I should really buy a bed. Oh God, I sound homeless. Let me rephrase that. I should buy a new bed. I have a bed, I just hate it. I hate it so much that I always sleep on the couch in my lounge, which really isn’t the best solution because I’m annoyingly tall and don’t really fit all that well on it. Whenever I go to hotels, I’m always stunned by how comfortable a good bed is with nice sheets and pillows and bed stuff. An IKEA blanket and a couch cushion do not a bed make. I’ll have to look into this once I get home. I’ll probably have to redo my bedroom completely, but that’s alright, I don’t like it all that much anyway. It has never felt right to me.

Ermahgerd a zebra!

It was going to be 85 degrees today, so I obviously designated this a pool day. And since I wanted to look really really really ridiculously good looking [holla at the Zoolander reference] I did a bit of exercise. Ab work and some yoga and then I put on my pool attire and sauntered outside.

It was so wonderful, guys, it was so warm and so sunny and I loved absolutely everything. I loved everything but the couple next to me. They were literally putting their coordinates into an app on their phone and then moving their chairs so that they were getting optimal sun coverage. I’m not kidding even a little bit. I was disgusted, bewildered, and amused all at once. I had no idea there were tanning apps! The guy had a fit about the umbrella, he said it was going to cause unseemly tan lines on his (very large) stomach. I couldn’t take anymore and laughed aloud before heading over to the pool bar where I ordered a margarita.

I took the margarita back to my seat where I pretended I was Joan Crawford yelling at Christina to swim faster and watched the very attractive life guard walk back and forth. Do they hire them based on looks alone? I wish I couldn’t swim. I need saving.

I couldn’t spend all day by the pool, I had other pools to go to, so I went down the slide and swum a few laps. I was basically the Tom Daley of the pool.

Hard to believe, I know, but that’s not me.

I left the tanners and went back to my room, miles away from the pool, and changed for the day. I wore a tank top. I was so happy. I love tank tops. I love shorts. I wore shorts, too. I love warm weather more than most things. It makes me so happy to be warm and sweat and burn a little. I know it’s stupid, but whatever.

Me^^ after seeing living things [there’s no down arrow, what madness is this?]

I decided to spend the rest of my day exploring the resorts, which I thought would take less time than it did. It takes forever to get between these places! I first went to the Contemporary Resort and spent about ten minutes there before getting on the monorail out of there. It was awful. No soul at all. I don’t understand the layout or what you’re supposed to do. I know there’s a spa, but I didn’t find that in my brief stay.

Next up was the Grand Floridian, and I love this one. I’ve loved it ever since I first visited it, but I’ve never stayed there. It’s just beautiful and fancy and I’m fancy and beautiful and I just love it. They have a beach too around the lake and I very much enjoyed that before, but it was closed off this time. The resort is expanding and the pool area is very cramped right now, which was unfortunate.

I walked around the massive hotel for awhile, and I came across a woman, who if I didn’t see her breathe occasionally, I would have believed she was dead. In fact, I thought she was Charro. I quietly said, “Cuchi-cuchi?” as I walked by her, but she only slowly blinked. I’m obsessed with her. Her hair was obviously a wig, way too much makeup, Louis Vuitton luggage spread around her. She was fantastic.

I made my way down to the pool and tried to find a place to sit, but they were all occupied. I was going to toss the towels off and take a seat, but I wasn’t feeling particularly bold, so I abstained. I found the bar and had something called a Red Stag Lemonade–it was great. There was tons of seating here and in full sun, so I stripped most of my clothes off, rolled up my shorts and soaked up the sun. About a half hour later, I realized that I was burning. You know when your skin just feels tight? Whatever, YOLO!

I went into the restrooms to examine the damage and was surprised to discover a very hairy naked man drying himself with a hair dryer. I’m not sure why he couldn’t use a towel. (I dried myself with a hair dryer this morning just to see if I could determine why. I can’t. It took too long and gets quite hot.)

