Jennifer Morash

So, I am a huge Disney fangirl. Seriously, people. If you could but see my youtube viewing history. Or my FaceBook newsfeed, for that matter. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t.

　
I was born in the mid seventies, my formative years that I remember were mostly the 80’s. Hard as it may be for younger folks to imagine, television offerings were more limited. But every week, the CBC aired The Wonderful World of Disney. That was my gateway at first. That, and Robin Hood. You know, the one where Robin Hood is a fox. I remember seeing that in the theatres, though looking at when it’s actual release year was, I now know it was one of Disney’s re-releases.

　
Then, on Christmas day when I was six, my sister and I got a fabulous present. We discovered that our parents, grandmother and, yes, even the two of us, were going to Disney.

　
Better still – for me, anyway – was that they had chosen for us to be there during my seventh birthday. My sister jokes that she’s still jealous. I don’t think she’s joking.

　
That week was magical. Disney was this wondrous place. The Magic Kingdom had all these fun rides, Epcot was nothing short of fascinating to the young me. Science, it turned out, was pretty cool, and in the future we were totally going to live in space. Or underwater. Or in desert farms that smell of oranges.

　
Also, I had a birthday cake with Minnie Mouse on. Also orange flavour. Writing this, I’m really starting to wonder if my love of the smell of oranges, both artificial and real, is linked to this. I may be on to something.

　
We went back a few more times. Once when I would have been perhaps nine or ten, I have trouble placing that one in time. And once when I was fifteen, this time without my sister (seriously, how does she still love me?) because she was on a trip to Mexico. I secretly believe this may have been my parents fretting about their sixteen year old in Mexico without them, no matter how many responsible adults were there with her group, so putting themselves geographically close enough to get across that border if they had to. This time, I was old enough to be allowed to roam free in the parks. It was a different time, guys.

　
I remember eating breakfast in a deserted Land pavilion. There may have been another family there, but I don’t think so. After park opening. This doesn’t happen anymore.

　
And still, the Magic Kingdom was magical, and Epcot was both fascinating and inspiring. MGM Studios was a thing now.. wow, a third gate? Hooray! It was so very, very much about movies. Ah, Great Movie Ride, how I miss you.

　
But then, I became an adult. And another fifteen years would pass before I was able to go back. This time, with father, step mom and step niece. Essentially, they brought me not just because they love me – because of course they do – but so that I could share a room with the young lady and look after her. This was not difficult. At twelve, she was a perfect little lady and fun to be with. For the first time, I discovered how fun those parks could be when I was all grown up but seeing it through the eyes of the child there with me. She loved it, I loved it. Disney was different, but still fun. I could still see a bit, and though I was missing a lot of what was going on with rides that were new to me, like Splash Mountain – under construction on my last trip – I still had fun.

　
Another fourteen years would pass. I would lose all sight, gain some back, and be okay with it all. Then, last October, my Mom was kindly driving to work with me, and asked me if I would like to go to Disney World with her in February.

　
Boy, did I.

　
Disney World on an adults-only trip is just as much fun, guys. If you think you shouldn’t go because you’re too old but have no kids, you’re missing out. If you don’t like thrill rides, that’s okay, there’s plenty of slower things. On the other hand, if you think it’s all kiddie rides, you’re also wrong. You can do roller coasters thatt go upside down. Or backwards, for that matter. You can believe, for just a few minutes, that you’re actually flying on the back of a banshee from the movie Avatar. Or somehow soaring in a hangglider over famous sights of the world. Soon, you may believe you’re flying in the Millennium Falcon.

　
Disney World is magical. Yes, okay, it isn’t “real”. Not the real world at all, but that’s sort of the point. I know people roll their eyes a bit at all the talk of magical experiences, but it really, truly is like that. You forget the harsher, colder real world for a bit and just lose yourself in immersive environments.

　
Some other time, I’ll write about how impressed I am at the length Disney has gone to to accommodate people with varying disabilities, but this is just generally about how much I love that place.

