Indoctrination

I went through my brainwashing today.

They called it "Traditions." I called it reprogramming.

OK, I exaggerate. For the most part, if you have been though any sort of basic training, you have been through this. The difference is mainly that there is a huge emphasis on the Disney history and on the Disney way of doing things.

Example: Disney Cast Members NEVER point with only one finger. To do so is considered rude. The Disney way consists of using two fingers to point, combined with a kind of air traffic controller motion. We also always end every conversation with a cheerful "Thank you!" and we are supposed to smile A LOT. Little things like that. The point is that everything that is done contributes to the all-around effect of "The Show."

The guys that led the session were über-examples of good Disneyites. (Admittedly they are trainers, so I guess that worked out really well for them.) I will call them Rod and Todd because...well, because it amuses me. They were both more cheerful than I have ever been in my life; let alone at 7:30 in the morning without the benefit of caffeine. Really, what is there to be really happy about at 7:30 in the morning? I'll tell you what: SLEEP! And since I wasn't asleep, I was not cheerful.

Rod, for reasons that he wouldn't disclose really, REALLY hates Matthew McConaughey. Granted, ol' Matty Boy has been paid more money to make more crap than any just Universe should allow, but it was kinda creepy. Creepy as in even Stewie Griffin would suggest taking the creepiness down a notch or two.

Todd was trying really hard to be funny--and to deflect Rod's creepy factor. If you want to know exactly what Todd was like, imagine Terry from Reno 911 and Andy from The Office had a son together. Honestly, I kept waiting for the singing or the roller skates to come out.

Much like a cult, the same concepts are drilled into your head repeatedly. Yes, I do realize the point to this, and yes, I agreed to take the job (hell, I actively sought it out), so I guess it can't really bother me all that much. I even managed to almost get out without incident. I say "almost" because it was the sexual harassment video that did me in. Yeah, shocking, I know.

It's not that there was anything special about it. If you've seen one harassment video you've seen this one--heck, it was pretty generic and I don't think it was produced just for Disney, so you may have actually seen this one in your workplace. The video features short segments illustrating forms of sexual harassment. The segment that did me in was one of a sleazy-looking manager who goes into his female employee's office to remind her that later in the day she is to go to his office for her performance review. He tells her she should arrive half an hour early because he has something she can review. She, of course, protests and tells him that's inappropriate. He then proceeds to tell her something like "Look, I can make this hard for you"...and that was it. Secret thirteen-year-old boy that I am, felt the need to say mostly under my breath, "That's what she said". Yeah, it was stupid and immature--but look, whoever wrote that either was completely clueless or had a John Watersesque sense of humor. Either way, my excuse is that I watched The Office the night before and Michael Scott made me do it.

I have to admit that even cynical me thought the way they ended the training session was pretty cool. They wait until the very end to present you with your name tag and company ID, and they have a certain famous mouse there to present them to you. (Is he really Kim Jong Mickey? He seemed rather congenial, truth be told. Absolutely no suggestion of nuclear weapons or kidnapped Japanese porn starlets gagged and bound in his basement.)

Given how many times I've applied for work there in the past, I have to admit there was a cheesy emotional moment there for me--because it did symbolize something I have always wanted. I couldn't have asked for a better start.

Getting Hired

It's funny, the things that seem like a good ideas at 3:00 A.M.

I was laying in bed watching "The Princess Diaries," wide awake from insomnia as I often am, and stressing about my bills. I was going to have to get yet another job to make ends meet. The economy had just taken yet another turn for the worse, and I was trying to figure out what work I might be able to get that would give me some decent hours...and, equally important, wouldn't be closing its doors a week after I got hired.

