So I'll admit, I used to think people who loved all things Disney were a bit, well, ...Freakish. Kinda like immature or childish, or permanently living in Never Never Land. Or snorting fairy dust. Or so cheesy I'd throw up a little in my mouth when told about the entire Disney themed Christmas tree that was in their living room at home. Or how they were going to Thehappiestplaceonearth for the 5th time in three years. It got to the point where there were permanent grooves inside my lids from all the rolling that was going on whenever I heard the D word dropped at the lunch table. And I don't mean douche. Although I roll my eyes whenever anyone uses that nast-ass word, too. I was such a Disney virgin (having only spent one day at the Magic Kingdom when I was 11) that I truly believed that all of Epcot was in the giant golf ball.
Now, Lily is a Princess Fiend, so when I convinced Husband to go down to Florida for Christmas last December (like Christmas would be in a different month, but whatever. Actually, now that I think about it Eastern Orthodox Christmas is in January so there.), and being the amazingly awesome Mommy that I am, I started to ponder a day trip to the Magic Kingdom to fulfill my little girl's dreams. Papa's condo is a mere 2 hour drive from The World, so the plan was that we'd wake up at the butt crack, drive to Disney, spend the day, and drive back to the condo. Good. Great. Low key Disney, baby. Just one small sip can't hurt, I told myself.
Then in August I decided to tell my two friends about my plans. One is a Disney Freak and the other, I quickly discovered, was a closet Disney Freak. "Oh, no, you'll be too tired to drive back that night!" and "You'll be surprised how cheap the Value Resorts are!" and "Oh, are you going to do a Character Meal?" and "OMG, OMG, I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about Lily meeting the princesses!". Two hours and $300 worth of charges on ye ole credit card later, I had booked a night at the All Star Movies resort and scored 8:05 b'fast ressies at Cinderella's Royal Table. My low key Disney just got upgraded to medium key Disney. Just a swig now and then won't be a problem.
Over the next few months I found myself typing www dot disboards dot com into my google chrome with alarming frequency. It was as if my fingers were possessed. I created a user name, posted my first querry. Began to wonder if I should make an ADR for dinner at TTS so I could be sure we'd have a good view of the ELP. I made sure that Cinderella knew our address so that she could invite Lily (via handwritten note discovered in the toe of her Christmas stocking) to her castle for breakfast. Read up on Fast Passes, Park-Hopper Passes, and Photo Passes. Plotted and planned our Magical Day at the MK. Bought Lily an autograph book and a new Cinderella costume and both girls Minnie plush. I'm not, drunk, occifer, really! It was just a drink with dinner!
Finally, at long last, our Magical Day arrived. We did, indeed, wake at the butt crack and sped along the Turnpike to Kissimmee (WDW is not actually in Orlando, for those of you not "in the know"). We pulled up in the parking lot, grabbed the girls, the stroller, the changes of clothes, the sunblock, the diaper bag, the camera and made it just in time for the Rope Drop. Ran to the Monorail, rode to the park, and walked down Main Street all decked out in Christmas splendor. And then...The Castle. I think we must have taken over a hundred pictures of that thing in less than 24 hours. The rest of the day was a blur of Princesses, pricey souvenir shops, small worlds, flying elephants, spinning teacups, stroller naps, high fives after scurrying in line just before the CM closed the queue for Jasmine, magic carpets, Means, mice, parades, autographs scribbled by plush hands, lines, spaghetti and meatballs a la Lady and the Tramp, impossibly long hair, embroidered ears, explosions in the sky and just.plain.fun. And it didn't end there. The next morning we scampered off to the Grand Floridian to dine with Alice, Mary, Winnie and friends, breathed in the yummy gingerbread, and hung out Downtown (Disney of course). It was...well... Magical. Woooowhooo! The room's spinning! I love you, man! Glug, glug, glug.
Since our return from WDW I've been trying in vain to re-create some of the magic by immersing myself in scrapbooking, Disney movies, and secretly planning our next trip. Last week I made over 50 phone calls to a local radio station to try to qualify for a vacation on the newest cruise ship the Disney Dream!. I got through once. I wasn't the 96th caller. My Husband and sister confronted me and told me that I'm obsessed with Disney. Pete even updated his facebook status about how I liked Disney more than Lily. I seriously considered buying Lily and Maya an electric Monorail set to surround our tree next Christmas, complete with replicas of the Polynesian and Contemporary resorts. Quick, hide the packet, the wooden spoon, and the Big Smiley Pitcher! No that's not a red mousetache, I mean, mustache baby. My lip is just chapped from the wind blowing across the cold winter tundra that is my life.
I've been getting slightly better and have been working the steps towards a Disney recovery program. I'm on step one...write a hilarious blog post admitting that I'm a crazy whacked out Disney Freak that will inspire all of my loyal followers to come out of hiding and comment on how frakking funny I am, and how they still cherish me and our friendship even though I drink the Disney Kool-Aid and I freaking love it. My name is Katie and I'm a Disney Freak. There. I feel better now.Gimmie another, bartender!