Feelings, Holidays, Vacation

Childhood Lost

A couple days ago I asked Paul if he was going to see Disney Pixar’s Brave with me. He replied, “Ughh no. That’s for kids.” Yes. Kids and 24 year old girls named Lily. Childhood goes by so quickly and all the fun stuff you do when you’re young is frowned upon when you’re older. Why is that? Why can’t childhood last forever? Why do we have to grow up and clean things and pay taxes and pretend to care about politics and the earth and other people? Childhood was such a selfish time. Maybe that’s why I miss it.

I remember my first taste of people making me feel bad for unleashing my inner child was during my first year of college in Utah. It was October and my friends and I wanted to go trick or treating. So we did. We got a lot of weird looks from parents and children that we passed on the street. I distinctly remembering a woman asking us, “Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” We said uhhh no? She then said, “Are you going to go sit on Santa’s lap too?” You know what lady? WHAT IF I AM? Just because you’re an old skank, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the holidays!

I take the kids I babysit to McDonald’s more than the average person should eat there. It’s turning into Supersize Me. Which I’m totes okay with. Every so often I have to help one of them get into the Play Place. It’s usually the youngest who can’t reach the top step or something like that. I’ll look around the room, trying to suppress my desire to climb to the top and go down the slide over and over. I would no doubt be king of the castle and everyone else would be my dirty rascals. I’ve given into temptation a couple of times. Some of the parents smile and some look the other way. Yeah, they better look the other way or else they’re gonna get a milkshake straight to the face.

I also experience the same hate/jealousy around vacation time. My family has been going to Disney World since I was a wee lass. I remember in high school and college people would ask me where I was going for Spring Break. I wouldn’t say Miami or Cabo or LA. I would tell them I was going to Disney World. I could tell they thought I was lame, but you know what? There are probably more adults visiting Disney World than kids. And maybe I enjoy getting an autograph from my favorite Disney characters every so often. And seeing fireworks every night. And walking down Main Street USA. Whatevs.

Paul and I had Netflix for a bit. It was okay but the selection of movies wasn’t superb. One day while Paul was at work, I was checking out Netflix and I saw that they had episodes of Rugrats available! Without batting an eye I ordered one episode and re-lived a bit of my childhood. When Paul came home from work he said, “I know what you’ve been doing.” I looked at him like he was a psycho. Then he said “How was Rugrats?” How did he know?!?! I guess Netflix had sent him an email that said, “Hope you enjoyed your viewing of Rugrats!” We canceled our Netflix subscription after that.

People are always going to judge you when you do things to make yourself happy. Don’t listen to them! Like philosopher/songstress Natasha Bedingfield said, Release your inhibitions! If you want to reminisce and feel like a kid again, you should. I got fro-yo two nights ago and covered it in rainbow sprinkles like I was 5 years old because I don’t care what anyone thinks. Be happy, have fun, be yourself.


Canadian Showcase

This is a product sold at Epcot.

I realize that a lot of people don’t get the luxury of going to Disney World more than once in their life. Some people haven’t ever been. And I have to wonder why their parents haven’t been locked away for cruel and unusual punishment.

Disney World (Let’s be clear: the one in Florida. Not that lousy excuse for all things magical in California.) includes 4 main parks (Magic Kingdom, Animal Kingdom, Disney’s Hollywood Studios (formerly known as MGM Studios), and Epcot. I also include the 3 water parks and Downtown Disney as part of Disney World, but I won’t get technical.

Epcot is one of my favorite parts of the Disney experience. Basically, Epcot is also known as the World Showcase. There are 11 countries with pavilions displaying traditional architecture, food, and goods from each nation. It’s a brilliant idea if you ask me. Once you go to Epcot, you feel like you’ve actually visited the countries on display. More importantly, you only experience the good parts of each country. And you don’t have to travel there. AND you’re actually in Florida. It’s a win-win-win if you ask moi.

The cool thing about Epcot is that everyone who works at a particular country’s pavilion must reside in that country. Each “cast member” is dressed in traditional clothes (Yes, in Germany they were lederhosen) and their name tags say specifically where they are from. Good idea Disney. Epcot is really just a great introduction into stereotyping.

Now, the moment you’ve all have been waiting for: There is a Canadian pavilion. It’s so embarrassing and awesome. The American one is just as embarrassing, but whatever.

It’s obvious that Canadians have no traditional clothing. So the workers at Disney decided to dress the cast members in red and black flannel shirts and khaki shorts with mounty hats. This is a disgrace. While most countries are dressed up in their finest outfits, the Canadian’s are stuck with flannel in Orlando. Rough.

Just no.

The store that’s in Epcot’s Canada includes a lot of clothes from this Canadian brand, Roots, which I actually like. They also have candy from Canada. And some weird night shirts. So that’s always alarming.

Usually, there are bars in each country where you can grab an authentic alcoholic beverage specific to that country. In Mexico they serve Margaritas, in France, champagne, and in Germany they serve everything. In Canada however, they serve popcorn. And whenever you get some, the workers always tell you how popcorn originated in Canada which I’m pretty sure is a lie.

Welp, there it is.

The restaurant in Canada is Le Cellier, a steakhouse. The food is definitely the worst out of every country. And I’ve eaten at the Norway pavilion.

They just haven’t made anything special in the Canadian section of Epcot and this makes me sad. I mean, it’s just not up to par with the rest of the showcase. There is a waterfall though, but it’s only cool for about 5 seconds.

Favorites, Food, Judging, Music, School

Top 1000

Gift from the gods.

Last night I reached 1000 views on my blog! Just so you know, I played no part in 994 of those views. I feel like this joyous moment should be commemorated with my list of 1000’s.  I do not have 1000 items on this list, and its definitely not a “1000 things to do before you die” type of thing. Its just a compilation of things in life that contain the number 1000.

I’m pretty sure I’ve missed 1000 days of class Kindergarten-Undergrad. School is just so…mundane.

There are definitely 1000 people that I can’t stand. I will name 20 just so you get an idea. Susan Sarandon, Joy Behar, Guiliana Rancic, Kris Humphries, LuAnn de Lesseps, Teresa Guidice, Casey Anthony, Bono, Julianne Moore, Martha Stewart, Jennifer Aniston, Kristen Stewart, Kelly Ripa, Kelly Bensimon, George Lopez, Alison Pill, Dakota Fanning, Jenna Fischer, Anne Hathaway, Blake Lively.

The profusion of 1000 flowers to make the smell of Flowerbomb perfume by Viktor & Rolf. Come to think of it, I use 1000 sprays daily.

The number of times I have been to Disney World.

The amount of calories I usually eat in 5 minutes.

How many steps I won’t be taking on a walk today.

The number of strange dogs I have pet.

How much I weigh. Yep, in pounds.

The time when Paul said David Gray’s album was in his top 1000 albums. Hahahaa

Number of times that Avril Lavigne’s teeth have mesmerized me.

Times I have watched Clueless. And Titanic.

Barbie’s I have given a haircut.

Number of sports I don’t like.

Number of bugs that freak me out.

The amount of tater tots I can eat.

The amount of times I have randomly burst into tears.

How many times I wish I wasn’t washing dishes.

The number of Pokemon I wish were real.

Times I wished I looked like Frida Pinto.

Times I’ve laughed at my own jokes.