Simply Mad About the Mouse

I am beginning here in WordPad – yes, WordPad, since the internet is just a bit dodgy and wonky and the computer will be used for other purposes here in a minute. Kind of once again have to hurry a bit for this and fight for words instead of languishing about, seeking out exactly the way I want to say what I want to see and carving and pushing it in that direction. Right now.

Just move along.

So this day was possibly my favorite. I can’t at this moment, over the hum of my feet and my hunger for a couple more chocolate covered cherries, remember if I said the same thing yesterday or not. I probably did. But I mean it today. Even if it had this really bizarre, “It’s a Small World” small world moment smack dab in the middle of it. I am probably going to forget half the things we did which is a We had a really good day. We had our excellently designed shirts that my friend excellently designed and people were asking us about it leading us to make up all sorts of different reasons for us to be a group together, anything instead of the terrible truth that we’re just here to be stupid together in DisneyWorld and we don’t have another reason. I don’t know. We were delighted to be a curling team down for a curling convention.

Somewhere in the midst of this, in the middle of Tomorrowland, in a fit of irony that could only have been devised by some sort of epic, lifelong karma gauge, I hear someone call my name.

I remember I was pretty much in love with him after some third grade play where he was George Washington in our school production of some Disney-inspired play about liberty (oh, I know the construction of this sentence is unbelievable). A guy with a name far too specific to even hint at here. He said hi! I said hi! He was there with his wife and his kids and I had this very surreal moment of worlds colliding and questioning myself while I tried to be gracious and book my way out of there in one fell swoop.    His whole family, I remember, named their children with names starting with the letter K.  A trend, apparently, he and his wife – whom I also went to high school with – have continued.  I told him I’d see them at the reunion in a month.  Weird.  Just weird.

In the end, the sentiment I’ve settled on is this: What the hell.  We went and shot things in Buzz Lightyear, screeched and sang in Pirates of the Caribbean and trundled through the Haunted Mansion.  We also snuck in the Hall of Presidents but left before it was time for Barack Obama to be highlighted.  Now it’s time for Legacy of Blood.  There’s so much more to say.  How we got our picture with Merida, new Disney Princess.  We got embroidered mouse ears.  We were magnificent.