. I made it my goal when I went for my College Program to ride every ride, see every show, see every parade at least once. I was successful.
More so being successful in figuring out how to get from resort to resort to get home. Or to know someone running an attraction. Or to know the best spot for a parade, firework display, or show. A greater life skill came about. In fact, two. I found courage. I found lifelong friends.
Those 5 strangers I moved in with? We were from different walks of life. At the time as a 19 year old from Illinois in 2001 we could not have been from any other walks of life.
I moved in with Jilliane from Louisiana who had been crowned Homecoming Queen at her University and rooming with her was Leah also from Louisiana (and the same University) who was a cheerleader. They were Southern girls, accents and all. Loud. Hugging. Loving Southern Girls. First meeting: I was sacred. They roomed together in the first room as you entered our three bedroom apartment. They had a built in, small bathroom.
I moved in with Melissa who had previously worked at Disney and was sorta from here there and everywhere. She didn't have an accent but loved Goofy. Melissa's laugh was hilarious and I actually met her as I was checking in and we took the bus together.
Rooming with Melissa was Kelly Joy (from Illinois), their shared love of Goofy bonded them. While Kelly Joy (from Illinois) and I were both from Illinois we definitely represented two different parts of the state.
I was left rooming with Amanda. Let me just get this out of the way. None of us speak to Amanda anymore. We speak of her, we fondly call her Greasy. In fact we called her Greasy 15 years ago. Acne is no joke, I suffer from adult acne from time to time. Greasy, well, I mean, her face was Greasy. Her hair was Greasy. Speaking of her hair she once dyed it red and it's an unfortunate story but none of the dye made it on her hair. I mean, I'm sure it did, but our program provided white linens, towels, and walls took to the red dye more than her hair. And Superbowl (whatever number) in 2001 .... when the rest of us college aged kids were ordering pizza and gathering in masses to watch the game; Greasy (from Mississippi originally) decided to take on gumbo. I was from Illinois, and let me tell you, even I had enough damn sense (combined with a lack of interest) to attempt to make gumbo in the presence of two women who were from Louisiana; Louisiana all but has a state motto of "We Know Gumbo." I digress. Greasy attempted to make gumbo, but it was liquid, as in, we needed straws. Ironically this was not a far cry from her daily non-cleaning shenanigans of making juice. She brought her own juicer from Mississippi. Her juice was always the same color: sludge. I never partook in trying any, but I only imagine the sludge color of juice had a similar sludge taste. As if all of that wasn't enough oddities for Greasy, it was actually early on in our living with her that we all but tried to move her out. Don't read this and think back that we had to be horrible College Programmer's in 2001 ... I actually believe the incoming College Programmer's of 2016 may take their roommate telling them that they have pubic lice shampoo if they need it ... they may take that statement as a flag to try to move her out during the night. So Greasy, if you read this, the Ladies of 502(10) ... we say "Sorry, Miss Jackson".
I kept to myself for a while at the apartment. I really didn't know what to think of my roommates. They broke me out of my shell. The helped me. They made me grow. They changed me ... and for the better.
There was also an adventure during our time that everyone was differently involved in. My parents and sister came to visit. They met and spent time individually with each of my roommates. This wasn't planned, it just happened that way. Jilliane went to dinner with my family at Planet Hollywood and drove us around in the Purple Pistol (god rest its soul and our memories). It was also Jilliane who convinced the security guards at the guard shack to let my underage sister in so my family could see our apartment. Melissa went to a villain's character dinner with my family. Leah came to Port Orleans where my family was staying and the two of us went to every pool at the resort only to find each one filled with High School Science boys. I'm still not convinced we weren't a dream come true for them. Kelly Joy (from Illinois) wasn't able to meet my family at that time, but during the summer after we both returned to Illinois she spent the weekend with my family. My family, much like the rest of us ... never met Amanda. I still claim they weren't missing much.
Our outgoing answering machine (it was 2001 after all), it was Outkast's Ms. Jackson starting and Jilliane saying "Sorry Ms. Jackson". On occasions when we were all home and off together at night we would have 'journal time' in one of the bedrooms, all laying on beds or the floor listening to music. Typically Lifehouse, which still reminds each of us of the other, and Jilliane is still on their email list.
These women brought me out of my shell placing me sometimes in awkward situations, many I've already noted. They also gave me courage because they are all strong, intelligent, powerful women in their own right. They showed me it was ok to be me at 19, the me that other people gave me strange looks at. Now granted, at 34 I still get those looks, but I'm also wise enough to know it's ok.
It was in 2008 we had a reunion, we all met where it all began (Ok, not actually at Vista Way). It was a grand time. By that point and time two of my roommates were married and one with a daughter already. Now, fifteen years after we met they are all married and with children, and yet our jokes are the same as 15 years ago. If we hear a song from that time we let the others know. I'm still referred to as a hellacious little pickle. I'm not actually sure, other than Jilliane calling me such, where or why the name came about. All I know is I wear it like a badge of honor.
