Official Updates...

Everything Disney affiliated will be published in purple... because WDWCP is big into purple :)

I formally accepted my invitation last night after rehearsal, and it was SO exciting! I've never been so excited for anything! Just the simple planning associated with the program... ahhhh! Normally I'm a bit more eloquent and classy with my language, but I just can't sit still or give the words I want to give! I'M GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!

My program check-in date is Monday, August 8. The tentative plan is to drive to Omaha, NE on the previous Wednesday to pick up my auntie Beep... then use Thursday and Friday to make the drive down to Florida.... meet my mom, who plans on flying down, on Saturday, spend the weekend getting my feet wet and doing some last-minute family bonding in Orlando. When Monday rolls around, my family will see me get settled in, then leave me in FLORIDA and return home to Fargo.

The program's end date is January 6, 2012 if I choose not to extend my stay. As far as return visits go... I won't be allowed to come home over Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween (I know, too cute, right?) or over the Christmas holiday... but I'm shooting for a short visit in November, we'll see.

Things are coming together! I'm overly excited! Love love love.

!!!!!!!!!

I can't believe this! It's official!! I have been officially accepted to Walt Disney World's Fall 2011 College Program!!!

I'm definitely in a daze about the entire thing. Completely NUMB. Definitely hasn't hit me full force yet that in six months time I will be a Florida resident working for the happiest place on earth!

I'll be receiving my official arrival date by tomorrow, so I'll share that as soon as I know. I also have a character performance audition in Minneapolis on March 22, so look back for more updates soon!

The impossible is possible, my life is turning around.... :)

"It's kind of fun to do the impossible."

-Walt Disney

Run, Joey, Run

I have a confession to make.

I, Emily Ann Jorgenson, am a runner. I run fast, I run from anything good or with potential to make me happy. I push people out the door with abrasive humor or advances, and if they don't walk away I make a mad dash outta there like a bat out of hell.

"But Emily... why do you run?"

THAT is an excellent question, and I have an excellent answer...

It's because I'm fucking terrified of getting hurt.

To put it bluntly, my previous relationships completely shattered my belief in loyalty in a relationship. My faith in commitment has been completely decimated, and my viewpoints on love have been completely obliterated and anally fucked without the courtesy of lubing it up with Astroglide first. Love is supposed to be something comforting, and something you desire, hope for, and embrace with open arms.

To me love is scary, because being in love allowed me to let my guard down, and feel the strongest emotion I've ever known:

betrayal.

There is a quote that perfectly describes how despicable the idea of betrayal is. It's by Steven Dietz, and I feel that sharing it is the only way to voice how strongly I feel about betraying your friends:

"One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal, though... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope."

The slaughter of hope. Destruction of the thing that keeps humanity going when times seem the darkest... and being betrayed destroys that life support.

But I digress... I am a runner. Because I've been betrayed, and I'm afraid of that feeling.

Beyond that, I run because I'm scared. I'm scared that they are going to discover that they really don't like me all that much.

I'm afraid I'm not good enough, and I don't deserve someone that treats me well.

I'm afraid of falling in love again... because love hurt so badly before.

I need to take a leap of faith.

I need to let go of my worries.

I need to relax.

I need to allow someone beneath this armor I've built around my heart.

I need to give someone a chisel to chip away at the stony exterior I've worked so hard to create.

No one's perfect, I've got baggage.

I've been contemplating the idea of love as of late. Of falling in love, of being in love, of love fading away, and of being betrayed by love. Of being controlled by love, being blinded by love, learning from love, and making mistakes with love. Of taking love for granted. Of being terrified by love.

My most recent thought concerning love? How much baggage you acquire after being betrayed and crushed by love. Jonathan Larson said it best in RENT, that no one is perfect, we've all got baggage, and we're just looking for baggage to go along with the things we carry with us. I'm no exception. Do I have baggage?

You bet your sorry ass I do.

I'm overly confident because I'm terrified of being hurt again. I can handle being looked at as an object, because no one ends up getting hurt that way... but someone kissing me goodnight is terrifying.

I have insane trust issues, and it takes a lot for me to trust anyone nowadays. After everything that's happened... I don't care how sweet or innocent you seem. I feel as if everyone is out to hurt me, I can thank David Duncan for that.

The tricky thing about baggage is how it weighs you down, convinces you that you should settle for so much less than you deserve. I feel as if because I was duped, I don't deserve to be treated with respect and cherished. The idea of falling in love scares the shit out of me. Love, the thing that ties all humanity together, someone we all aspire to, hope for, cherish, die for... it's terrifying. Give me a giant spider any day over falling in love.