　
I know the corporation is just that. I know that their goal is to make money. No, I don’t agree with every decision they have ever made. But you know? I don’t care. I just love that place.

　
And I am not waiting another fourteen years to go back.

People keep blogs for different reasons, and I think they’re all pretty valid, even if I may not agree with the actual message being conveyed. Some people keep them for the validation that being heard brings. That is completely okay. Some people use them as a soapbox of sorts, a means to convey a particular viewpoint. That’s also okay. The medium actually isn’t always the message. Some people write to make money. Again, okay.
　

So why am I writing one? Several reasons, actually.

　
Firstly, it is part of my goal to write more. In fact, I set myself a goal of writing once a day, every day, a little over two and a half weeks ago at the time this will be posted. At the time of writing (not the same thing), I have met that goal.

　
Part of my goal in writing is to eventually start publishing. As such, this blog can also be considered to be part of my writing platform. It will show readers how I write, what my voice is, and all that.

　
I am also keeping it because, frankly, I have a lot to say about the things that interest me, and those are many, many things.

　
Lastly, I want to make this a little corner of positivity out there in the interwebs. This is not ever going to be a vehicle for complaint, because that’s not what I want to put out there. Life can be hard but we don’t have to be.

　
For now, this is my plan: I plan to publish one blog per week, likely on Wednesdays; this may change but for now, I have arbitrarily chosen Wednesdays. I don’t know why. Arbitrary publication date is arbitrary. There may be weeks where I have more to say in a hurry, in which case there may be a bonus blog. But I plan to try to always have at least one post, published at midnight PST/3am EST/8am GMT. Scheduling publication of blog posts is rather nice.

　
As for you, gentle reader. If you like what I have to say, please do comment. I’ll try to answer comments as much as possible, and comments will help me grow this thing. You can also feel completely free to share it on yon social media things if you are so inclined. Or just read it and enjoy it.

We live in a day and age where labelling yourself as a geek is considered cool. Now, this isn’t going to be a post of my complaining about twoo geeks and wannabes. Honestly, I think it’s fantastic and wish it was like that in the 80s and 90s, my younger years might have been easier.

　
However, “geek” covers a large assortment of things. You can just like Marvel movies and call yourself a geek. Or you might have meticulous replicas of every Enterprise to cruise across a television or movie screen and call yourself a geek.

　
This begs the question: what kind of geek am I?

　
First and foremost, let me say that I can probably put a lot of my geekiness at the feet of either C.S. Lewis or Walt Disney. Lewis was my gateway into the fantasy genre at an early age, though I don’t remember how old I was when I first read a Narnia book. Six or seven. But I was both six and seven, as my birthday fell in this week, when I first went to Walt Disney World. Epcot had just opened, and you could say it made an impression on my young birthday girl self. In fact, much more than meeting Mickey Mouse. Futurism has kind of fascinated me since that day, though I didn’t have a word for it for a very long time.

　
I’ve always been a bookworm. I remember the first chapter book I ever read… Charlotte’s Web. I also remember the last book that I ever physically read with my eyes. An omnibus version of Guy Gavriel Kay’s The Fionavar Tapestry. Luckily, audiobooks are a thing and easy to get my grubby little hands on. Or ears, I suppose.

　
So I’m a book geek. I am also a gamer geek, though not the World of Warcraft sort as that’s a wee bit hard to do when you can’t see the screen. It’s been awhile since I played, but yes, I am one of those folks who has sat around with a bunch of dice in varying shapes and pretended to be someone else for the evening, and I enjoyed it. I even own a bag of holding. Actually, I own three. They’re handbags, or at least two purses and one travel bag that I have wound up putting into everyday use.

　
I am a fantasy and scifi television show and movie geek, too. My choice of poison includes Firefly, Star Trek (mostly TNG, though), Star Wars (mostly original trilogy, though), Labyrinth, The Princess Bride and the like. Oh. And Doctor Who. I love me some Tardis adventures.

