I'll be home for Christmas (If only in my dreams...)

It's the 28th December. I'm sat at my kitchen table in bright red tartan pyjamas eating my weight in peanut butter cups with the promise that chocolate will stop being my main meal of the day on the 2nd January (it won't).

I've got big, fluffy, comfy socks on my feet and the Christmas episode of Mrs Brown's Boys playing in the background.

All sound about right so far?

Except one thing.

My kitchen table is in Orlando, not Essex, and apart from the sound of Mrs Brown's beautiful Irish tones, my house is silent, because I'm in on my own.

Two years ago I wrote that I totally believe that I am able to live and work away from home 362 days of the year only because of the knowledge that I would be back with the four most important people in the world for those three important days of December.

I knew when I wrote those words that this would not always be the case, and this year it finally happened. I had Christmas away from home, and away from my family.

Now if you're going to be away from home for the holidays, Disney is certainly the place to do it. Aside from the fact that they fill their Christmas shows with the songs "I'll Be Home for Christmas (if only in my dreams)", "There's No Place Like Home" and "Home Is Where The Heart Is", it is warm and magical and beautiful and I am so grateful that I was luckily enough to experience it.

But it's still hard being away from your family over Christmas, no matter where you are or what you're doing.

I Skyped my family as soon as I woke up on Christmas morning and have since been told that I was not myself at all. My mum thought it was because I was embarrassed of them. Embarrassed? Of my family? Not a chance. Everyone at work had already seen the picture of my little brother Chip, sleeping on the landing out of excitement for Santa (or maybe it was the seven beers before bed that made him choose to nap at the top of the stairs in just his boxers? You decide.), and I don't think there was a cast member or guest around on Christmas day that didn't hear the story about my Grandad talking into the webcam and waving at the speaker. Nope, it definitely wasn't embarrassment that stopped me from being myself on Christmas morning.

I think I was probably too busy thinking of my favourite things about Christmas at home...

1. Leaving out the mince pie and carrot before bed. 

As most of you will know I love the idea of mythical characters coming to life and playing in the real world (see my June post on my birthday if you're not sure what I'm talking about), so the idea of leaving out treats for Santa then seeing them gone in the morning because he's been there is far too exciting for me, even at twenty-four years old. One year (about three years ago), my mum foolishly ate the last mince pie so that we didn't have one to leave for Santa. A new tradition in my house is for my mum to tell that story and laugh about how upset I was even though I was twenty-one. Cruel, is what it is.

2. My parents still insisting on pretending they've no idea what we've got in our stockings despite the fact that we now know that they...ahem...help Santa.

Adorable.

My brothers and I play along with it so that we don't upset them. It's been about eleven years since Chip found out about their...ahem...helping Santa and still none of us has ever let on.

3. My Dad's sausage and egg sandwiches. 

My friends out here were shocked and horrified when I said that we have cooked sandwiches for breakfast and then Christmas dinner for lunch. Isn't eating until you just cannot stay awake anymore the true meaning of Christmas?

4. The Comfort of It All. 

I always think everything feels so cosy when you're surrounded by family. Everything feels safe and predictable- in a brilliant way. My Auntie Hazel always smells nice, my mum always has a special Christmas dress, my Grandad Ed always wears his hat, Uncle Dave has always seen something funny on the tv he needs to tell us about, my brother Mowgli always answers 'yeah good fanks' (no matter what you ask him), my dad always insists on having a music channel blaring Christmas music from the living room so that whoever's upstairs still getting ready can sing along without having to hear their own voice, Chip's last downstairs because he was having a shower (first one of the year Chip? Someone will always, inevitably say), Grandma's presents are always wrapped to such perfection that it seems a shame to open them, Grandad Derek will give each person an individual lesson on his latest computer gadget (and will subsequently be calling every day until Easter asking them how to get it to turn on), Auntie Alice will regale us with brilliant stories of our great grandparents, Uncle Simon will have us all in hysterics for the entire day and my cousins will pass meaningful looks to me and my brothers that only we would ever understand.

It's really, really hard to recreate that with anyone you're not related to.

5. Mince Pies. 

They don't exist in America. It is mentioned in one episode of Friends that they don't exist in America (when Rachel tries to put beef sauteed with carrots and onions in an English Trifle with the argument that English people eat mincemeat pies for dessert so maybe they like to mix sweet and meat?), so I did know what I was letting myself in for when I moved here but still...for a nation that like to think they're ahead of the game it's a bit of a failure really....

6. Advent Calendars. 

Again, Americans aren't as ahead as they think they are....I did, after several hours of trekking across several Disney Parks manage to track one down but nobody that I spoke to knew what I was referring to (imagine Peter Kay's garlic bread sketch but with chocolate advent calendars and you'll be very close to what I heard approximately fifty times on the 30th November) and it cost an absolute fortune.

7. British Television

I managed to watch all of the American films this year- Miracle on 34th Street, Home Alone, Elf, even a few cheesier, straight-to-Netflix ones called The Mistletones (starring Tia Mowry- one half of the Sister Sister twins) and Holiday In Handcuffs (starring Melissa Joan Hart or- as she's far better known- Sabrina the Teenage Witch)- both of which I highly recommend, but it really didn't feel like Christmas without the British staples.

On Christmas Eve I found myself so desperate to be watching the Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special (one which I have been known to watch three times a day during December) that I just watched the wedding episode (the only one I could find on Netflix). I watched The Vicar of Dibley Christmas episodes twice each but there's only so many times I can stomach the one where she eats four Christmas dinners (uuugghh), and in the end resorted to watching totally-not-seasonal-at-all episodes of Keeping Up Appearances just because they had English accents and a British sense of humour.

Today I finally found Mrs Brown's Boys (the most watched tv show on Christmas day this year, so I'm told) and at last feel relatively Christmassy. Sadly it's looking like Miranda and Eastenders will have to wait until I'm home. (I don't even watch Eastenders but the Christmas episode is always a must, right?)


8. British Food In General. 

I know I've already mentioned mince pies and advent calendars but I miss all British food. I miss decent bread for turkey sandwiches, tins of Roses, English sausages, Robinson's squash, sage and onion stuffing and good cheese and crackers.

You know how guilty you've felt for eating so much this past week?

Don't. Don't feel guilty, savour every mouthful and be grateful you come from a nation with such wonderful Christmas food.

9. Christmas Crackers. 

Yet another amazing Christmas tradition that our pals on this side of the pond haven't caught onto. As far as I know we are actually the only nation to have these wonderful inventions. I've lived with people from Austria, France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Germany, Africa and America and one of my favourite things ever is explaining what a Christmas cracker is. Try it now. Say it out loud. It's funny.

10. The Stories. 

There are certain stories in my family that only come out at Christmas and I am heartbroken that I have to wait another year to hear them.

The time that my Grandma immediately regretted her perm so my mum (in her 8-year-old innocence) told her that she looked like one of The Three Degrees to cheer her up. The time that my little brother Chip gave my cousin his wrapped Christmas present with the line 'it's a truck!', the time that my Grandad was so mad at my misbehaving mother (again, she was about 10- not 45), that he called her a 'cow-face', and the time that my (three year old) dad was so mischievous that he covered himself and a nearby car in freshly laid, not-yet-set tar from the street.

I'm sure your family have them too- they're the part of Christmas that make it yours, and the thing that made me miss home more than anything this year.

I am honestly so sad to have missed Christmas at home this year and it's the most homesick I have ever been in my entire life but luckily for me the alternative was fairly magical in itself....

As I couldn't spend my Christmas with my family I spent it with some of the amazing people that I have met out here. All of us wanted to be with our families but we managed to remain positive (some of us better than others and for that I apologise) and create some special memories of our own...

1. The moment that I pulled out a present for Piglet, explaining that I hadn't intended to buy her anything but that I had seen it and thought of her and couldn't resist- and she then did exactly the same thing! Who knew that actually happens in real life?

2. The moment that it turned 7pm on Christmas Eve. Midnight at home. I was chatting to a guest about their plans for the rest of the evening when they told me that they were planning on being in Magic Kingdom at 12.
'Ah how lovely, see Christmas Day in in Magic Kingdom. Wait! What's the time now?'

 'It's 6.59.'

'That's good enough! It's Christmas in the UK! Merry Christmas!'

At that exact moment I was lucky enough to have the only four nice tables that I had for the entirety of Christmas week. All four of them shouted Christmas wishes at me and celebrated with me in all my excitement. After that it became surreal. I walked into the kitchen, in Walt Disney World, Florida, repeating to myself that it was Christmas day. One of my friends walked past muttering 'kind of bittersweet hey?'

3. The moment that we walked into our hotel. Dale had warned me that the hotel we finally booked was not going to be as nice as the one we had originally hoped for, and that I should prepare myself for that. When we finally made it to our hotel in the middle of the night after a very, very long night at work I could not have walked into anything better. It was beautiful.

4. The moment that Christmas Cheer seemed to infect Dale. 

It was Christmas Eve, He had been fine. He'd been ever so slightly grumpy trying to get to the hotel at a decent time after such a long shift, he'd been happy when we walked into the hotel, and relatively cheery as we put all the food for our Christmas dinner away, ready for the morning.

Then as soon as it was bed time he turned into Buddy the Elf. He was running around the room, jumping on the bed, singing Christmas songs- but changing the words to include the names of the people sleeping on bunk beds right outside our room- it might be the most excited I've seen anyone, ever. Brought my Christmas cheer right back :)

5. Watching Magic Kingdom's Christmas Wishes from our hotel balcony.

The fireworks were beautiful, the cold outside made it magical, the fact that we were in our jammies made it cosy, and the Dairy Milk bar in my hand that I had just opened from my mum made it all the more exciting. But my favourite thing about the fireworks is that Scuttle was making stupid jokes about people on the balcony below us, whilst the rest of us made stupid jokes about Scuttle. Dale made jokes about me and Dopey made jokes about Dale and Jane laughed at all of us. It was almost like being with my family and I'm so, so happy that I got to spend those moments with such wonderful people.