A spider can bite me, or creep me out, or lay eggs in my tongue if you listen to those old urban legends from middle school... nothing a bit of medical care can't solve. But falling in love? You lose control, you lose yourself, you drown in it, bask in it, trust in it... and when it doesn't work it hurts. It fucking hurts, more than any physical injury or medical emergency I've ever experienced. I didn't know what people meant by having a broken heart, but you can feel the emotional pain manifest in your chest, as if your heart was truly and honestly breaking beneath your ribcage, crumbling into a thousand pieces, never to be the same. You can fix a broken vase, but the cracks will always be there as evidence of the trauma it went through. Those cracks are baggage. No matter how hard you try to hide it, baggage is evident, you are an open book. "I got my heart broken" is stamped across your forehead every time you entertain the idea of starting a relationship with someone, simply because the thought of possibly having to piece that broken heart back together again is fucking exhausting... and you want the world to know that you are NOT going to get hurt again. So you drag along your baggage.

My fabulous friend Jimmy Flaherty found me a quote on tumblr (which, by the way, you should all find him on and follow him... he's very enlightening) that was very appropriate for my thoughts and this very post.

"Everyone has baggage from past relationships, but the person who really matters is the one that will stand there and help you unpack."

I wonder if that's true. Only time will tell, but it seems to me a romantic ideal. If someone could actually withstand the heat of having to unpack my baggage, to understand and cope with the ideas I bring along with me from my past.... he can't be too bad. Who knows, maybe that's the type of person I need to show me that there's no reason I need to bring my baggage with me. It's nice to have the security of past ideas.... but there is nothing wrong with leaving the past behind and starting fresh with a whole new load of luggage. Gloriously empty luggage.

Magic.

Reapplied at the most magical place on Earth.

Audition is set for March 22nd.

I'll keep you posted...

Madge Owens

Theatre has been an integral part of my life from the time I was in third grade. I made my stage debut as the a Lilliputian in FMCT's children's production of Gulliver's Travels. I don't know how many of you know the story, but Gulliver is a giant in the land of the Lilliputians, a population of miniscule farmers and village people. Lilliputia is only his first stop on his journey and he continues on.

Two weeks ago, I was cast in my first show in three years: Picnic by William Inge. Hal Carter moseys into a 50s town of high morals and classy women... a world different from the one he knew. Rough around the edges, Hal falls in love with the town beauty, Madge Owens, and changes everything about who she is and the world she knows.

To be honest, I thought our director was crazy casting me as Madge Owens. She is soft spoken, delicate, and a hopeless romantic. Never biting, never rude, and completely lost in a world of rich boyfriends and overbearing mothers. I could find nothing to identify with, nothing to sympathize with. This woman, someone I have to analyze and level with... someone I'm expected to embody in every way possible, giving her a worthy portrayal, what the playwright would have wanted.

In the front of every script, there is a brief summary of each character, and when I say brief, I mean a few words summing who they are. Madge Owens is simply described as 'a beautiful girl.' She isn't given any expectations, other than her flawless face.

BUT there lies the beauty of it... as I spend more time studying and analyzing her... the more I feel connected to her. A young woman, trapped by expectations of a family, wanting nothing more to be everything that she isn't. Tired of being seen as only a beautiful face, she finds this man to sweep her off her feet... who sees more than just a pretty face. He sees that she's a real woman, not just a flawless beauty like her steady boyfriend, Alan. I can understand that feeling, of wanting more than you are. Of feeling inadequate, and feeling like what 'gifts' you do have simply can't measure up to what others bring to the table.

As the show goes on, Madge finally finds her voice and inner strength. In a well written arc, she abandons her home and follows Hal to Tulsa, away from her mother, finally listening to her heart instead of her head.

Madge Owens is everything I thought I was before I set myself free. Something I couldn't see until I was already on my way to a different way of life. She seems delicate, but has an inner strength that no one expects or realizes. She is soft-spoken, but finds her voice, finds the words to say what she really feels when the time is right. She's a hopeless romantic, but that hopeless nature gives her the strength to fight for what she wants, and gives her the courage to take the ultimate leap of faith.

As I've been expanding my social horizons into the bar scene, I feel more and more like Madge Owens... just a pretty face with nothing else to give to the world. But you know what?

Fuck that.

Just like Madge Owens, I have so much more to give than just something to look at.

Come and see for yourself.

Picnic shows February 24-26, March 2-5 at 7:30pm, and February 27 & March 6 at 2:00 at the Fargo-Moorhead Community Theatre.

"Would you like ranch, bleu cheese, or celery with your wings?"

Today marks my two year anniversary of employment at Buffalo Wild Wings Fargo South. In honor of this momentous occasion, I'd thought I'd share some of my favorite BWW stories from employees and customers alike, and a bit of advice from a, dare I say it, veteran of the food service industry for the next time you decide to go out to eat with your family....

My very first day at Buffalo Wild Wings was a Boneless Thursday, and I trained with someone named Dennise Contreras. The very first words out of her mouth were, "the one thing you gotta know about working at Bdubs is that if you do something, everyone knows. This place is dramatic, and the girls here will eat you alive." ... great thing to hear on your very first day, huh? So I went about my business at Buffalo Wild Wings, learning the ropes, getting acquainted with the staff and management, and trying to keep up with the unbelievably fast pace of this crazy bar & grill.

