It's A Small World After All.
Aug. 1st, 2007 10:24 amBack home! I must say, I'm already missing how clean everywhere in California (well, apart from Los Angeles) was; in London, there's litter everywhere you look. Life would be so much more pleasant if there were city-sized vacuum cleaners. Except not really, because people would probably use them to steal cars.
Still, you guys must have been sending out some seriously good vibes for the flight back, because the entire family got a free seat upgrade, and it's difficult to be terrified of flying when you have that much leg room. They also had Withnail and I amongst the on-flight films. Continuing my Grand Tradition of Having The Worst Taste In Men Ever Ever Ever, I was rather startled to find myself beginning to think of Withnail as frighteningly, frighteningly attractive.
I MUST NEVER BE ALLOWED TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND.
That aside: on our last day in California, we went to Disneyland.
It was glorious.
Seriously, it was the silliest, most ridiculously twee place in the world and I absolutely adored it. I thought I probably wasn't going to enjoy it much, but then we got there and Disney music was coming over the speakers and I was lost. I hadn't realised that I loved Disney quite as much as I apparently do, but I wandered everywhere with a slightly unhinged grin on my face and pointed out Cruella de Ville with far too much enthusiasm and very nearly wept at the parade. My inner child is very, very happy right now. (Apparently, on my father's last visit to Disneyland, thirty years ago, he was completely stoned. I cannot even begin to imagine how bizarre an experience that must have been.)
To anyone who, upon reading that post title, yelped and clamped their hands in vain over their ears as music they thought they had forgotten flooded back and took up permanent residence in their minds: I'm not sorry.
Still, you guys must have been sending out some seriously good vibes for the flight back, because the entire family got a free seat upgrade, and it's difficult to be terrified of flying when you have that much leg room. They also had Withnail and I amongst the on-flight films. Continuing my Grand Tradition of Having The Worst Taste In Men Ever Ever Ever, I was rather startled to find myself beginning to think of Withnail as frighteningly, frighteningly attractive.
I MUST NEVER BE ALLOWED TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND.
That aside: on our last day in California, we went to Disneyland.
It was glorious.
Seriously, it was the silliest, most ridiculously twee place in the world and I absolutely adored it. I thought I probably wasn't going to enjoy it much, but then we got there and Disney music was coming over the speakers and I was lost. I hadn't realised that I loved Disney quite as much as I apparently do, but I wandered everywhere with a slightly unhinged grin on my face and pointed out Cruella de Ville with far too much enthusiasm and very nearly wept at the parade. My inner child is very, very happy right now. (Apparently, on my father's last visit to Disneyland, thirty years ago, he was completely stoned. I cannot even begin to imagine how bizarre an experience that must have been.)
To anyone who, upon reading that post title, yelped and clamped their hands in vain over their ears as music they thought they had forgotten flooded back and took up permanent residence in their minds: I'm not sorry.
