In 2000 years...

At the end of a long day at Disneyland, The Hubs and I had split up to accomplish our final tasks and we agreed to meet at the entrance to the park.  He heroically offered to take the kids and get the stroller while I emptied the locker.  All of this was during the fireworks.

I wish I had a picture because words cannot describe what it's like to swim through the thousands of people en masse on Main Street, gawking at a fantastic show overhead. There's supposed to be a moving pathway, but most everyone who is on that path was too short-sighted to grab a spot before the show and so they're trying to watch the sky, find a spot to stand on the ground, all while walking  in the opposite direction of the focal point.  Disney employees are shouting for people to move, "Keep the line MOVING!!!!!!" The people in wheelchairs are usually tired of being overlooked and are starting to ram the legs of the ones who won't get out of the way, babies in strollers are crying because everything is so loud, and everyone stops to look each time there is a POP sound, which is every two seconds because it's a fireworks show.

I barely managed to get myself over to sidewalk in front of The Clothiers where the crowd was ending.  Everyone peeled off into the street and I was the only person who didn't stop to spectate.  The lights lit up the sky and the Haunted Mansion narration played.  Everyone oooo-ed  and ahhh-ed and I could see their faces smiling as I passed.  Soon the crowd was behind me and I was walking alone, the sounds of the show in the distance.  The train pulled up to the platform and I could hear the announcement, "The Disneyland Limited, now arriving..." and in that moment I wondered at where I was.  I thought back to my trip to Italy when I walked through the Colosseum hearing stories about the Romans and their entertainment.  In 2000 years, will any of Disneyland be left?  I walked under the bridge of the Disneyland train and I remembered touring the floor where the gladiators walked.  What will people say of Disneyland in 2000 years?  Will they talk of the Castle?  The crowds?  The train?  The firework show? What will people think of us and our days at Disneyland?  Will anyone care?  I tried to imagine being on a cruisetour to visit the ruins of a magical kingdom.  It was surreal.

People were on the other side of the train platform, still taking pictures with the floral Mickey, and I was thrust back to 2011. I was Mom and Wife again to my dear family and off we went, living our todays that will be olden times for someone else.  Life is funny that way.

Lovely Disney

I love how amid all the constructed world at Disneyland, it is truly made beautiful because of how it is accented by nature.  These are some of my glimpses during our last trip there:

Beauty and the Beast

I love music and I love singing and I love plays and I love dancing (even though I have no moves AT ALL) and I love when they are all put together in a musical!!!  These loves are from my mom and so it was a thrill to go with my mom and daughter to see Beauty and the Beast back in March!  We had a great time and Pinkers is still asking to go back.  Thank you, Mom, for a sweet memory together and a fabulous experience!!

Pinkalicious was giddy for Carl's Jr.!!

The Pantages, Hollywood, CA.  

Grammie and Pinky

The design inside has been preserved in it's original art deco style.  It's really fun!

This is a little wild, but it's our only pic together, so I'm including it.  =)

The ceiling of the theatre.

Pinks LOVED the funky mirrors.  They each had a marbled counter and small stool.  Lots of imaginative play in the bathroom!

Decked out in Grammie-love.  

Girls' Weekend, Year One

Trish grew up in Long Beach (LBC shout-out to Warren G, and may Nate Dogg rest in peace) so while her parents were away, they let a bounding group of hoodlum mothers from Vtown descend on their house and tear up the 213 (and a bit of 714 as well) for the weekend.  Here are some highlights:

All the ladies at Schooner or Later (featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives - HeyO!).

Dana and Kristy (no, that is not our picture on the menu!)

"The Mess," or in Christian Siriano style, "The Hot Mess"

After the first shopping stop, Fabric Barn.  The Mecca of all ribbon lovers.  No one left without a bag.

Because at South Coast Plaza, the gardens come to you.

I was frequently decked by over grown plants.  It was like war with The Ents.

I wondered if with the shirt I wore, I would be totally camo-ed.  Maybe with a black sweater.

Yes, those are Mickey balloons and a carousel in the mall.  We are one  Eiffel Tower away from the World's Fair. Or one princess away from the Magic Kingdom.

 

What do women do at Nordstrom's Rack?  Take photos with ridiculous hats.  And basically do all the things we'd be reprimanding our children for doing.

Dana and Trish, Two True BadAsses (you can't see the orange feathered pompom on the top of my hat.  It was total  Oompa-Loompa.)

Walking on the beach, glimpsing Carnival and The Queen Mary.  Objects in picture were closer than they appear.

Toes in sand.  My toes are jealous of Jaime's painted ones.

Jaime and Dana soaking up the sun.

When you're in LBC, you can pop a load of laundry in, and then stroll the beach. Luxury!

Shake it, Ladies!

At Trish's parents' house - TOTAL time warp with the toys.  

Check out the barn.  And Kel, remember that Barbie bed?!

Did you get the memo?

Free appetizer at Super Mex. It is a plate of cheese!

Storming IKEA.  The economy was officially stimulated.

This felt like a trip into the future - a special cart tram next to the stairs.  H.G. Wells would be so jazzed.

Jaime and I saw this on the way home.  For sure the best political  campaign in our lifetime.  

