How to Become a Disney Fanatic

Seriously, have no idea how this happened.

You're not a rainbows and jellybeans kind of girl. You like black. A lot. Books about the apocalypse. Dark, twisted senses of humor. Drag queens.

Maybe it's the drag queens. It occurs to you while searching online for pirate costumes that maybe this is not so different from being 18 and visiting Patricia Field for extra long sparkly eyelashes to wear to Club USA. Once upon a time you found it acceptable wear seven inch sneakers around New York City. You pinned sunflowers on your boobies, put your hair up in pigtails, went out dancing and thought it was divine.

But now you're 32 and you live in suburbia and people would look at you funny if you had sunflowers on your boobies at the gym. Where did all the costume go? All the drama? All the magic?

Yes. You know that Mickey is an evil corporate mouse who wants to take over the world. You know that Epcot Paris is not the real Paris any more than La Vegas New York is the real New York. You know it's all whitewashed fakery and it's bourgeois for you to like it and really aren't you educated and cultured enough to want to experience the real world, warts and all?

But then you enter the gates to the Magic Kingdom and there are little girls carrying pink and silver balloons with princesses on them and happy giant characters smiling and waving. There are sparkly parades with thousands and thousands of twinkling lights and music that makes you cry it's so beautiful. There's ice cream and cotton candy and salty popcorn and amazing fireworks that literally make you OOH and AHH. And best of all is that it's okay to be silly. You get to forget that you're looking and acting like a total dork because everyone else is too! You're a kid again--just for one day and it's hard not to giggle because all of a sudden, no matter how many times you do it, you get that little shiver of anticipation for the magic.


Try this at home:
What makes you feel like a kid again?