6. My Stocking!

So as we all know Father Christmas sees us when we're sleeping, knows when we're awake and knows if we've been bad or good- he's watching all the time! So he was well aware that I had moved to Florida and made sure that I woke up to a full stocking despite moving across the world. I think I deserve a medal for waiting until the very end of Christmas Day to open it (especially because Father Christmas actually left it for me in Florida in the first week of October), but it was worth every second. I laughed and cried opening it and loved every single present.

Thanks Santa :)

7. Waiting for Christmas dinner. 

We all laid on the sofa. I was reading my magazine (Glamour UK, thanks Father Christmas!), Dopey was Skyping his girlfriend, Jane was reading (mostly racist) jokes out loud from her phone and Scuttle was...putting the world to rights. We spent the entire time laughing, talking, eating, resting, mocking and relaxing. It was as close to home as it could have been.

Thanks :)



8. Christmas Dinner. 

I wanted to help, I really did. I even attempted to help at one point, but Dale was fairly set on doing it by himself. Having seen the results, I understand why.

Dale chopped, sliced, stirred, boiled, baked, sauteed and steamed, all the while managing to chat to the rest of us and stay totally calm and poised. Then somehow, out of nowhere, as the last of the party arrived home from work, he produced an entire, huge, delicious dinner. I have no idea how he did it, everything was made at the exact right time, temperature and amount...it was absolutely perfect. With no fuss, and no help.

SO impressed.

9. Eating Christmas Dinner. 

The food was delicious, I cannot say it enough. But my favourite thing about the dinner was the company. Like the fireworks, the entirety of the dinner was spent making fun of each other. There was one point where Scuttle made a joke so funny that Dopey is lucky to be alive. You know that scene in Mary Poppins where  Uncle Albert's laughing so much he goes a funny colour and they're all a bit concerned about him? Yeah, it was just like that.

That moment was the most Christmassy I've felt this year and it could not have happened without these amazing people around me.

10. The moment I opened my Christmas Present.

I opened it on my own. On Boxing Day. I feel far too much pressure opening presents in front of people; I always end up doing a fake, over-the-top happy face when I really am happy, but feel like my actual happy face isn't quite happy enough....do you get that too?

For those of you who didn't hear my squeals on Boxing Day I am going on an actual cruise to the Bahamas next month- could I ever have made a face happy enough?!


So here we are, in three days time it will be 2014, my first (and only) Christmas away from home will be over, I'll be hitting up the gym 8 times a week (I won't), and my American Adventure will be coming to an end.

I wrote last year that I honestly believed that 2013 was going to be the most exciting, adventurous, magical and wonderful year so far.

It far exceeded that.

Right now I have absolutely no expectation for 2014....except that I'll be home for Christmas :)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Two days ago I celebrated my first ever Thanksgiving. I spent the morning at work; serving beautiful, excited families that made me miss home. Then I came home from the freezing cold to my warm, cosy apartment where my gorgeous roommate had left a Pumpkin Pie for everyone to try. I had a hot bath to get the feeling back into my frozen toes and got ready to go next door for Thanksgiving dinner with some of my favourite people.

Once I was settled with a chair and a drink I had a slight worry that someone was going to get us all to go around and say what we were thankful for. I knew that when it came to me I'd say something ridiculous like peanut butter cups (of course I am hugely grateful for peanut butter cups but I'm not totally sure that's the kind of thing you're meant to say at these gatherings), and I think that might sound ever so slightly rude and ungrateful when I'm surrounded by these amazing people, eating a delicious, home-cooked meal with Harry Potter playing in the background.

But I have far too much to be grateful for. If I had listed everything that I have to be thankful for we would still be sitting there now.

So last night, when I was discussing this fact with my roommate and deciding exactly what I should mention here, she said that I should be thankful for November.

I think she's right. If I were to write to you now about everything that I am thankful for this year, you would never get to the end. But a lot of amazing things happened to me in November- I may even go as far as to say that it's been the best month of the year so far- and I am so thankful for every single day of this month. Here are my favourites....

1. Bonfire Night.

So much happened on Bonfire Night this year that I don't even know where to start explaining how brilliant it was. I arrived at work at 11.15 am to find that a whole party had been set up. There were buffet tables set up with delicious hot food, drinks and- my ultimate favourite- bakewell tarts; there were tables decorated in UK colours and covered in scarecrows to be burned, there were special Mickey-shaped UK pins to be worn for the day and kept as souvenirs, and to top it all off, a very enthusiastic cast member- one of the best people that I work with, in fact- explaining the story of Guy Fawkes to anyone and everyone that walked by. Everyone was in good spirits and the day flew by in a whirlwind of confused Americans and an excellent quiz that was clearly written by a confused American, for confused Americans, about a UK tradition (including questions such as what is English for goodbye?).

That evening I fulfilled every 90s kid's dream by watching Hanson in concert in the pouring rain (I'm not sure whether the rain is in the dream but I feel like it only added to the experience), then went to Magic Kingdom to experience Disney Christmas for the first time ever.

I cannot explain how magical it was.

When I first walked in it felt like we were pretending-the weather was relatively warm and time has gone so quickly that to me it still feels like August- so to be looking at Christmas lights was surreal. Then it got later. We went into Starbucks for Christmas-flavour drinks and came out into what was by now a fairly cold evening. I snuggled into my hoody, took a sip of my Peppermint Mocha and looked up at the lights again.

Suddenly they were real and it was the most magical I'd felt my whole programme.

I am so thankful for the fact that I was given the opportunity to work for the best company in the world for a whole year, and I'm thankful that every single day exceeds expectations. 

2. Book Of Mormon

Those of you that know me well will know that my favourite musical is Avenue Q. I have been to see it more times than I can count (actually that isn't true. I've been to see it six times. I can count to six).It never gets old. So when Dale got tickets to see a show made by the same people I was more than excited- despite his protestations that it was far too rude for me.

I will admit it was rude. Not ruder than Avenue Q just rude...in a different way. It takes quite a lot to offend me and even my eyes were wider than saucers at one point.

It was amazing.

If you haven't seen it (and you're not easily offended), please go. But please don't make my dad's mistake.

I'm going to make this very clear, for those of you on the same page as my father.

Book Of Mormon is written by the same people that wrote Avenue Q. It is not the same show. 

They are not similar in any way other than that they are made by the same people and are both quite rude.

Here's how the conversation with my dad went the day after I saw it:

Dad: I saw that you wrote on your brother's Facebook that you saw Book Of Mormon. Bit like Avenue Q wasn't it?

Rebecca: Mm it's nothing like Avenue Q really, I just wrote that it's more offensive than Avenue Q.

Dad: Oh okay. So do you think you'll go and see that five more times?

Rebecca: No, why?

Dad: Just you went to see Avenue Q about six times didn't you?

Rebecca: Yes, because Avenue Q is my favourite show. I loved Book Of Mormon but it's not the same show. 

Dad: Oh okay. So is Book Of Mormon puppets too?

I am so thankful that my dad continues to make me laugh even from this far away. 

3. Osbourne Lights.

So when I met Dale in June one of the first things that he told me was that he was excited for the Hollywood Studios Christmas lights. He's spent Christmas here before and they were one of the highlights for him. Which means that these lights had been built up for me for five whole months before I finally got to see them. On the day that they were finally turned on, I went to the park by myself while he was at work and spent the afternoon buying hot drinks to keep warm, watching the Beauty and the Beast show and drawing Tigger in the animation class. On coming out of the class I bumped into my very own Tigger, one of my best friends here, and spent the next hour wandering the park with him until it was time for him to settle down for the lights and for me to meet Dale.

It was really cold that night- something that I greatly needed to feel Christmassy and therefore massively appreciated.

As we were stood in the cold, surrounded by the huge crowd of people that had gathered in the mock-Streets-of-America, I felt like I really could have been in a busy city. The streets themselves are so realistic but filled with real, tired, cold, excited families, blacked-out Christmas decorations and loud music, it could have been any Christmas-light-switch-on across the globe.

Until it started.

First it started to snow, and despite the ridiculous man next to me shouting 'it's not real snow, it's fake' unnecessarily and repeatedly in my ear, it was magical.

Then the lights came on.

You know how you can see where the lights are before they come on?

I had thought I could see them all.

I was wrong.

They were everywhere. 

And they danced to Christmas songs, in the snow, in front of real families in the freezing cold. I loved it.

I am so thankful that I'm spending Christmas in the most magical place on earth. 

4. Discovery Cove

Around a month ago I happened to bump into Ariel on the bus and she explained that her family were here. She told me that, obviously- being Ariel, she was going to take her cousins swimming with dolphins. When I exclaimed that I was sure that would be brilliant, she asked whether I would like to go with them.

I accepted. Swimming with dolphins and Ariel has to be the dream surely?

It was fab.

We spent the day eating far too much, laughing far too hard and seeing things that we never thought we would see.

We swam with a gorgeous dolphin named Latoya. The experience was absolutely fantastic and one that I will never forget, but it wasn't the only amazing thing about the  day. We got to swim in a pool of every creature that you see in Finding Nemo (except sharks), we held and fed birds, we saw otters, we even managed to just lay in the sun and relax for a while.

This day was a real dream come true and I am so, so thankful that I was lucky enough to experience it. 

5. Gingerbread House.

A couple of weeks ago when I got to work one of the girls that I work with asked me whether I had plans that evening. I actually did have plans but they were super boring so I decided not to admit to them and knew immediately that I had made the right decision when she invited me to the Grand Floridian to have dinner and see the life-size gingerbread house that they have there.

The gingerbread house was amazing. It was perfect. I once wrote a story about a Princess who accidentally ate her house- I like to think that her house might have looked like that. It even had smoke coming from the chimney.

But actually, it wasn't the highlight of my evening. The best thing about that evening was that I was with some of my favourite people from this programme. I cannot believe how lucky I am to have met the absolute superstars that I work with here- so this is me being ever-so-slightly cheesy and being so thankful for the wonderful people that I have been lucky enough to meet and spend time with this year. 

