Staying at the top of the heap of the heap takes more effort than getting there in the first place.

Such seems to be the case of Disney’s Grand Californian Resort. I had the second opportunity to stay at the beautiful hotel this past week and I have to say I was a little disappointed this time around.

Granted, the hotel is still glorious in its pristine Frank Lloyd Wright design, amazing foyer complete with fireside storyteller, pint-sized rocking chair and a pianist tickling the ivories with famous Disney tunes, and impeccably kept grounds. The conference and catering services were reminiscent of Cinderella’s mouse friends – busily scurrying about to ensure that every detail was perfect and in its right place at the proper time.

Last year, I stayed in one of the original towers and had a lovely view of the pools where families scurried about in the sun and splashed away the day. In the background, I watched as crews constructed a new tower to house Disney’s expanding timeshare venture.

This year, I was assigned to a room in the first floor of that new tower. I was actually the first paying guest to rest my head on that bed. Given its newness, I assumed the space was ghost-free, but I should have checked their plans to see if Native American burial plans were beneath my feet. You see, things were not as they should have been, at least not by Disney’s impeccable standards.

First of all, the location of the room was a little too close for my comfort and all. I know that the Disney folks are trying to make the most out of every square foot of their valuable chunk of real estate and all, but I was so close to the Mulholland Madness roller coaster, I could nearly “high-five” the riders as they whizzed by.

I settled into the space and decided to make use of my in-room facilities only to discover the joys, uh, I mean challenges of peeing in the dark. After the hotel’s engineering crew showed up (almost 45 minutes after my call) and discovered the brand-new and energy-saving LED fixture was bad, they managed to procure the only replacement back at the shop. All was well, but I was surprised that the faulty fixture wasn’t discovered in their inspection process.

Later that evening, I opted to call room service for a late supper rather than brave Downtown Disney for a late-night, overpriced meal. After 15 minutes on hold, I finally was able to place my order for a bowl of their corn chowder soup and peach cobbler. Both arrived a half hour later lukewarm and bland. I suspect something else wasn’t right about the meal, as I spent the early hours of the morning thankful that I had discovered the faulty bathroom light upon my arrival and not then. Let’s just say that would have been insult to injury.

The following day, I headed back to my room at the noon hour to catch a quick catnap. The room had not yet been visited by the housekeeping fairies. Hmmmm. Well, they did just open this building and they’re probably working out some of the scheduling bugs for the cast members. I was willing to cut them a little slack. After all, I was sure it was an anomaly. Until I came back after 5 and the room was still unmade. When I called the housekeeping head elf desk, their quizzical response had me wondering if I was out of line for expecting daily maid service for my nearly $200/night stay. Eventually the room was made up, towels were replaced and a lovely chocolate was left on my pillow (one of my favorite Disney special touches, I might add.)

Overall, my stay at the Grand Californian was a pleasant one. I love the new pools and the customer service in general was outstanding. Unfortunately, when you set yourself to be the Prince Charming of the hospitality industry, every fingerprint on that shiny armor stands out.

Last week, I caught a showing of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs in Downtown Disney. Yes, I saw it without my kids. In my defense, my five-year-old daughter  had no interest in seeing it and there’s no way my two-year-old son was going to sit still long enough for anyone to enjoy the show. So, it was date night and dinner was on the screen.

Overall, it was a really cute movie. From what I’ve heard, the story is a departure from the literary version, but the general concept remains: Boy inventor creates machine that makes food fall from the sky. Wackyness ensues. Hero wins the day. Very much the stuff that’s made Disney millions over the years. And in this case, deservedly so.

I wish my daughter had been with me to see this. She gets a little freaked out by scary villains, and the only true antagonist here was bad behavior – greed, gluttony and pride, along with some well-intentioned parental pushing/child-trying-to-make-dad-proud motivations. Oh, and there’s some very cute “impress the girl” moments.

The movie does get a little preachy in some parts, but the lessons are not lost on me. Here are some of the few I noted during the film. Yes, these will make more sense if/when you see the film, so if you haven’t feel free to print out the list and take it with you. It’ll be like I’m sitting next to you and filling your ears with my whispery snarks. Trust me, it’ll enhance the experience.

Lessons learned from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs:

• An economy dependent on sardines is doomed to fail.
• Sardines need better PR.
• Tesla rocks.
• Mr. T is hilarious, especially when he’s drawn in tiny shorts and a reverse Mohawk.
• Men with unibrows are inherently oppressive and monkeys named Steve are inherently funny.
• Smart girls are hot.
• I can spend an entire animated movie guessing voices.
• There is never an inappropriate time for bacon.
• Food puns are always bad.
• Those aren’t chocolate snowballs.
• First dates with jello are romantic.
• People who tease nerds should have their asses kicked.
• Boys DO make passes at girls who wear glasses.
• There is no graceful exit from a jello castle.
• Kids want to make their parents proud.
• Parents want their kids to learn from their wisdom.
• Bigger isn’t always better.
• Genetic mutation = bad
• Tux t-shirts are an awesome fashion statement only when complimented by a lab coat.
• Fat men in diapers are always disturbing.
• I hate tornadoes. Even spaghetti tornadoes.
• Cute furry animals can always be a dangerous distraction.
• Vegas buffets are deadly.
• Parents will kiss their kids after they puke. That’s love, I tell you.
• Make sure your parents know how to use the Internet in case you need to save the world.
• Mama’s gotta be a good wide receiver.
• Putting the word “Chicken” before you name makes you a pseudo hero.
• Never fake a nut allergy.
• Gummi bears are evil.
• Pee before you see this movie.
• Sad monkeys make me cry.
• Invent species that can save you later.
• Get that monkey’s translator thing. I totally need that in a few years for the “sex talk” with the kids.
• Blowfish kisses are hawt.

So, go see the movie and enjoy. We passed on the 3-D version, but I’d love to hear of anyone who experienced the true theatrical food fight.