Bin Laden

Bin Laden is dead and I don't know what to think.

I remember when we captured Saddam Hussein after finding him in that ridiculous hole.  I was so happy that we got him!  And then he went on trial, and fessed up about pretending to have weapons of mass destruction.  And then he was hanged.  And we're still there trying to keep peace and help them establish a government.  This is not what I expected on the day that we found him.

Tonight as I watch and hear that we have Bin Laden's body, the anger of justice runs through my body for a minute, but I know better this time.  He was shot AFTER a fire fight?  Executed?  What will a martyr's death for him mean for us and the western world?  Is Heather's fiancé (an army officer) going to be in even more danger in Afghanistan?  When you war with a non-government, who wins?  Because I don't think it's over at all. I wonder at a government that runs Guantanamo Bay and assassinates.  I wonder what our president is asking for when, at the end of his address, he calls for God to bless America.  I wonder when the next attack on American soil happens, how I will face it as a mother.  I wonder how ignorant I am that after spending years studying a subject called "history," which seems to be comprised of all the wars throughout time, I am surprised that my life is affected by war.

I don't know that killing him wasn't the absolutely right thing to do.  Of course our presidents, Bush and Obama, were acting on what they saw as best.  And my foreign policy maxes out at "Don't drink the water in Mexico," so what do I know?  There's too much I don't know.  I can't cheer for a victory yet. Hopefully I will see it.

Who Cares? I DO!

I am boycotting.  I boycott a lot of things that don't really matter to anyone but me.  Here are a few:

1.  Tarzan's Treehouse. It used to be The Swiss Family Robinson's Treehouse in Disneyland.  I refuse to climb it now that it's been redone.  One day I will get over it for the sake of my children blah blah, but until then, I find it an abomination.

2.  Mr. Pibb. Anyone who thinks it's a Dr. Pepper replacement clearly practices taste-bud-abstinence. I am tired of the furrowed brows every time I am offered it in place of DP and I pick Coke instead.  

3.  OB Tampons.  You have got to be kidding me with the whole no-applicator thing.  Their trademark "Just try OB and you'll see!" should be replaced by the less-catchy but more appropriate "Just try OB and become Lady MacBeth!"

4.  Five for Fighting.  Stop whining, grow a pair, and prove that you're more manly than Kermit the Frog.

5. "Water for Elephants."  How does this movie exist outside of a Conan O'Brien sketch? A Depression-Era drama about a boy in his late teens who is orphaned after a car wreck kills his parents and is forced to hop a circus train where he rooms with a dwarf and a dog, falls in love with a married horse performer, and escapes the circus with several animals to start his own circus.  Who is taking this seriously?!  

I would rather wear an OB tampon as I climb Tarzan's Treehouse while sipping a Mr. Pibb and listening to Five for Fighting than waste a minute of my life watching "Water for Elephants."  This declaration has therefore sealed my fate that the first boycott I break will be for that sham of a film.  Lord help me not to own the DVD.

Laundry or Rubbish?

I got ready to face the world one day last week and felt a bit frumpy. It didn't help that I had dug into my panty drawer and found myself with a fistful of spares. I couldn't believe that I let myself get down to my back-up underwears! Do you have back-ups? My desperado chonies are pairs of panties that are almost unwearable. I would never want to be seen in them, but they are better than going commando, or re-wearing a dirty pair. There are three pair in my drawer because, being The Queen of Good Intentions, although I mean to do the laundry once I've hit the spares, doesn't mean I remember to do it. But on this day, I donned my for-utility-only granny-p's, started a load of delicates, and hoisted the kids into the car for a Target jaunt.

We had quite a few things to buy at Target and as the cart began fill, the slippage started. Anyone who owns back-ups knows what slippage is because it is the curse of the spare pair - no elastic left in the waistband. With each step in the store I could feel my chonies shimmy down a little more... and a little more... until I was sure that you could see a rib of rolled underwear laying across the middle of my butt. I was mortified!! Panty line shmanty line, this felt like the Great Wall of China fortified across my derrière! The solution may seem simple to you: go to the bathroom and adjust! I really wanted to and I tried!! I wheeled my cart of goods over to the bathroom, but it was closed for cleaning. And if you're a mom, you know the hassle of the public restroom with kids and babies, so you'll sympathize with my resolve to get a move on, grab my last few items, and cash out immediately.

The attempt at immediacy, however, was my downfall. Walking faster only aided gravity and within two minutes my undies were off. I could feel them sliding down my legs and the only thing to stop them was the mercy of my pants crotch, which kept them from becoming anklets. My gait became awkward, as if my legs were bound for some sort of picnic race. I left Target conquered by the underwear that I thought would be the day's salvation, but that had betrayed and defeated me.

I threw them away in disgust when I got home (after quite an uncomfortable drive, might I add) and hurriedly finished the laundry. All has been right with the world since then. But there are still two pair that lurk beneath the pile of acceptable undergarments, and I worry that if I should throw those two away, can I live spare-less? How will I know that I am overdue on laundry without the horror of a day with spares jolting me into laundry reality? Maybe I should buy 10 more pairs? I can't go for THAT long without doing laundry... I hope.