　
I am a Disney geek, too. Or possibly a fangirl. If you get me started, I just will not shut up about the parks. Or the animated movies. Or the parks. Did I mention the parks? Disney World is my happy place. I also happen to find its history and inner workings fascinating, as a glance at my youtube watch history and channel subscriptions will tell you.

　
I never used to be a science geek, but lo and behold, when I went to study massage therapy I discovered just how fascinating the human body is. Even cellular structure is complex and just nifty, and don’t get me started on the kidney. Physics, not so much.

　
So. There you have it, my geekdom explained. If you continue reading, you can probably expect me to wax enthusiastic about any and all of these topics. If it’s one that doesn’t interest you, that’s okay. I won’t be offended if you skip it. Just don’t tell me I’m wrong for liking what I like, and I won’t tell you you’re wrong for liking what you like.
　

Beam me up, Scotty.*

　

* (Yes, I know that never got said. I also know the line is “No, I am your father” but let’s not get pedantic.)

Welcome to my little corner of the internet.

My name is Jennifer, as you may have gathered already, and I am at the time of writing this, a 43 year old blind woman living on the east coast of Canada. Professionally, I am a registered massage therapist and recreationally a writer, though up until recently I haven’t been writing as much as I wanted to, or at all.

Most people are curious about the blind thing. To be precise, I have zero vision in my right eye, and light perception in my left along with the ability to see colour and sometimes motion if the light is just right. Too dark, and obviously I get nothing, but that also happens if it’s too bright. I haven’t always had this level of vision. In fact I have both had much more and much less, running the gamut from 20/80 (almost enough to drive) to utter darkness, though the right eye has been blind since roughly age five or six. I’m of the mindset that I don’t focus on what I’ve lost, but rather what I’ve gained back.

The massage therapy thing is a career I took on in my thirties. I’d wanted to pursue it for a long time, but never did. Right up until I decided that enough was enough. I’ve been doing it for six years now, and absolutely love it. I like people, or at least I like people in one on one or very small group interactions, and this career path lets me help and also get to know a variety of interesting and wonderful folks. Yes, it is hard work, but it’s also almost insanely fulfilling.

As to the writing, I’ve been doing it since I was a child. I’ve always been a bookworm, and my mother encouraged me to write. She insists that I won a lot of writing contests when I was young, though I’m convinced she’s mixing my sister and I up, as she’s also exceedingly skilled with words. The only contest I remember winning was in the summer before I started ninth grade, and involved writing a ghost story which, if I recall correctly, was called The Will and The Orb. Which now seems a bit pretentious, but I was fourteen, so allowances must be made.

I’ve written short stories on and off, more often than not leaving them unfinished as I ran out of steam or got distracted. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but if you think a short story was hard for me to finish, imagine me going for a novel?

Since starting the massage thing, I’ve written a lot less. I get the ideas, but tend to just daydream about them and leave them at that, while simultaneously telling myself that I could write a darned good book some day and of course get it published. The book you never write can safely be thought of as a sure winner. But 100% of the books you never write aren’t going to see the light of day.

Recently, though, I’ve decided that once again enough is enough. To paraphrase a recent Facebook post I made, writing is like a muscle. If you don’t use it, it atrophies. If you want to strengthen it you have to consistently use it.

I set myself a goal. Write something every day. Even if it’s only a paragraph. Even if it’s only a snippet of dialogue for something else. Because I do want to write a book, but a whole book is really, really intimidating. But writing a paragraph isn’t. It is the kind of goal I can meet, and I have. For a week and a half, I have written at least one paragraph a day. More often than not, I write a lot more than that. It’s all been book-related, but it doesn’t need to be.

That’s where this blog comes in. Here, I’ll be writing about a lot of things. About being blind, and the humour that can bring as well as the harder things, though I more often than not see the humour rather than the struggles. About working in my industry. About writing itself. About things that interest me. I’ve decided not to set a certain focus at the outset, though I make no promises that that will always be the case.

So. Deep breath, best foot forward, and let’s see where this goes.