No one will ever understand. I could go on about our adventures of greatness. From a midnight trip to downtown Orlando to a friend of a friends apartment that looking back I'm surprised we made it out alive. Or to an immediate care clinic that took hours. Or the late night Taco Bell trips. The adventures of resort and park hopping. The drunk night of Leah's 21st birthday. And no, Joey still isn't cute.
My life is nothing close to resembling normal. Then again who can say theirs is? I like my randomness. I like my misadventures. I owe a lot to the fellow women of 502(10) because I can definitely say without a doubt in my mind had they not brought me out of my shell, well brave things like cutting all of my hair off (the first of many times), karaoke, dancing in public, understanding how to care for someone and do kind and random acts for them, and so much more I would never be. As well they cheer me on from afar for my racing. I only imagine and look forward to the day that they come in person and cheer me on in a race. Then again, I'm not sure the race world is ready for these gals ... I have a feeling if you give them a cowbell the world, much like me in life, will never be the same again.
It was a cold, snowy Monday morning on January 15, 2001 where I found myself boarding a Southwest Airplane from Midway Airport in Chicago, Illinois that would land just two hours later in Orlando, Florida. I had my bag checked. The bag I had to remove items from because it was too heavy to check. I was as ready as I was going to be. If I'm being honest I wasn't ready at all. If I'm being brutally honest I almost turned back around and didn't go.
In my fall semester of 2000 in college on a complete, total, and impulsive whim I went to a presentation in the Student Center auditorium on the campus of SIU Carbondale. It was a Tuesday. I sat through a presentation that intrigued me. It entranced me. It inspired me. I signed up.
The following day I went and had a brief 30 minute interview with a Disney recruiter. I was 19 years old. I was naive to think that my brief on a whim interview with a Disney recruiter for a position in their College Program went well. I may have only been 19. I may have been naive. I may still be naive. But less than a month later I was notified that I was selected for the 2001 Spring Semester College Program at Walt Disney World.
The catch? I'd have to take off a semester of college. The Program/Internship I was chosen for had nothing. NOT A SINGLE THING to do with my major. That meant that I not only would be taking a semester off from my education, but also only get 1 credit hour for my work and that was through some weird General Education course that pretty much was designed for that exact situation to maintain my status as a student. I thought about it. I dwelled. I gave myself some weird stomach ulcer. I went.
I looked at the experience as a once in a lifetime opportunity. I only had heard what others had to say about their experience as a CP (College Program), so I basically didn't know a thing. I gave it a whirl. I landed in Orlando, the sun was out and it was 70. I retrieved my bag and I got a pass to take a bus to Downtown Disney. The experience was a whirl wind from dropping my bag off to checking in, to receiving my assignment where I would spend the next five months working, to receiving my housing assignment.
In 2001 MTV's 'The Real World' was pretty popular, at least to my generation it was. The premise was X number of strangers were picked to live in a house and work. These people typically did not know one another prior, on the rare occasion two may have known each other; the rest strangers. That was TV. My life was reality. I was assigned Apartment number 502 at Vista Way Apartments.
I got on a plane in snowy Chicago weather, flew to Orlando, Florida, moved in with 5 strangers, and called my mom in tears wanting to come home all within about a 12 hour period. Not bad for a 19 year old.
I could go on about the escapades of working at the Contemporary Resort for five months. Don't get me wrong, amazing experience. Interesting people. I waited on Rosie O'Donnell at one point and time. I worked in a resort that the monorail drives through. Some work days I'd take the bus from my apartment complex to work and work my shift. I would or wouldn't (depending on the day) get off work in time to make my bus so I'd hop on the monorail to go to another resort to catch a bus home, or worst case scenario I'd maneuver around to a theme park to catch a bus home. You read that right. My life wasn't a reality. In fact if I'm being honest I typically worked the 3pm-midnight shift. Sure, that in real world time meant that I could have slept in until noon or 1pm. In my fantasy world that meant I got up early and went with roommates, friends, coworkers, or myself to the theme parks. Even if I only rode one ride before work; I went. I made it my goal when I went for my College Program to ride every ride, see every show, see every parade at least once. I was successful.
More so being successful in figuring out how to get from resort to resort to get home. Or to know someone running an attraction. Or to know the best spot for a parade, firework display, or show. A greater life skill came about. In fact, two. I found courage. I found lifelong friends.
Those 5 strangers I moved in with? We were from different walks of life. At the time as a 19 year old from Illinois in 2001 we could not have been from any other walks of life.
I moved in with Jilliane from Louisiana who had been crowned Homecoming Queen at her University and rooming with her was Leah also from Louisiana (and the same University) who was a cheerleader. They were Southern girls, accents and all. Loud. Hugging. Loving Southern Girls. First meeting: I was sacred. They roomed together in the first room as you entered our three bedroom apartment. They had a built in, small bathroom.
I moved in with Melissa who had previously worked at Disney and was sorta from here there and everywhere. She didn't have an accent but loved Goofy. Melissa's laugh was hilarious and I actually met her as I was checking in and we took the bus together.
