Usually I'm pretty practical and adult-like in my tastes. I prefer foie gras, traveling somewhere exotic or historically-significant, and watching Planet Earth.
However, today I awoke with a very cheesy, very immature, gut-wrenching desire....to go to Disneyland. Yes, where all things are artificial, expensive, and their staff walk around in full make-up and wigs. Where there is no such thing as "excess," and where commercialism is shamelessly and unapologetically celebrated. THAT Disneyland.
You see, I was just reading up about their now-extended campaign, "Year of a Million Dreams." As I surfed the Net on the topic, I got to gaze upon pictures of a very posh, ornate Cinderella castle that some lucky winner may be able to spend the night in. I was mesmerized by the beautiful photos of their Main Street fireworks, and I was captivated by the other images depicting a magical, faraway land of make-believe.
The Peter Pan in me, the little girl who doesn't really want to be an adult right now, longs to return to the pseudo-innocence offered by such an artificial escape to the "happiest place on Earth." I haven't been to a Disney theme park since the fifth grade, but I still cherish the fun and the memories I have of being there, and of allowing myself to BE transported to an alternate reality. In many ways, Disney is like the non-addictive drug that can fuel a retreat, and I want that "high" right now.
I want to go back. Like, NOW. Immediately. Book me a trip and I'm there.
*sigh* I guess today I just don't feel like being grown up.