(I also feel that I should mention that last month I explained that I, unfortunately, find the Japanese accent nothing short of hilarious and that my friend Fix-It Felix only encourages this. Fix-It Felix was with me on this particular night at the Grand Floridian and of all the servers, in all of Walt Disney World, we had a Japanese one. I am embarrassed by my own inability to stay poised during that dinner and I apologise.)


6. This time ten years ago I spent a lot of my time discussing the future holidays that I was going to take with my best friend and our boyfriends.

We used to spend our Geography classes planning exactly where we would go, what we would do, who would drive and what it would be like.

We didn't actually have boyfriends at the time, but this plan was for when we were really, really old like...eighteen or nineteen maybe.

I still have a really clear image of the trip we had planned.

I would be driving a silver fiesta, wearing a pink velour tracksuit with my gorgeous boyfriend beside me (James who I sat with in Science and who I had held hands with once at a disco in year seven and so was definitely going to end up marrying). My best friend would be in the back with her boyfriend (Ant who I also sat with in Science- she actually had his number so they were already semi-serious when we were fourteen), we would stop every now and then for food on the drive (I can only assume to France, I'm not sure we would have planned to drive anywhere else....). Actually that's as far as the dream got. I'm not sure I ever pictured the actual holiday.

Anyway, I am sorry to tell you that this is one dream that never came true. By the time we were nineteen I was in Coventry and my best friend was in Hertfordshire, both without boyfriends or money for holidays.

Then last week the vision almost came true.

Unfortunately my best friend now lives in Saint Albans with her lovely boyfriend (not Ant, if you were interested), and I'm on the other side of the water.

But I did find myself hopping in a car to go on holiday with one other girl and two lads. Sadly the car was not a silver fiesta but some big American car that the boys got really excited about. Thankfully I was not wearing a bright pink, velour tracksuit but just jeans, boots and a jumper. Luckily I was not driving, but in the back where I belong when it comes to foreign roads. The other girl was not my best friend from home but Lilo, a beautiful, mischievous, funny girl from work; the boys were not James and Ant but Dale and Scuttle- far older but far better looking and entertaining.

As we drove along the roads of Tennessee I couldn't help but think of that dream and the fact that it was almost coming true.

I could write a novel on how much I loved Tennessee. In fact, I could write a novel just on the funny things that Scuttle said while we were away. But I won't bore you with too many memories, just a couple of highlights....

1. The Itinerary.

Two days before we left, Dale sent the three of us a minute-by-minute itinerary for the trip, including '10.55: Enjoy a leisurely breakfast or a hearty lunch', and '23.00: Lights out! Get some rest for the excitement that awaits the following day.'

2. The Hotel.

Scuttle and Dale had convinced Lilo and I that Dale had accidentally booked the wrong hotel (The Smokey Creek Motel- would you be excited to stay there?) and there was only going to be one bed. Dale was actually quite convincing and, until Scuttle got involved, I had believed that we were going to have to make a bed out of blankets on the floor.

As we were driving along a road surrounded by restaurants, bars and hotels, discussing absolutely nothing to do with the hotel or finding the place, Dale suddenly pulled into a beautiful hotel saying 'We're so lost, we'll have to ask in here.'

Scuttle followed that up with 'Wow, I bet it's really expensive to stay in this place', in a kind of Hollyoaks-style of acting.

Lilo slid down in her seat, stifling giggles and mouthing 'do you think we're staying here?', whilst Scuttle proceeded to talk and talk and talk some more about how lost we were and how it could be hours until we found the hotel.

Dale came back to the car and said he had directions. He proceeded to continue to drive around the same hotel, still adamant that we were staying at the Smokey Creek Motel, and eventually pulled up outside a room and walked in, leaving Lilo and me in the car. Eventually they both appeared at a bedroom window grinning like Cheshire Cats.

The hotel was beautiful.

3. The Coffin.

On the first night we went to an amazing dinner show about two families at war. Outside they had silly props for funny photos for everyone to take. One of the props was a stand-up coffin. Lilo went first. She stood in it with her arms across her chest and her eyes closed- you know, like almost every human you know would do?

Dale gave me his phone and asked me to take a picture of him in it. Then, without any introduction, he turned to Scuttle and asked him to lift his feet while he climbed in upside down.

Dale is the only person I have ever met that would automatically do that.

Unfortunately he wasn't quite as graceful as he'd hoped, he ended up trapping his fingers underneath his head and crying out in pain while we took pictures and laughed.

4. Dollywood

Dollywood (Or Dollyland as my dad likes to call it) is Dolly Parton's theme park in the Smokey Mountains. It has amazing rides, shows, stores and food and left me feeling super Christmassy. One of the highlights for me was the first rollercoaster.

Maybe highlight isn't the right word.

I'm not a particularly big fan of rides but I had been assured that it wouldn't be that bad- Dolly would have to ride all the rides to check she was happy with them and she was 67 years old- how bad could it be?

Scuttle- theme park enthusiast and expert- came off shaking and saying it was the scariest ride he had ever been on.

I know, I'm a hero.

5. Free Stuff.

On the first day as we were driving from lunch to our hotel we drove past a chair lift and decided to park up and see how much it would cost to go on it. (Okay for the others to go on it, I never had any intention of putting myself through that). In the end it was too expensive so we decided to let that go and instead had a wander along the high street. Somehow we ended up in a courtyard full of wooden rocking chairs where a band were playing. The band had the most beautiful accents when they spoke, and there was free popcorn, hot chocolate and alcohol going. That might have been the best half an hour of my life.

I am so thankful that I get to spend the majority of my time with the best person I have ever met, and that I was lucky enough to go away with such hilarious company. 




And so I'm back to my first thanksgiving....

I spent thanksgiving with some of the kindest, funniest, most thoughtful people I have been lucky enough to meet. We spent the evening laughing, eating and putting the world to rights, and I am so thankful to have this gorgeous home away from home. 

We spent the rest of the night in the Black Friday sales rolling our eyes at people queuing for H&M four hours before it opened, squealing at the discounts (okay that was just me), and spending all of our hard earned money.

I am so thankful for Abercrombie and Fitch discounts. 

Happy Thanksgiving :)

Your Heart Will Lead You Home

Now I'm not totally sure whether there are any of you left in the world that were not aware, but on the off chance that you're not, guess what? Two weeks ago my mum packed up all the chocolate buttons and Percy Pigs that Virgin Atlantic would allow her to take onto a plane and hopped aboard flight VS015 to Orlando to visit her favourite (and only, in fact) daughter!

Having had a relatively dramatic goodbye at the airport eight months ago, my mum had warned me that she was likely to cry when I saw her again. 

'Oh no!' I had said aloud when I read her text, rolling my eyes as I did so, 'that's ridiculous, I hope she doesn't cry.'

So as my taxi pulled up to our hotel alongside the coach that I thought she was probably on, I explained the situation to my driver. Well, kinda. I managed the words 'I'm about to see my mum again for the first time in....' before the sobs started. 

That's right. It was me that cried.

He turned round, smiled at me and said 'It's okay Rebecca. You can cry. It's a big deal.'

Managing to compose myself, I hopped out of the taxi and shouted a dramatic (and probably unnecessary) 'Muuuum' across the hotel lobby. She didn't hear. So I grabbed my things and did a little excited trot toward her and my grandparents. 

So before my family came out here to visit I had heard a lot of things from my friends and colleagues about what happens when people from home come to stay- both good and bad, and mostly expected only good things to be true. 

Fortunately for me, I was right. 

We spent most of our time laughing, I was devastated when they left (this afternoon. I am currently drowning my sorrows in a bag of chocolate buttons), and some of my favourite memories of my entire year will be from the past two weeks. 

Since arriving in Orlando I have had several conversations with different people that have ended in: 'wait, you said that to your mum?!' which have led me to believe that perhaps I have an unusual relationship with my mum. One of my friends suggested that my mum sounds more like my sister. Never have I felt that more than the past two weeks, as we spent most of our time giggling at my poor grandparents (I say poor but I do think that a. they walk into these things a lot of the time and b. it's what grandparents are for. Kind of like a rite of passage, maybe?).

So here, especially for you, are some of my favourite hilarious moments from the past two weeks....

1. The Sea World Incident. 

As those of you who have ever been lucky enough to visit the Second Happiest Place On Earth will know, before each Shamu show the hosts ask all past and present soldiers from all around the world to stand up and be applauded as dramatic, patriotic music plays triumphantly in the background.  

It's an emotional moment and magical to watch. You look across the audience with pride and admiration as you see men dotted around standing up with their hands on the hearts and solemn looks on their faces.....until...wait...'Grandma! Mum! You're not soldiers! Sit down! Oh for goodness sake.' 

Both of their faces look at me in confusion: 'But they said from the United Kingdom.' 

'Yes, soldiers from the United Kingdom. Sit down.'

2. The Very-Clean-Glass-Door Incident. 

I probably don't even need to tell this story, I think the title alone explains exactly what happened. 

For those of you who have been lucky enough never to experience it and therefore cannot work it out at all....

On our last night we were about to leave for dinner when my Grandad announced to everyone that he was closing the balcony door so that we were ready to go. 

Despite hearing, and even responding to this, my mum proceeded to attempt to go onto the balcony without opening the door again, smacking her head and leg straight into the (unfortunately very well polished) glass. You couldn't make it up. 

3. My Criminal Mastermind Grandparents. 

I've heard that you learn a lot about people when you go on holiday with them: this is one trait that I never expected to find in my sweet Grandma and Grandad.

One morning my Grandad knocked on the door between our adjoining rooms (something that Disney assumed we would want, not something that we asked for), to ask if I wanted any milk for my cereal. As he asked he held out two of the free creamers that the hotel provide for coffee and tea. 

Good idea, I thought. Take an extra couple of those to put on your cereal in the morning. 

Before I could respond he added 'here you are, take some more', and proceeded to empty his pockets of what I can only assume was Disney's annual allowance for creamers. 

Later that day, we were in a park when something was spilt (probably hot chocolate. In a rare moment of self-effacing I will admit that I spent more time throwing hot chocolate over myself and others this holiday than I did on rides and eating combined), when my Grandma pulled one of the hotel flannels from her bag and began cleaning with it. 