In Southern California, one of the largest employers is Disney. And I would lying if I didn't admit that I have wanted to work at Disneyland ever since I was a teenager. In fact, I have also applied 11 times over the years. Well, just for the heck of it I visited the Disney website yet again...and it showed that they were in fact hiring! By 4:00 A.M. I had filled out the last online form, and figured that, realistically, application 12 would soon be on its way to the circular file. I imagined I would once again get the email saying that I was not "cheery" enough for them (Me? Not cheery? The hell you say!).

No one was as surprised as I was when I actually got called in for an interview. Did I really get that much "cheerier" in the time since I had last applied? Or did the applicant pool just dwindle down that badly? I didn't know -- and either way, I didn't care.

Once in the casting center (all Disney employees are referred to as "cast"), I took yet another computerized test. It was pretty much the standard exam used everywhere now, and after passing that did a face-to-face interview. (I won't go into exactly what goes down in the interviews. For all I know it could have changed by now, and let's be honest: it's boring.) Obviously, I did get the job. And I would love to tell you that I got my dream job. Honestly, I didn't -- but I did get offered something interesting, and it was suited to my skill set. (I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare to...sorry, where was I?)

I was given a very thick packet of papers to fill out, and I had a return visit set up to turn in the paperwork, get my picture taken, etc. I and everyone else hired were given a very long, very specific set of guidelines to what the Disney Look consists of -- in short "classic" and clean cut. Since I am a pretty boring dresser (although my secret is that I ALWAYS have outrageous socks), this was not an issue for me.

BUT-- I was told in no uncertain terms that my hair, which had been a rather Ariel shade of red, would have to be changed to something "natural." I replied that my hair was "cheery." They insisted that it was a bit too cheery...oh well, it's only hair color, right?

I went home singing Zippedy-Doo-Dah out a certain body part (a cookie if you know the movie).

Introduction

Welcome to "It's a Small Blog!"

Yep, we're talking about Disneyland. After applying 11 previous times, I finally got hired by the Happiest Place on Earth!

So what am I getting myself into? A good question...

I did some Googling for other blogs by Disney employees, both past and present, and I found quite a few. And I noticed that, in general, there are two distinct style of Disney blogs out there:

First is are those written by disgruntled former employees, or by people who are just plain anti-Disney. And they're not shy about expressing their opinions! To hear them talk, you'd think Disneyland is a sort of miniature North Korea nestled within the suburban former citrus groves of Southern California; a ghastly totalitarian theme park police state presided over by an all-seeing, all-knowing, infinitely evil Kim Jong Mickey who performs horrifying mind control experiments upon his helpless, captive minions.

On the other extreme are the blogs written by hardcore Disney fans; many of whom are so dedicated to all things Disney that not only can they tell you what Walt's second cousin's childhood nickname for her second cat was, but they even know, right down to the very microsecond, when the last drop fell after Mary Poppins' last menstrual cycle ended. Really, some of these people could make even the most diehard, Tribble-hoarding, latex-ear-wearing, Klingon-speaking, Mom's-basement-living Trekkie sit back and say, "Damn! Get a life!" (All of which the bloggers of the former category would cite as evidence of Kim Jong Mickey's diabolical powers.)

My opinion? Hey, I love the park and I like the movies, but I am by no means a zealot. Nor am a hater. I'm pretty straight down the line -- and I think that puts my views of the job in a rather unique light.

So where will this job take me? Will I end up never wanting to see the park again? Will it encourage me to take my discount and see all the other Disney parks of the world too? Or will nothing change at all? Maybe it will just be a job like any other. I don't know yet. I couldn't even guess.

This blog is not written in real time. To keep some sense of anonymity -- and, most likely, my job -- I am telling tell you up front that the entries you'll be reading actually occurred at least a year prior to being published. Names will have been changed, and exact details that may reveal my identity within the company will also be changed; and perhaps eliminated entirely. At this point, you're probably saying to yourself -- "but Gigi, you already have one blog that is reasonably well known" -- yes, I do. But I never talk about it at any of my jobs. You might even work with me and never know it.

Well, enough of the preliminaries...let's get to the good stuff...