goodness, life, manfolk

Disneyland!

I was so scared of her and her crow

Boyfriend and I went to Disneyland last week for our 4-year anniversary.  It was totally exhausting but super fun.  He had never been on the teacups!  I got video of him turning the wheel and getting dizzy.  I got to sit in the driver’s seat at the Indiana Jones ride (which broke down on us the first time).  The Haunted Mansion broke down on us, too; there was a hitch-hiking ghost sitting right between us on the way out.  We ate a turkey leg and a pineapple soft-serve ice cream and gumbo and a churro, walked through the princess castle, rode Pirates twice, shot lasers on the Buzz Lightyear ride (I got a way higher score than Boyfriend!), and saw no fewer than 34 little girls dressed up as princesses.

Boyfriend and I have discussed how Sleeping Beauty is probably our favorite of the old Disney cartoons.  The thorns, the green flames, the sparkly sword, the giant black dragon!  It’s just the best.

Mom asked if he and I had a “big talk” since we’ve been together so long.  I said, “No.  Our plan remains the same: Stay together as long as we’re happy.”  She didn’t seem satisfied, but Sister got a text from some boy she’s smitten about and distracted us by grinning stupidly 🙂

Boyfriend has been really busy with work recently.  He did a 9-day shoot in K-town, then we did Disneyland, then he left for San Francisco for a few days.  He got back last night, and left again this morning for a shoot someplace else for a few days.  I’m not super jazzed about it.  We slept apart last night.  I can’t get all attached if he’s just going to leave again.

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family, life

What’s the emoticon for ‘I just realized I became my mother’?

My mom is easily the most emotional person in our family.  When I was a kid, she cried at the end of The Mighty Ducks because, “The family got back together, it’s so nice! *sniffle*”  I used to be able to read an article about an abandoned seal cub without getting all fucking misty-eyed, but no longer (apparently, sheesh).  Just thinking about something remotely patriotic or generous gets me a little choked up.  WTF IS HAPPENING TO ME?!

HE'S NOT GETTING UP, SIMBA 😦

This isn’t just a matter of “I don’t want to cry all the damn time,” it’s an identity crisis for me.  I’m a tough teacher with a harsh opinion of people who don’t follow the rules inside and out of the classroom (I got out of two different cars and corrected two different people who littered on two separate occasions this week).  I’m durable and strong when life gets hard.  But ask me to describe the scene where Mufasa gets trampled by wildebeests, and Simba says, “Get up, dad…” and omg it’s puddletown on my desk.

I like to think of myself as an avocado; a bit of a rough exterior, followed by a whole lot of mush surrounding a hard core with the potential for growth.  How did I forget about that mushy part?  There’s so much of it.  I don’t just have a sensitive side; I’m oatmeal disguised as gravel.  Which sounds awful now that I’ve typed it (bleh gross).

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