Rooming with Melissa was Kelly Joy (from Illinois), their shared love of Goofy bonded them. While Kelly Joy (from Illinois) and I were both from Illinois we definitely represented two different parts of the state.
I was left rooming with Amanda. Let me just get this out of the way. None of us speak to Amanda anymore. We speak of her, we fondly call her Greasy. In fact we called her Greasy 15 years ago. Acne is no joke, I suffer from adult acne from time to time. Greasy, well, I mean, her face was Greasy. Her hair was Greasy. Speaking of her hair she once dyed it red and it's an unfortunate story but none of the dye made it on her hair. I mean, I'm sure it did, but our program provided white linens, towels, and walls took to the red dye more than her hair. And Superbowl (whatever number) in 2001 .... when the rest of us college aged kids were ordering pizza and gathering in masses to watch the game; Greasy (from Mississippi originally) decided to take on gumbo. I was from Illinois, and let me tell you, even I had enough damn sense (combined with a lack of interest) to attempt to make gumbo in the presence of two women who were from Louisiana; Louisiana all but has a state motto of "We Know Gumbo." I digress. Greasy attempted to make gumbo, but it was liquid, as in, we needed straws. Ironically this was not a far cry from her daily non-cleaning shenanigans of making juice. She brought her own juicer from Mississippi. Her juice was always the same color: sludge. I never partook in trying any, but I only imagine the sludge color of juice had a similar sludge taste. As if all of that wasn't enough oddities for Greasy, it was actually early on in our living with her that we all but tried to move her out. Don't read this and think back that we had to be horrible College Programmer's in 2001 ... I actually believe the incoming College Programmer's of 2016 may take their roommate telling them that they have pubic lice shampoo if they need it ... they may take that statement as a flag to try to move her out during the night. So Greasy, if you read this, the Ladies of 502(10) ... we say "Sorry, Miss Jackson".
I kept to myself for a while at the apartment. I really didn't know what to think of my roommates. They broke me out of my shell. The helped me. They made me grow. They changed me ... and for the better.
There was also an adventure during our time that everyone was differently involved in. My parents and sister came to visit. They met and spent time individually with each of my roommates. This wasn't planned, it just happened that way. Jilliane went to dinner with my family at Planet Hollywood and drove us around in the Purple Pistol (god rest its soul and our memories). It was also Jilliane who convinced the security guards at the guard shack to let my underage sister in so my family could see our apartment. Melissa went to a villain's character dinner with my family. Leah came to Port Orleans where my family was staying and the two of us went to every pool at the resort only to find each one filled with High School Science boys. I'm still not convinced we weren't a dream come true for them. Kelly Joy (from Illinois) wasn't able to meet my family at that time, but during the summer after we both returned to Illinois she spent the weekend with my family. My family, much like the rest of us ... never met Amanda. I still claim they weren't missing much.
Our outgoing answering machine (it was 2001 after all), it was Outkast's Ms. Jackson starting and Jilliane saying "Sorry Ms. Jackson". On occasions when we were all home and off together at night we would have 'journal time' in one of the bedrooms, all laying on beds or the floor listening to music. Typically Lifehouse, which still reminds each of us of the other, and Jilliane is still on their email list.
These women brought me out of my shell placing me sometimes in awkward situations, many I've already noted. They also gave me courage because they are all strong, intelligent, powerful women in their own right. They showed me it was ok to be me at 19, the me that other people gave me strange looks at. Now granted, at 34 I still get those looks, but I'm also wise enough to know it's ok.
It was in 2008 we had a reunion, we all met where it all began (Ok, not actually at Vista Way). It was a grand time. By that point and time two of my roommates were married and one with a daughter already. Now, fifteen years after we met they are all married and with children, and yet our jokes are the same as 15 years ago. If we hear a song from that time we let the others know. I'm still referred to as a hellacious little pickle. I'm not actually sure, other than Jilliane calling me such, where or why the name came about. All I know is I wear it like a badge of honor.
No one will ever understand. I could go on about our adventures of greatness. From a midnight trip to downtown Orlando to a friend of a friends apartment that looking back I'm surprised we made it out alive. Or to an immediate care clinic that took hours. Or the late night Taco Bell trips. The adventures of resort and park hopping. The drunk night of Leah's 21st birthday. And no, Joey still isn't cute.
My life is nothing close to resembling normal. Then again who can say theirs is? I like my randomness. I like my misadventures. I owe a lot to the fellow women of 502(10) because I can definitely say without a doubt in my mind had they not brought me out of my shell, well brave things like cutting all of my hair off (the first of many times), karaoke, dancing in public, understanding how to care for someone and do kind and random acts for them, and so much more I would never be. As well they cheer me on from afar for my racing. I only imagine and look forward to the day that they come in person and cheer me on in a race. Then again, I'm not sure the race world is ready for these gals ... I have a feeling if you give them a cowbell the world, much like me in life, will never be the same again.
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| Melissa, myself, Jilliane, Leah, and Kelly Joy (from Illinois) with the now defunct Malestrom Troll in Norway at EPCOT during our reunion in 2008. |
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