My first thought on both of those occasions was that you can get away with it when you're grandparents, but my mum soon very wisely pointed out that The Schumachers didn't. (Those of you struggling to understand this reference need to go and watch Dirty Dancing. Right now. Don't even worry about finishing this post. That's more important.) 

(Also I feel obliged to point out that my Grandma did return all towel items belonging to Disney to the hotel. Thank you.) 

4. The Hand-Clapping, Leg-Slapping Incident. 

As those of you who have ever had family visit will know- it can be quite stressful. My family are probably the most laid back, happy, go-with-the-flow, easy-to-please people I know. Any stress that I  felt was most certainly caused by me. But when you've left them to go and live somewhere else for a year- somewhere that you love so much that you've made it clear that you would happily never come home again, there's a lot of pressure to impress them. I wanted them to love it as much as I do and to understand why I've made some of the decisions that I've made. Which is why when I took them to the Hoop-Dee-Doo Revue, a dinner show that is one of my favourite things in the whole of Disney World, I wanted them to like it. It was one of the most expensive things that they did while they were here, it took up one of my lovely Danish visitors' few evenings and it's quite American and very silly so I didn't want them to be unimpressed. 

The second time that I saw it I was joined by a group who had never seen it before and I struggled to judge whether they were enjoying it or not (it turned out that they were but only after about the first twenty minutes, which made me even more nervous for my family's reaction). 

We went in and sat down, met our server and the lovely chef (because my family were lucky enough to be joined by Dumbo that evening who is vegetarian so needed to discuss her meal choice. From now on I will always be vegetarian at Hoop-Dee-Doo in the hope that the chef there could become my green card), ordered our drinks and took in the surroundings. 

When we had finished our appetisers the music began, telling us that the show was about to start. I turned to my mum to tell her that our server was trying to take her plate and to check that she was okay so far, and the memory of what I saw will keep me smiling on my most miserable days. 

There was a reason that the server couldn't take her plate. 

She was clapping her hands, stamping her feet and nodding her head so enthusiastically that the poor server was frightened of being knocked out. Her face was lit up with glee (I wouldn't often use the world glee but I feel it's the only one good enough here), and, as I looked around the table, so was everybody else's.

5. The Soarin' Incident.

Soarin' is Epcot's most popular attraction, appealing to guests of all age, gender, background and experience. It is described by Disney as providing guests 'with a scenic aerial tour of California.' It's a calm, gentle float over California, appealing to all of the senses with what I always think of as Harry-Potter-style music over the top.

My mum managed Tower of Terror (described as an 'accelerated drop tower thrill ride'), Rock 'n' Roller Coaster ('an attraction for fans of cutting edge thrill rides'), and Space Mountain ('high speed journey into the darker reaches of outer space') with absolutely no problem all, but spent the first thirty seconds of the 'gentle float over California' screaming like a banshee.

6. The Husband Incident.

Six months ago I had what I like to call my Miranda-Moment. If you've seen Miranda you will totally understand why, if you haven't- you definitely should- but I think you'll still find the story funny.

I was in the queue for the changing rooms in a clothes store near where I live when the attendant began speaking to me. After establishing that I was from the UK he pointed to the (very attractive) man behind me in the queue and asked 'so are you and your husband having a good time?'

At this point I obviously should have quietly informed him of his mistake, given him a reassuring smile and gone to try my dress on.

But I was having a Miranda-Moment.

So instead I turned to look at the (very attractive) man behind me in the queue and said:

'Oh he's not my husband! No! Ooh I wish he was, he's lovely. He's not though. Not that I mean. Well. I have a boyfriend. But I'm only 24! Faaar to young to be married. Anyway. Um. I think I'll just leave the dress. Thanks. Thank you. Bye.'

(The 'bye' was accompanied by a girlish wave and coy smile at my would-be husband.)

How embarrassing.

Anyway. The reason I'm telling this story now is because I was back at that shopping centre with my family last week and was telling that very story before we returned to that store.

When we arrived at the changing rooms and were waiting for a free cubicle, another very attractive man had locked himself out of his while he was parading in his new clothes and was being helped back in by the- this time female- attendant.

After she had let him back in she turned to me and said 'he looked gorgeous, didn't he?'

Before I had time to reply, she continued, 'he is your husband, isn't he?'

Thankfully, I had learnt my lesson the first time and managed to very gracefully explain that he wasn't (before sharing a look with my mum that said- wish he was though!).

I therefore now wholly believe that I will meet my husband in that store, and will be dividing all my spare time between those changing rooms and Hoop-Dee-Doo. 

7. The Fish-Of-The-Day Incident. 

I mentioned above that my family were lucky enough to be joined by Dumbo at Hoop-Dee-Doo, but they were also lucky to be joined by Dale on several occasions and Tigger once too.

The Fish-Of-The-Day Incident occurred when Tigger was out for dinner with us and I am so grateful that he was there to witness my family at their most natural and most funny. 

So, picture the scene. 

Our server, Nancy, is spieling the menu to us like the professional she is. 

"Our fish of the day today is Pan-Seared Salmon, it comes with lemon sticky rice, fresh green beans and is topped with mushrooms, it is absolutely delicious, I cannot recommend it enough."

Tigger: 'And how much is the fish of the day?' 

Nancy (having misheard slightly): 'It's pan-seared salmon, it comes with-'

Tigger: 'Sorry, I meant how much does it cost?'

Nancy: 'Oh, I'm sorry! It's 21.99.' 

Grandad (as though it's a totally new topic): 'And could you tell me what the fish of the day is please?' 

8. The Creme Brulee Incident. 

This story is the last I will tell you just now and is actually the story of why you can't take me anywhere. 

On this occasion my family were joined by Dale (we did spend some time alone, I promise), we were at a Disney resort restaurant and were being served by a giant of a man named James. 

By the time we were ready for dessert James was clearly too busy so we were instead greeted by Nikita. 

Nikita was from Japan. 

Now before I go on with this story I need to make a few things clear. 

Firstly- anyone who has ever been to see Avenue Q with me (lots of people, I've seen it far more times than is socially acceptable), or has ever worked with me alongside Fix-It Felix will know that I find the Japanese accent nothing short of hilarious. 

Secondly, the reason I find it so funny is my own immaturity. I cannot speak Japanese and if I could I have no doubt that I would speak it with an equally funny accent. Probably on par with my English-speaking-Spanish accent. 

Please nobody take offence. I am a nice person. 

So, first of all I had this inane grin because Dale made some comment (so that only I could hear) about James having lost weight. 

Then Nikita began to speak and I had an even bigger grin imagining Fix-It Felix (who shares my love for the Japanese accent) being there and what his reaction (and later impression) would be like.  

Then Nikita recommended the Creme Brulee. Now I don't know if you've ever heard a Japanese person say Creme Brulee but I'd like you to take this moment, please, to imagine it. 

By this time I was holding my breath and hiding behind my menu in an attempt to avoid embarrassing my family and- more importantly- Nikita. 

When she left I was genuinely concerned for my breathing I was laughing so much. You know when there are so many tears running down your face you could actually be mistaken for crying? Your tummy hurts, your chest hurts. I actually haven't laughed that much for as long as I can remember. 

None of my family laughed. 

Dale was actually wearing an expression of nothing short of disgust. 

Fix-It Felix thought it was hilarious when I told him and has continued to provide me with re-enactments ever since :)

Now my family's trip here wasn't all making-fun-of-each-other and embarrassing-everyone, at the risk of sounding like a Walt Disney World advert, we did actually have some truly magical moments...

1. Cupcakes. 

When the cashier at the Animal Kingdom Quick Service saw our Family Reunion Badges she gave us no hint at all that she was going to provide us with free cupcakes. The food then came out with beautiful cakes and a receipt with *magical moment* written on. It was probably nothing to her but it was amazing to us and I'm sure we'll be talking about it for years to come. 

Equally magical (though slightly odd) was the free dessert that my grandparents were provided with at another Disney restaurant to congratulate them on their anniversary. Where they got the idea that it was their anniversary we don't know, but we didn't argue....

2. The Lion King. 

I have raved and raved and raved some more for eight months to my family about how amazing The Festival of The Lion King in Animal Kingdom is. It's my favourite thing to do in the whole of Walt Disney World and in my humble opinion they will never beat it. So, like Hoop Dee Doo, I felt a lot of pressure for my family to love it as much as I do. 

I spent the whole time stressing that they wouldn't enjoy it because we had an annoying, noisy child in front of us, or because of the woman whose Mickey ears were blocking the stage. At the end, I turned to my mum and asked what she thought. 

Eyes filled with tears, she squeaked 'I can't talk right now', and gulped down an entire bottle of water. 

Same reaction as me then. 

3. Meeting Belle.

Belle is my mum's favourite character. Meeting her was one of the first things we did on the first day of the holiday and it was probably one of the most magical moments I've experienced since moving here. She made a huge deal of the fact that it was a family reunion, asked us plenty of questions and- to seal the deal and make her officially the best character we met- told us that my Grandma reminded her of Mrs Potts. What a brilliant judge of character Belle is.

4. Fantasmic. 

We planned our whole day around seeing Fantasmic. It is my favourite firework show here and I wanted them to see it the way that I saw it the first time: I had absolutely no idea what it was, I just went in and sat down right in the middle (perfect seats) and watched it with no expectation whatsoever. 

Somehow, at the last minute, our plans went wrong. 

We could only get standing positions to watch it- right from the side, squashed between lots of been-in-Disney-all-day, tired, fairly smelly people. 

We decided to return the next day and wait for an hour for a middle, seated position. 

It was totally worth it. 

If only for the tears in the eyes of my normally sensible, composed Grandma. 

5. Meeting Buzz and Woody. 

You know how you get a little tear watching the Disney ad where the little girl meets Cinderella for the first time and she's so overwhelmed and starstruck? (Okay, well I do.) That's what my mum meeting Woody was like. I thought she was going to burst into tears. She didn't, and I'm thankful for that, but it was magical all the same. 

6. Right words, right time.

On our last morning I was wearing my beautiful white dress when I threw hot chocolate all over it in front of a very busy canteen. I was tired, emotional, embarrassed, soaking wet, boiling hot and annoyed.