I took the monorail to the Magic Kingdom and looked for the first bus that looked interesting. The Boardwalk. I’ve always heard of a bakery there that is supposed to be very good, and since I’m a bitchy baker, I had to go examine it. The bus ride took forever, but I loved this resort from the moment I arrived. It’s so peaceful and boardwalk-y. You know what I mean.

You go past the main building and there is a large lake ringed by pools and shops and restaurants and dance halls (was that real? I’ve never been to a dance hall. I only know of Euro-Trance-Dance Halls, but that’s just me) and a beach. I leisurely walked along, having some nibbles. The bakery was closed for renovation, typical.

So, I guess their quality is still a mystery. Whatever. I kept walking along and I saw the beach and I got really excited. In all honesty, I would be perfectly happy to sit on a beach for the rest of my life stringing shells and shark teeth together and making horrible necklaces. I’d never wear a shirt and my hair would go blonde from the sun and I’d die of skin cancer and I’d die with a smile. I love it so much. The sand was marvelous.

All the pools say you need to be staying at that particular resort to use the pool, but I’m like, “No,” and just walk past the people guarding the entrance. I’ve learned that if you look like you know what you’re doing, people think you do even when you don’t. Other people were stopped. Not me. YOLO. (I’m not done with that, yet.) Nice pool, but I was crispy, so I decided I’d better head back. I was going to explore Coronado Springs, too, but I’ll save that for another day. I was hungry.

I thought I might stop at Fort Wilderness to go on a hike, but I wasn’t into it. I’d walked enough already! Besides, the weather was getting cloudy and there was supposed to be a nasty thunderstorm…that never came. Oh well. I still enjoyed my day.

Back in my room, I dramatically threw myself upon the bed and ordered room service. I pictured myself as Eloise at the Plaza being naughty while Julie Andrews, my nanny, wasn’t looking. I’m weird. I ordered everything. A half hour later, there was a knock on my door and a huge cart with all my food was there.

“Would you like a tablecloth, Mr. Phillips, sir?” the bellhop (Is that the word? What’s a lady bellhop? Bellhoppess?)

“Duh,” I thought, of course I did, but I was polite and simply said, “Of course, right in here.” I then perched myself on the couch while I watched her set up my dinner. It was too marvelous. She then scurried away and I pounced, very much like the hungry animals outside.

The tomato soup with paneer cheese was my favorite. I’m a soup person. I could live on soup. I’d be happy. I should do a soup cookbook. I love potato, tomato, minestrone, onion, garlic, I love them all! SOUP!

I ordered a side of tabbouleh because I can’t resist tabbouleh, and you know that. I remember the first time I had tabbouleh. I was on a flight to Paris, somewhere over the North Atlantic and the server handed me this sad little container of something. I was still a non adventurous meat eater back then and was not ready for this. It was gross. I don’t blame the tabbouleh itself, this was just awful airline food. I’ve learned you generally get much better meals if you order an Asian Vegetarian meal on transatlantic flight. That’s a tip for free for you.

I was disappointed in the falafel, as I was most excited for that. They just don’t know how to make pita here, which is weird, and the falafel was almost too creamy. It was different from what I’m used to. Not bad really, but nothing I’d repeat.

The chocolate mousse for dessert was marvelous. It was wonderfully chocolatey–which you don’t always get, with these weird crunchy balls (BALLS!) on top. I’m noticing these at a lot of restaurants. Is that a new trend? Where do I get them? It was plated on top of a citrus ganache and was wonderful.

Oh, and I ordered JUNGLE JUICE to drink! I love that stuff! I had it with Jessica for the first time on our safari last year. It’s a mixture of guava, orange, and something else, and is ridiculously good. I gulped it down in a few swallows. I should have rationed it out better, but YOLO. (I’ll never be over that!)

When I went to the shower, I realized that this burn is considerably worse than I had previously thought. My once beautiful chest has the tone of a cranberry. As much as I like cranberry, it doesn’t work as a skin color. This needs to go away.

I was going to go down to the gym, but then I took a nap and I’m like, no. No gym.

Good evening

That was tasty.