Dizzy

Oh hi! Do you have any meetings tomorrow? Because I do! At 10 o’clock, in fact. A 10 o’clock meeting at which I plan to explain to my coworkers that yes, yes, I know I have pink hair, I KNOW. And that yes, it was actually an accident, and an insane, ridiculous case of me being a dumbass and not breaking up with my hairdresser earlier, after talking about it endlessly. I’ve got to fix it, I KNOW I’ve got to fix it.

I have pink hair, y’all. Think I’m exaggerating? Because it’s so pink that I catch myself in the mirror and I actually shudder. It’s actually the same color as my banner. Yes, yes, look at the masthead, and picture my face underneath it. And worse, I was so tired when I left the hairdresser, I barely glanced at it, seriously, and when I got home, I nearly died.

Oh ho ho HO! Tomorrow should be a blast.

Incidentally, I had a surprisingly good time at Disney, despite my terrified misgivings and fear of all things Mickey. I mean, it’s never going to be in my top ten list of places to go, but it’s kind of hard to have a bad time shuffling two excited little boys around the park, and if you aren’t moved by the sight of a starstruck little girl as she catches a glimpse of Alice in Wonderland, then you don’t have a soul.

I will tell you that I very nearly shit myself on Tower of Terror and that’s not an exaggeration. I’m not a particularly pansy-ish rider — I’ll go on nearly anything, and I actually like roller coasters, but dropping repeatedly, as in an elevator that’s broken from a VERY HIGH PLACE, actually had me in tears, and I believe I was screaming, “I HATE IT I HATE IT LET IT END” or so I’m told by my 11-year-old nephew, whose shoulder my face was buried in for comfort.

Interestingly, being around Disney made me long for kids, because hot damn, the sight of that many happy kids was glorious, and I think perhaps there must be some sort of biological clock ticking to believe such things, because I’d think under normal circumstances the sight of throngs of angry parents wandering around the park shoving processed pork products into their kids gaping maws would be the greatest form of birth control under the sun, but the stars must have aligned just so, for there wasn’t a badly behaved kid in sight.

All that being said, I’m still perplexed by the Mickey ears and Goofy hats, and I still find the whole Disney culture a little … creepy at best. I’m clinging to that small vestige of my former full-throttle, Disney-hating self. Seriously, the thought that I sort of enjoyed it gives me the willies, and maybe I need a stiff drink.

And wow, I intended to write a whole lot more, but I’m still tired, because Jesus, they had me up at 6:30 every day and at the park no later than 9, and there were character breakfasts and Fast Passes and JESUS, Disney is extraordinarily exhausting.

*Siouxsie & The Banshees. During the trek to Disney, I cycled through my iPod from the beginning without skipping just to see what was there, and wow, um, I have a lot of Siouxsie. I also have a terrifying amount of Patti Smith, who I DESPISE, I’m sorry, I really do. Also, John Mayer. Did you know I owned a John Mayer CD? Neither did I.

26 comments November 6th, 2007