You know when you have those moments when you think: if I cannot do something as simple as this without it being a disaster, how useless am I?

It's normally sleeping through my alarm that causes that thought in my head, but on this occasion I kept thinking: why can't I just wear a white dress like a normal person without it being something to worry about?

I had to go back upstairs and change, wash my dress out then carry it around in a plastic bag for the rest of the day and whip it out into the sun every time we sat down anywhere. Then I left it in a restaurant and had to get a bus back again to pick it up.

When I told my Grandad he said: 'I'm glad I'm not the only one that does things like that.'

Those words might seem simple and obvious now but at the time they meant the whole world.

Immediately I was reminded that I'm human, and my self-esteem began to rise again.

Just like magic :)

I like to think that you will be able to tell that I had the most amazing time whilst my family were here and I would happily keep them here for as long as I stay...

...but as long as I'm having to live without them, there is nowhere I would rather be.

I sighed as their coach pulled away to take them to the airport, and with tears in my eyes said 'back to reality.'

So I hopped on a bus and went back to reality.

I went for ice cream at midnight with Dale, then the following morning to Epcot to work with the wonderful cast of Walt Disney World, then to Italy for dinner, America for a Boyz II Men concert and France for wine with five of the most beautiful, funny girls I have ever been lucky enough to meet.

One day, not too far from now, I'm going to have to return to a different reality. One that doesn't involve eating round the world, meeting Princesses or dancing under the moon with the Mad Hatter (that did happen once, but that's a story for another time).

That day is one that I have been dreading for eight months.

But seeing my family again was a little reminder of how wonderful that reality can be too.

Climbing into bed with my mum in the morning to tell her about the night before, laughing with my cousins about the fact that Grandad gets more dinner on his chin than in his mouth when we're round there for tea, or grabbing my brothers and hugging them for no reason at all other than that I got a little rush of love for them when they walked past in their jammies and bed hair are all part of an amazing reality too.

So for now I will make the most of midnight ice cream, spontaneous Wishes and random concerts, but I will stop making depressed faces when anyone mentions February, and start to look forward to the time that I'm once again reunited with my wonderful family.

Aren't I lucky? :) 

The Bare Necessities....

A few weeks ago I found myself wandering down Main Street in Magic Kingdom, eating an ice cream and deciding whether or not to stay for the evening's fireworks. Having more or less decided to leave so that I would be home on time for a night out, I caught eyes with a lad around my age standing with his family. 

I did what any British person would do and immediately averted my eyes and continued down the street. 

Until I caught eyes with him again. 

And again. 

The third time he stopped me. 

'You can't catch eyes with me three times and keep walking. We have to talk now.' 

So we did. We introduced ourselves and chatted easily for a while before he introduced me to his entire family and invited me to watch the fireworks with them. I spent the rest of my evening with these people- hearing about their holiday and telling them about my adventures here. I had a brilliant time and will remember it as one of my favourite evenings in Magic Kingdom long after I leave. 

On relaying this story to my friends later (in the taxi for the night out that I still managed to make- it was clearly meant to be), I was greeted with exasperation. 

'How do you always end up in these situations?' 

People say that to me a lot. 

In fact, in the last couple of weeks I seem to have got myself into 'these situations' more than ever....

1. Last Friday I wandered into Guess (the clothes store. My mum was most confused when I told her this story without explaining that fact), and in the ten minutes that I was in there, four members of staff introduced themselves to me and told me they would be around if I needed anything. At the time I was most flattered, but I returned this week with male company and got even more attention from the male staff so I think I can confirm that they really are just very efficient. 

Before I left, however, the first staff member came over and gave me a brief summary of his life before adding me on Facebook and inviting me to the cinema. I went back this Friday and saw him again. I think we might actually be real life friends. 

2. I spent yesterday morning running around the Premium Outlets looking for a bright red beanie to complete my Where's Wally? costume for Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party. How else would I want to spend my Friday morning? 

Now the very helpful lady in Icing sent me to Dress Barn, where an equally helpful lady sent me to Guess Accessories, where a very glamorous lady sent me to American Eagle, where a lad far too cool for his own good sent me to Oakley, where a very good looking man sent me to Hurley. 

Which is how I ended up walking into Hurley trying desperately not to look in any way intimidated by the five bored-looking Backstreet-Boy-Clones standing at the entrance ready to greet anyone that was willing to step into their empty store. The second the 'hello' was out of my mouth all five of them wanted to hear my life story. Where was I from? Why was I in Orlando? Did I like it? How long would I stay? What did I miss about London? Did I go the the Royal Wedding? Could I say Harry Potter for them? The usual excited questions. 

Having answered all of these I continued my search for a red hat before making my peace with the fact that I had reached yet another dead end. As I was walking toward the exit Backstreet-Boy-Clone-Number-One approached me. 

'Can I ask you an awkward question?' 

I'm not a particularly awkward person. And as an English girl living in Orlando I'm used to weird questions. 

He asked me to record his voice mail message so that any callers would be greeted with my beautiful dulcet tones. (He didn't use those words. I did. Is that weird?) 

After a couple of practices I happily obliged and by the time I had spent far too long speaking to him (I was, after all, on a very important mission), we had planned our beach wedding and Bahamas honeymoon so that I could get a green card and work in entertainment for Disney for the rest of my life. Wonderful. 

He wants me to go back again this Friday. 

3. A few months ago Aladdin came bouncing in explaining that he had met a beautiful family at work that day who he had talked to for so long that they had ended up swapping contact details. They had then visited him at work a few more times on their trip and had been sad to leave him at the end of the week. 

They kept the communication between them going for quite a few weeks before he had an email to say that the parents were returning for their anniversary and they would love to see him and meet me while they were here. 

Which is how, on Saturday 27th July, Aladdin and I ended up playing grown ups for a night and going on a double date to one of the best (in my opinion) restaurants in the whole of Walt Disney World. We spent the whole evening chatting and laughing, and went from the restaurant to their hotel where we were treated to a breathtaking view of the Magic Kingdom fireworks. The whole evening was magical and memorable and one that I will treasure when I leave America next year. 

I then met again with one half of the couple for a quick catch up and a photo at Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party yesterday, and plan to let them know when I am visiting New York. 

4. This is the last time I mention Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party. Promise. Somehow last night I ended up watching the parade on my own (which didn't make it any less magical I can assure you- who knew Halloween could be the most magical time of year?!), and as I was leaving was kicked by the man behind me. He apologised immediately and explained that he had been pretending he was in the parade. Cue a ten minute conversation comparing Parades-Over-The-Years and Halloween-vs-Christmas. 

5. Tonight I was waiting for the bus home from Downtown Disney for approximately a year and a half when I decided to give in and ask the girl next to me whether she knew what time it was due. She didn't. But she did go on to tell me her life story and ask me about mine. We covered all the important topics and more and when the bus finally decided to reveal itself we had both forgotten how long we had been waiting. 

6. As I stepped onto the bus the boy behind me asked whether I had been to the cinema tonight. As soon as I told him that yes, I had, he- naturally- caught onto the accent and began to ask me all the usual questions about my life here. He then told me about himself as I positioned myself across from both the girl and the boy that I had been talking to, in an attempt to make it clear that I am not The Bus Weirdo Who Talks To Everyone. Neither, I would like to point out, were either of them. 

6. Having sat in a reasonable position- close enough to both that I could talk to them and far away enough that I could save my reputation, the lad next to me- the only other person on the bus- also commented on my accent and proceeded to ask me about an embarrassing number of London-based places/events/groups that I had never heard of. 

It probably doesn't sound like a huge deal when I write it like this but actually, for four complete strangers to be sat on a bus together and all speak as though we had known each other for years was nothing short of a miracle. It was wonderful- we've all been on the bus with the weird boy with bad breath and a mole that we can't stop staring at, who wants to be best buddies and meet up again tomorrow- but none of us were that person today. (Unless it was me? It definitely wasn't. I am doubting myself now though.) 

When the first two left the bus at their stop another girl got on and immediately began chatting to me. Again, not in a weird way but just a friendly, let's-make-this-dreaded-bus-journey-go-quicker way. 

It was at this point that I realised. Usually when I'm asked the 'But how did you get into that situation?' question, I shrug and mutter something about having no idea at all while I secretly think that it happens to everyone really, it could be anyone telling that story and the reaction would be the same. 

But today I'm fairly sure I realised exactly what it is that gets me into these situations, and why they have been more frequent than usual lately. 

As anyone that knows me will tell you (except my grandparents because they are duty-bound to believe that I am an undiscovered genius), I am terrible with technology. I can't use my laptop the way I should probably be able to, I fight with our techno-crazy payment systems at work every single day, and I absolutely do not know how to use my phone. 

Until around a month ago when I was forced into joining the 21st century by an exasperated friend, I had always used the equivalent of a Nokia 3210. Apart from the one month before I came to America in which my mum attempted to get me to use a touch-screen phone which ended in everyone I know receiving ridiculously long voice mails from me saying 'Hey it's Rebecca, I have a new phone and I don't know how to hang up so I'm just going to be on here until it cuts out. Sorry about that.' 

So far, this attempt is far more successful than my previous attempts, and, as much as I swear about it, I think this phone was a good stepping stone for me because it is fairly straightforward to use. 

Don't tell anyone I said that though. 

Now the main reason that I'm not very good with phones is that I have never had a chance to have a posh phone before. I couldn't justify spending money on a fancy phone when I was at university, and ever since then I've lived abroad on a foreign pay-as-you-go plan using the most basic phone that will accept the sim card. (Because- and this is another argument for you- old-style phones tend to accept any sim card, whereas these posh ones seem to want posh plans to go with them.) 

But I do have a second, secret reason, which my hero Miranda recently used as a reason to put technology into Room 101. 

I don't want to become one of those people. No offence. 

You probably are one of those people. Most people are. 