Once you get into the swing of things, Buffalo Wild Wings is a GREAT place to work. After my second day, I got to experience my very first Blazin' Wing, a right of passage for BWW employees at Fargo South. Being the over-confident idiot that I am, I ate the entire wing in one bite, and declined milk. I distinctly remember tears STREAMING down my face, and maintaining that it "wasn't so bad" and I didn't need any dairy assistance. Just as a side note, I had heartburn for approximately four hours after that lovely experience.

One thing I've learned from working at Wild Wings is to NEVER underestimate the stupidity of the general public. I started serving in May 2009, and within the first week I realized how genuinely stupid some people are. My third shift after completing my training, I had a table of two "gentleman" (I use that phrase VERY loosely) sitting at a table, and I served them their food, drinks, etc. without a hitch. After cashing their table out and telling them to have an EXCELLENT rest of the afternoon, I hear them start talking about the "big pink tip" they would give me after my shift was over. I may not have been next to the table, but people tend to forget that there is NOT a magic vacuum around your table, your conversation carries... especially when I'm just one table away! Ah... the joys of booty shorts and sexual harassment!

If you think about it logically, every table leaves about $5 tip on average. My rent is $335 per month, ergo I need to wait on approximately 67 tables to make my rent every month. That is sixty-seven rounds of "boneless or traditional?" "Would you like ranch, bleu cheese, or celery with that?" "Are fries okay for your side?" "Yes, I realize that Samuel Adams is brewed in Massachusetts, but that doesn't make it a domestic." "This is not Wisconsin, we don't have Busch Light on tap." "Yes, we do have diet coke... no, Mountain Dew is not a coke product. Yes, Mountain Dew has ALWAYS been a pepsi product... yes, I'm sure."

At Buffalo Wild Wings, we have fourteen signature sauces and four dry rubs. These sauces do NOT include (and yes, I have actually heard all of these before): Little Asians, Asian Zingers, Par-mee-see-an Garlic, Spicy BBQ, Mongolian, Spicy Thai, Thai Curry, Jamacian Jerk, Balls Hot, Super Spicy, Honey Garlic, Dry Heat, Spicy Vineagar... just throwing out random words in varying combinations does not create your very own, new and improved sauce option...

Buffalo Wild Wings is a born and bred sports bar. We have an ungodly amount of TVs in a relatively small space, and there are always half cocked sports fans screaming wildly at their favorite team. Last spring, everyone can recall the heartbreaking game for the trip to the Superbowl... Vikes v. Saints. This was the night of my first dine and dash... only in this case it was a "punch a SAINTS can, slip on the ice, break your femur and run from the cops" and dash. No, this is not an exaggeration. You have to be here?

One of the most distinct memories I have in my serving experience happened on a fairly recent All You Can Eat Wing Wednesday. You see, many people see this as a challenge and eat an unhealthy, inhuman amount of traditional wings and fries. One such individual fought to consume fifty traditional wings... then projectile vomited into the door of the men's restroom while exclaiming "I'm so sorry Emily!" Apology accepted ;)

Over the past two years, I have learned many life lessons from the patrons and staff of Buffalo Wild Wings... some more valuable than others.

1. Ordering a soda AND a water is obnoxious.

2. When you order a flavored lemonade, it is inevitable that everyone else in your party will want to order a flavored lemonade. And yes, they are a bitch to make.

3. You are NOT being health when you order a tender salad with extra ranch. Just because the word "salad" is in the name of your food does not make it the healthy option. Neither does the word "wrap."

4. If your ID is expired, you can't have booze. It's as simple as that.

5. As a server, I am also, apparently, a janitor... to clean up the giant piles of wing bones scattered across the restaurant. I am a babysitter/nanny.... to watch children who are clearly NOT mine and make sure they don't get burned by trays of scalding food. I am a magician... because obviously only a magician would be able to get you a well done burger in five minutes or less.

6. The life skill of beer-glass carrying and silverwear rolling. Boo. Yah.

7. Never underestimate the power of regular customers. Or booty shorts.

8. Playing SHARK ATTACK is a valid way of passing the time... it is a big deal when you beat Chzhead.

9. Kitchen baseball is a suitable way to pass the time on a slow Monday night. Yes, Monday nights are ALWAYS slow.

10. Never, ever touch your eye after carrying a boat of blazin' wings.

My coworkers at Buffalo Wild Wings have become my second family, and I would be completely lost without them. If I really want to break it down for you.. I get paid to have a social life. YES, I do have to deal with the incessant complaints of patrons who just don't quite understand why ranch has to cost an additional $0.40 on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday when it's free/included the rest of the week... but I'll take the trade off. Happy TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY to me!