You know the people who have to take photos of everything? The people who go to a concert/parade/fireworks show and watch it through the camera on their phone? The people who post pictures of their dinner on Facebook. The people who spend £60.00 on a concert ticket then the entire time tweeting about how amazing it is. The people who text, whatsapp, tweet, post and snapchat when you're apart then spend the time that they're actually in your presence texting, whatsapping, tweeting, posting and snapchatting other people? 

It drives me crazy. I have to watch concerts/parades/fireworks shows through other peoples' phones because they're all I can see when I look toward the stage. I have to have half conversations with people while they're speaking to everyone else they know on their phone. 

But not only does it annoy me for me, but it annoys me for them. 

They're missing out. 

Did you know that J.K. Rowling came up with the idea for Harry Potter when she was on a train? Her mind began to wander and she started to imagine a magical place that her train could be going...

I wonder would her mind have wandered there had she been busy taking pictures of the innocent sleeping person opposite her and posting them online? 

I wonder would I ever have caught the eye of the lad in Magic Kingdom if my eyes had been fixed to my phone? Would the staff in Guess and Hurley have even bothered trying to talk to me if I had my ipod blaring and my phone in my face? Would Aladdin have made such a fuss of the wonderful family he met if the children had been glued to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on their ipad instead of being interested in the animals that he works with? Would any of the people on my bus tonight have made any effort to speak to me if I had my eyes down and music on? 

Probably not. 

I assure you I am not preaching in any way here- the only reason I didn't have my ipod on was because I lent my headphones to Merida last week and haven't had them back yet (not that I'm hinting or anything Merida), and one of the reasons I've been particularly separated from my phone recently is that I don't know quite how to use it properly (and also it runs out of battery so quickly- another point for Nokias), which is perhaps why I have found 'these situations' occurring so much more recently. 

Having said that, I have found that since I got my posh phone I have already got worse. I am determined not to turn into one of Those People but I have found myself checking Facebook when I really don't need to. And so much concentration is needed to text that when my phone does have battery I definitely do not offer eye contact to anyone. In fact I have walked right into a few unimpressed people...

The ultimate wake-up-call for me came when I found myself taking a picture of my Starbucks cup. Starbucks looks the same everywhere- why would anyone ever want to see a picture of my cup? 

Now I do understand that they are amazing for a lot of reasons too. I can take pictures of useful things now- like...well I'm not sure whether a picture of me meeting Mary Poppins is actually useful but at least it's a photo worth taking. One that I wouldn't have had before my posh phone. (Because I also don't have a camera.) It is useful to be able to get on Facebook when I'm out of the house sometimes so that I can be in contact with home or people who don't have any kind of phone at all here (ahem, you again Merida). 

But I feel like I need to strike a happy medium. 

As I mentioned earlier, my hero Miranda put technology into Room 101 for this exact reason, and she also started a campaign in her autobiography to get people communicating in and enjoying the real world again. 

So this is it. I am carrying out an intervention for myself before I become one of those people. I will enjoy technology and all its wonders- but I will also continue to enjoy the bare necessities- to look out of the window when I'm on public transport, to look at my surroundings when I'm walking (for safety apart from anything else), to make eye contact, speak to real people and make random friends in random places....and if I stick to all of those things, continue to find myself in 'these situations' and allow my imagination to run riot, maybe I'll be the new J.K......

Here's hoping :) 

So This Is Love...

For those of you who don't know and haven't guessed; when I grow up I want to be a writer and a princess. Not one or the other- both.

Thanks to my current job I actually spend a lot of time feeling like the latter- sometimes like Cinderella at the end of the film, you know when everyone calls her a Princess and people want her photograph and make her feel special- and then sometimes like the beginning of the film where she can't get anything right and can't fulfill everyone's needs quickly enough.

Using every spare minute I get to write my blog, note down novel ideas and come up with rhymes for children's stories makes me feel like I'm a writer too. Not a very successful one just yet, but a writer nonetheless.

So really, if we don't get too technical about it, I am a writer and a princess right now.

And what I have discovered in being an apprentice princess-slash-writer, is that one of the key features of both jobs is total and utter faith in love. Not just any love- not love for peanut butter cups or dogs or the way that Scottish people say 'soup'- but a certain type of romantic, unconditional fairytale love.

Now I'm warning you that this next part is slightly controversial. I apologise in advance.

A few days ago I horrified a friend by telling her that I don't believe that love conquers all.

As the words came out of my mouth her head shot up and she stammered, with a pained look on her face 'but you're a princess.'

She is, of course, right. I am a princess. So I should believe that love conquers all, shouldn't I?

Except that sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes the circumstances are just wrong. Sometimes humans do things that cannot be forgiven. Sometimes, and I hate to say it, there are more important things than just raw love.

In my world, there are generally two theories on love...

1. Love Conquers All.

So this is the one that society would have us believe you need to subscribe to if you want to be a writer and a princess. The rules are as follows:

• There is one person and only one person out there for everybody. 
• No matter what happens between you, you will end up together. 
• No matter what problems you face, you will end up together. 
• No matter what unexpected barriers pop up, you will end up together. 
• You will end up with the one for you.
• The three key words in life are 'meant', 'to' and 'be'. 
• You will live happily ever after. 

2. Love Is A Battlefield.

This one takes a slightly different, maybe more realistic stance (depending on your point of view I guess).

• It will only work out if the circumstances are right. 
• Both parties must be willing to make an effort. 
• Circumstances have to make that effort as minimal as possible. 
• Any two people can make it work-as long as steps one, two and three are all completed. 

Now as a budding writer and princess I am absolutely expected to believe in the first one- I am meant to be looking for my Prince, to believe that The One is out there and that against all odds we will end up together- otherwise how am I supposed to write happy endings?

There is actually a little part of me that does.

She sits in a little corner of my imagination, picturing the scene when I will lock eyes across a room with a man who looks vaguely like Bradley Cooper and realise I've found Him. She's the same one who imagines that the gorgeous lad that I sometimes bump into in Epcot is one day going to reveal his love for me via a flashmob, and that Pete Waterman's going to wander into The Rose and Crown any minute now and whisk me away to be a member of the new Steps. 

But as much fun as she is, I don't normally listen to her for very long.

In my experience (I know I'm only 24 but experience is the only thing I can base my opinions on), real love takes a lot of work, sacrifice, patience and luck.

Any kind of love does.

Look at the love between families. I have a lot of faith in my family's love for me. I know that I could do almost anything and still rely on my parents and brothers to love me unconditionally. But imagine if there was a theory that said you shouldn't have to work that hard at being a family? You shouldn't need work, sacrifice, patience and luck when it comes to your family because everything should just work out?

I'm not sure that my family would have stuck around.

There was the time that me and my brothers smashed a hole in the door and the glass from a picture while my parents were away, the time that my brother read the most mortifying text from my phone to my mum (it was ten years ago and I still die a little inside when I think about it), the time that I revealed to the girl that he had a huge crush on that my brother still sucked his thumb.

The time that I revealed again that he sucked his thumb at an unreasonable age in my blog. (That's this time right here, sorry Mowgli.)

I know that I have driven (and will continue to drive) my brothers and my parents crazy, and they will continue to do the same to me, but between us we'll work those things out and continue to love one another forever.

Friendship is exactly the same.

I have three best friends: Puumba, Jessie and Minnie Mouse.

I'm fairly sure they could each write a book on the times that we've driven each other insane. Imagine if we'd stopped being friends the first time we argued because there were films and books that told us that friends should never upset each other?

I can't imagine it. The past eight years would have been pointless without them.

Now I'm writing about this today because my whole month seems to have been ruled by love. Love between my family, between my friends, love surrounding me...

Everyone that I live, speak and work with at the moment seems to be having some kind of love-related drama, so I've discussed this with a lot of people and come to the conclusion that the fairytale view of love actually puts a lot of pressure on everyone. It sets expectations far too high, it makes people continue to look for love outside of their own relationship (just in case the one making you happy right now isn't The One), it makes people think about Forever instead of Right Now, and it makes people unwilling to make the effort for something that actually could work.

Don't get me wrong- I totally believe in love. I love my family and my friends, I love Disney, I love anything with peanut butter and chocolate, I love my dog, my rabbit, the Irish accent, Friends, boybands, the name Josh, anything with Jennifer Aniston in it, the Abercrombie and Fitch scent, working with children, country music, everything Italian, and anything green.

But I'm starting to think that there might be room for a princess-slash-writer who's a little bit more realistic about love. Maybe I will find The One. Maybe I'll fly home from America to find my first ever boyfriend- the one that I broke up with when I was nineteen- waiting for me at the airport, holding Love-Actually-style pieces of card revealing that he still loves me and wants to marry me, at which point I'll look into his eyes and realise that I want to marry him too- that The One for me has been there waiting the whole time!

Or maybe I won't.

Maybe I'll travel for a few more years, fall in love with more foreign food, exotic accents and eccentric music, then return home and marry someone that I have to make an effort with but who makes that effort totally worthwhile. Someone who drives me crazy but who life would be pointless without- someone who brings out in me the same love as my family and my best friends do.

So this is me introducing a new kind of princess....

...who lives happily ever after as a writer.

Despite the lack of fairytale imagination :)

If I Never Knew You....

I once worked in a building that had inspirational quotes written all over the walls. I couldn't tell you what most of them said, but there was one in particular that struck a chord and has stayed with me ever since.

I can never remember exactly how it was worded, but the basic message was that you should appreciate every single person you meet- because no matter who or where they are, you could learn something from them.

At the time that I read it I was working for a man who hugely inspired me, and the idea that he might have learnt something from me blew my mind. I loved the idea. I loved the thought that at any given moment somebody could walk into my life and change me forever. Maybe not in a huge, film-ending obvious way: not the man that I'm going to marry or the woman that's going to sweep into my life and turn me into a pop star,  but a change nonetheless.

I had a boyfriend once who told me that even if we argued, broke up and never spoke again, a little piece of each of us would have been created by the other. That thought, like the quote, has stayed in my head ever since- what a lovely idea, that every person we meet leaves a little piece of themselves behind with us.

So this quote got me thinking- about a lot of things actually- but firstly about the many, many people who have had a huge effect on me, probably without realising at all....

1. Eudora.

Eudora is one of the kindest, most beautiful women I have ever been lucky enough to meet. When I was of a young and particularly impressionable age, her daughter- the same age as me- was discussing a school friend who was working as a model. Eudora responded by saying 'well it's quite easy for most of us to make ourselves up to look decent on a Saturday night but modelling's a whole other thing. No thank you very much.'

To hear such a beautiful woman say that to her equally beautiful daughter inspired me so much that eleven years later those words still echo around my head every time I even attempt to berate myself for not looking like Cheryl Cole.

A few years later I heard another gorgeous lady refuse dessert, explaining that she was thinking about her bikini, to which Eudora laughed, took a bite of delicious looking chocolate cake and said 'mm I'll just think about your bikini too'.

I'm sure she has no idea that I was even listening, let alone taking it on as my own attitude towards eating. Funny, isn't it?

2. My Fairy Godmother.

My Fairy Godmother inspired me in so many ways that I could not possibly list them all here, but the main thing for me was how caring she was. All the time. I was working for her, she didn't have to spend all day in an office then her evenings listening to her children's nanny's personal problems. She didn't have to invite the nanny's boyfriend over for dinner and drinks, and let him stay the night. She didn't have to buy the English nanny a whole keep-warm kit when she couldn't adjust to the weather. But she did. Whilst looking after her husband and her children and her mum and her brothers, and dealing with her own problems, she looked after the nanny as though she were one of her own.

Working for Disney I see a lot of exhausted mothers who have lost their spark by the time their children are past the age of eighteen months. I hope I'm like my Fairy Godmother- and, in fact, my own wonderful mother-when I have children, and just keep getting more sparkly with age :)

3. Mrs Potts.

It was one of our first days at university that Mrs Potts first inspired me. I had just come from college- a world where enthusiasm for anything was hugely discouraged by my peers, and therefore a world in which I spent two years attempting to keep my enthusiasm under wraps. In our first meeting, on our first day, my cynical lecturer, tired from years of trying to pull students out of their habits of feigning disinterest, asked us to think about whether we might like to be on the course council.

I, like everybody else (I imagine, anyway), kept my eyes firmly on the table in front of me and attempted to look disinterested while I secretly wondered what it would involve. Mrs Potts, on the other hand, didn't attempt to hide her face, nor did she throw her hand in the air and shout that she would love to do it, like I imagine the real teachers pets do (you know like Patty Simcox in Grease?). Instead she clearly and confidently stated 'I'd definitely be interested in that.'

I watched the lecturer smile in surprise and relief at the same time as I felt a tiny bud of regret at not having reacted in that way, and a small burst of determination that from now on, I would be myself and do it with such confidence that nobody could dare argue- a trait that I have now been complimented on myself many times.

Thanks Mrs Potts :)

4. Wise Old Owl.

Just over a year ago I met Pooh's wise old friend Owl, who wandered in and out of my life in under thirty minutes and so totally changed my view of Britain and the people in it that I spent a whole summer (and now in fact a whole year) celebrating my culture. Living in America has taught me that she was in fact right in more ways than I had realised, and I think about what she said almost every day.

5. Buzz Lightyear.

Buzz is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Only today, in fact, I found myself using one of her favourite one-liners in an attempt to make friends at work laugh. It's almost two years since I last saw Buzz, and her jokes are still in my head, and still being used.

6. Guest.

This lady played such a small character in my life that I cannot pinpoint exactly who she was and therefore could not possibly give her an alias. What I do know is that she was a guest in a resort that I was working in and that she actually changed the course of my life.

She asked me what I would be doing when I returned to the UK after the summer and I explained that I had no idea. I did not plan on staying in the UK very long but I had no idea what to turn to next.

She suggested that I try working as a nanny. She told me that my experience would make up for my lack of official nanny qualifications and that she didn't think I would find it too difficult.

At the time I thought it was a nice idea but did not particularly plan on doing anything about it.

As those of you who know me relatively well will know- I have now worked as a nanny for four families. Four families who each in their own way have changed me, and will each stay with me forever. Now I turned to nannying because of what that lady said to me. Perhaps it would have come about some other way,  but perhaps it wouldn't have. Perhaps that lady, whose name and face I don't even remember, unknowingly totally changed my life.

Now these are just a few examples of the hundreds and hundreds of people that have inspired me every single day for twenty four years to make me the person I am.

What has been on my mind a lot lately, however, is how easy it can be to underestimate someone because of the setting you meet them in.

One night I was eating dinner with the children that I was nannying for at the time, their parents, and a friend of their parents. I had been perfectly polite to the friend that was there for dinner, but had made no effort whatsoever to impress and, to be honest, hadn't take much notice of him. When the children asked me to explain the difference between a hamburger and cheeseburger, I (wrongly. Oh so wrongly) told them what I thought was the correct answer.

The friend that was there for dinner was, in fact, the owner of the biggest branch of Burger King in the world. Among something ridiculous like twelve other restaurants, his own chain, a couple of celebrities and an agency.

Not my finest hour.

But at least I had been polite to him all evening.

The reason that this has been on my mind so much lately is because I now work in Food and Beverage.

Until now I have worked either for an individual family on a personal basis, or in entertainment, and despite what Dirty Dancing may suggest, entertainment staff are treated far better than those working in Food and Beverage (from a guest point of view- obviously from a company point of view it depends who you work for.)

Luckily for me and my co-workers, the fact that we are British and have British accents sets us off with a great head start. As far as the majority of our guests are concerned, I left Downton Abbey (my parents' home) to work here; leaving behind my best friends Kate Middleton and Adele, my boyfriend Harry Styles and my part time job as Dr Who's assistant, all for a year abroad as part of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts.

Which makes me the coolest person they have ever met. They want their photos with me, they want me to repeat the words 'Peter Pan' and 'bottle', and they want to know whether I prefer Pink Floyd or The Beatles. Because I obviously have a really strong opinion on that.

However, part and parcel of working in Food and Beverage anywhere in the world (I imagine, anyway) is being spoken to like an idiot. As though you yourself have never been a guest in a restaurant, have never eaten, have never been served by another person and can therefore not possibly imagine what they are going through.

Now when I worked in Food and Beverage before, I accepted that. I didn't even get angry when I was spoken to like a moron (okay there was that one time when I cried but that was an exception). I was sixteen years old, the guests were all in their eighties, I accepted that they probably did know more about my job than I did and let them take whatever else they were angry about on me.

Today, however, is slightly different.

Today I work with people who were selected from thousands and thousands to move to America to work for the third best company in the world. 

The people that I work with in Florida are truly amazing. Every single person has an incredible story to tell. Each and every one of them has had awesome life experience. They've worked as restaurant and hotel managers, team leaders, care workers, dancers, singers, entertainers, accountants, air hostesses, writers, engineers, plumbers, customer service advisors, actors and chefs; they've got degrees coming out of their ears, huge job offers in the UK, they've worked on cruise lines, they've lived in France, Spain, California, Africa, Lapland, Egypt, Italy, Greece, Turkey...

I cannot explain how wonderful these people are. They're interesting and funny and clever and have so many stories to tell.

And I watch every day as certain guests see how special they are and learn from them, are inspired by them and change a little bit because they were lucky enough to meet them.

Then at the same time I see the guests that roll their eyes and ask their wives 'Is she speaking English?', referring to the girl with the English degree as though she is the stupid one. I see guests tell Dumbo- the girl who, at only twenty-two has lived in two states in America as well as London and her own home town, who has visited more states than I can list here and knows more about the world's history than I will ever know, who is loved by everyone that takes the time to get to know her because she's possibly the nicest person ever, and who has had a letter written into the company about how they feel that she personally changed their lives with her exceptional customer service- that she's stupid and knows nothing.

I see it happen every single day to every fantastic person that I work with.

In fact, on one occasion a guest explained to me- in a rather amused voice- that her four year old curtsies at everyone. Even, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, the cleaners. She mouthed the last word as though she were swearing. Do cleaners not deserve that then?

I have a friend who worked in entertainment one year and as a cleaner the next- both for Disney- and she actually preferred working as a cleaner despite the ridiculous lack of respect from certain guests.

Anyway, the point of this is not to point out how stupid and ignorant some people are, but to point out how amazingly wonderful people are, and how we should take the time to notice that.

I love the idea that I change every day thanks to the people around me, and will continue to remember that everyone has a back story that makes them who they are today, and that I could be a part of that back story tomorrow.

I just need to make sure that the little pieces of myself that I create in other people are the best ones :)

A Very Merry (Un)birthday...

On Wednesday 30th May 2012- the day that I turned twenty-three years old- I was lucky enough to be cooked for and serenaded by my wonderful grandparents. As my Grandma lay the cake in front of me, she said the three little words that I have heard on that date every year since 1990.

"Make a wish!"

You can probably guess what I wished for, and probably already know that it came true.

That's right- I wished for a job in Walt Disney World.

Fast forward to Thursday  30th May 2013 and I'm waking up smack back in the middle of my dream come true.

Luckily for me though, the birthday magic started a few days before that...

On Monday morning as I padded out of my bedroom, stretching my back and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I noticed a small white box sitting on the sideboard.

"Happy birthday Rebecca, delivered by Tigger."

My heart leapt and my stomach did a little jump.

I ran back into my bedroom, threw myself onto the bed and began to open it, when my roommate saw me.

"You can't open that today! It's clearly for your birthday and your birthday's not until Thursday."

"Yeah I know...but the box is here today."

"But your birthday is on Thursday. Put it back."

Until this moment I honestly didn't know that there were people like this. In my world if the present's there today, open it today! Otherwise why didn't Tigger wait to deliver it on Thursday?

Still, my roommate was sitting right there so I couldn't exactly open it in front of her when she was so horrified at the idea. I put it back on the side and vowed to open it while she was at work.

For a while after that I didn't think too much about the box. I was excited to see what it was but it was obviously a present from my roommate who had been so strict about me not opening it yet.

Then I got to work, and during the quieter moments began to think about it.

What if it wasn't from her? What if Tigger really had delivered it? As someone who loves the idea of someone having been there (Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny never scared me!) the image of Tigger hopping through my apartment while I was asleep sent shivers of excitement up and down my entire body.

I pondered on all the possibilities and by the time I clocked out of work that evening I thought I would burst with excitement before Thursday.

I told the story to everyone who would listen and- to my absolute shock- was told by everyone that it was ridiculous that I was going to open it before my birthday. My protestations about it being my birthWEEK, about it being there labelled for me TODAY, fell on deaf ears.  Until I spoke to my mum. Who responded with 'Open it and tell me what it is!' Maybe it's just my family?

I also found that everyone denied any knowledge of it. My best friends, boyfriend, roommate, housemates...all claimed- very convincingly- that they knew nothing about it.

That night I raced home, ready to open it and discover what it was, only to find that my roommate was still home, and would be now until the early hours of the morning when she was due to go on holiday.

I would have to wait until tomorrow.

I went out that night (and had all kinds of adventures including crawling around on my hands and knees on a bus dressed in my America flag onesie- but that's a story for another time), and didn't get home to bed until 4.15am. I woke up at 9am- less than five hours later- and there was another box.

"Happy birthday Rebecca, delivered by Donald Duck."

I jumped around the room as though I had no control over my legs- this was too exciting. Who on earth had managed to put the box there in that unsociable-five-hour-gap?

This was real magic.

Who even knew me well enough to have done this? I'd only been here three and a half months, I honestly hadn't realised that anyone would know to do this for me.

Eternally grateful to my roommate for stopping me from opening the first box, I left the second one exactly where it was and decided I would open them on my birthday. Whoever was doing this had gone to a lot of trouble, I wasn't about to ruin it with my child-like impatience.

I woke up on Wednesday morning and ran out of my bedroom to discover....still just two boxes.

I talked about it all.day.long. 

And for the first time was working with someone who agreed that I should have opened the first one as soon as it appeared. He told me I should open them as soon as I got home from work and let him know what they were.

When I arrived home that night, there was a third box.

"Happy birthday Rebecca, delivered by Stitch."

Standing next to the box was Aladdin. Not the real Aladdin, but my Aladdin. They were from him. And despite the fact that it was now my birthday in the UK, I had to wait until the following morning to open them.

Aladdin still won't tell me how he got the boxes into my apartment at those weird hours. He insists that Mickey Mouse (the real one) organised the whole thing- that Tigger, Donald and Stitch really had crept into my apartment to leave the boxes for me, but- as always- Stitch got himself into a pickle and arrived late, so couldn't get into the front door while I was asleep as arranged. Instead, he had to wait until I had left for work and sneak in through the window. That- Aladdin tells me- is why there are two sections of my blind bent backwards.

Which is funny, because I had genuinely never noticed the dodgy section of the blind before.

Each of the boxes contained a charm for the beautiful charm bracelet that Aladdin bought me for my birthday, and each represents something magical from my life.

My 24th birthday was so wonderful, so magical and so filled with love that I could write a novel on everything that happened. But instead of boring you with every single treasured detail of that day, I'll just let you in on the most exciting ones....

1. At 5pm on Wednesday 29th May I was presented at work with a gorgeous, hand-made birthday card signed by everyone right down to the General Teller who works in the office upstairs. It was midnight in South Africa and, since that's where my gorgeous boyfriend and partner in crime is from, the logic was that my birthday had begun. It was so magical to me that everyone made such a big deal, and the fact that they hopped on board with my make-my-birthday-last-as-long-as-possible plan was amazing to me.

2. For those of you who don't know, I work with Pinocchio, and Pinocchio is infamous for his beautiful rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I had asked him to sing it to me for my birthday, but had long forgotten when he suddenly started to sing it. I looked at the time. 19.01. It was officially my birthday in the UK. It was off to a beautiful start.

3.  On Wednesday night I went to my favourite club, where I was totally spoiled with drinks, love and attention from everyone. There was one person in particular who made it extra magical and fuzzy around the edges with copious amounts of Whiskey and a seemingly endless supply of shots. That night will always remain a hazy memory of colourful drinks and his face.

And there was, of course, Drake Bell from the Nickelodeon show 'Drake and Josh' making a fuss of me which brightened my day in a way I will never be able to explain. That, paired with the fact that earlier that evening I spoke to Warwick Davis- actual Professor Flitwick, Griphook, Willow and pal of my hero Karl Pilkington- was the cherry on top of a huge, celebrity birthday cake.

4. On my birthday in 2012 I had opened my birthday presents alone in my room and hadn't seen another human being until 4pm. I really didn't want to do that again,  but as I was away from home I was concerned that it might be my only option. My roommate had gone away, Aladdin was working early and all my friends were working too. A couple of weeks before The Big Day I explained this fear to Dumbo, who told me immediately that I would not be alone. She would sort something. She and Merida arrived at my house at 9am with an array of croissants, pastries, dairy-free cupcakes and a delicious smoothie. They watched me open all of my cards and provided me with cards and presents of my own before dashing off to catch the bus to work. It was a wonderful morning and the two of them just made it perfect.

5. All of the cards and presents that I received from home were wonderful and each and every one of them will always be special to me. But there was one that I was not expecting and that has kept a smile on my face for the past three days. As many of you will know I have worked with children in a lot of different places in a lot of different jobs, but the first ever child that I looked after was when I was thirteen years old, and she was three. That gorgeous baby girl with her perfect curls and adorable dimples is now a fourteen year old Princess who was thoughtful enough to not only remember my birthday but to send a card all the way to America on time. I don't think I'll ever take it down.

6. An hour and a half later I was dancing around my room to N Sync (to It's Gonna Be Me if you're interested) when there was a knock at my door. I bounced to the front door in all my birthday excitement, threw it open and came face to face with Tigger (my friend Tigger, not the real one) holding a huge bunch of balloons with 'Happy Birthday Becca' written on them in one hand and an adorable card and promise to take me to see Blue Man Group in the other. Once again I felt my whole body want to burst with excitement at everything.

7. Tigger and I then got the bus to Animal Kingdom Lodge to see Aladdin at work before heading to a restaurant that I'd been wanting to visit for ages for lunch. The food was amazing, the service was fantastic and Tigger did not stop making me laugh. When we had finished our dinner our server brought me over a free dessert with a candle in it. It was as Tigger uttered those famous words...make a wish...that I closed my eyes and felt them fill with tears. I live in Disney World. My presents were delivered by characters. I have amazing friends and family, I live in a beautiful apartment, I have my dream job...I have nothing to wish for.

At the stern-and-impatient look that I received from Tigger I quickly found a wish to make, but you'll have to wait until June 2014's post to find out whether it came true...

8. On our way out of the restaurant our server beckoned me over, telling me that there was a phone call for me. I half frowned, half laughed as we walked past the front desk but she insisted it was for me. Wondering who on earth it could be but knowing at the back of my mind that my friends knew I was here and I had no mobile phone signal, I reached for the phone and put it to my ear.

It was Goofy. Actual, real Goofy, saying he'd heard it was my birthday and he wanted to sing to me. So he did. Can you imagine how magical that was?

9. After lunch, Tigger and I went to Animal Kingdom to do what I think is the best thing that you can do in the whole of Walt Disney World: The Lion King Show. It was, as always, spectacular, and watching it with Tigger who had never seen it before made it extra special. We then had an hour to wait until Finding Nemo the Musical started, so we went to meet Up's Doug and Russell.

As soon as Russell saw my big blue birthday badge he began jumping up and down and signalling to the character attendant. The character attendant explained- also very excitedly- that Russell wanted the entire queue to sing Happy Birthday to me. He conducted the group with his hands as they sang very loudly and beautifully to me and Doug pretended to lick my face.

I work in Walt Disney World, I know that almost every group seems to have a birthday in it: I was far from the only person celebrating a birthday that day. But what Russell did that day made me feel like I was the only person to have a birthday this year. I will never be able to explain how wonderful it was.

10. We then met up with Aladdin, Alice and the Mad Hatter and proceeded to watch Finding Nemo The Musical before moving to my favourite Disney hotel- The Polynesian Resort- to have dinner, watch Lilo and Stitch on the beach then view the Magic Kingdom fireworks. Just before the film started, one of the Resort Activity Reps asked everyone what they had been up to today. When all twelve of the people that had turned up to celebrate with me shouted 'Rebecca's birthday', the rep naturally called me to the front and made me spin like a ballerina while everyone sang to me. I won't even try to pretend I didn't love every second.

11. By the time I arrived home from the Polynesian I was exhausted. Apparently there are photos on phones of me sleeping on the bus. Someone thought it was funny.

I vowed to get ready for bed and go straight to sleep, but as soon as I saw my laptop looking invitingly up at me I thought I'd just check to see if I had any important emails (and by that I mean Facebook birthday wishes). I'm so glad I checked. On there was a video posted of Boo, the little girl that I was nannying for before I came to Disney World. But an older version of her. She was singing happy birthday to me. I miss Boo so much more than I can explain to anyone- she was my best friend and the person I spent all my time with for three months, and hearing her little voice again finished my birthday in the most perfect way possible.

12. Two nights before my birthday Aladdin let me know that I needed to keep Friday free for my present. All week I tried to work out what on earth it could be but to no avail- I had absolutely no idea at all. Friday morning came and passed- I still didn't know. Then Friday afternoon he arrived at my front door. With tickets. To Cirque Du Soleil.

I would never, ever, have guessed that that would be my present.

It was absolutely amazing. If you have never been, go.

We spent the entire night totally aware that our mouths were hanging open but unable to close them, then for hours afterwards we would just randomly say 'Ooh and the bit when...'

Fantastic.

And now it's June and the countdown to my next birthday has begun...

To every single person that was involved in this one: thank you. Everything from the wonderful video that my mum made of herself singing Happy Birthday, to the card in which my baby brother was thoughtful enough to write 'Keep It Magical', and The Lorax that my wonderful roommate thought to leave on my bed with a note in French was just perfect. I'm so grateful for everything that's happened in the last week and to every single person from all over the world who thought of me and made an effort.

So twenty-four has been the best birthday yet. Here's to the best year...