Kiddo’s dad and I enjoyed the thrills and perks of a frontal lobotomy over the weekend.
At least, I presume that is what happened. Nothing else could possibly have made us believe Disneyland in the middle of August on a Sunday would be a good idea.
Truth be told, I dreaded the venture much like a trip to the dentist. It’d be worth it in the end, but it ain’t gonna feel good. Thing is, the kid was promised a trip quite some time ago and I never followed through. I kind of hate myself for that. Big Plans become projectile promises and then any number of seven dozen solid reasons and a few flimsy ones keep me from acting on said promise. (I should really make a list of these and get to work on my follow through…)
…and it was free. Why not, right?
This summer has not been sweltering, but then, I’ve yet to surround myself with 50,000, give or take, tourists either. Dripping sweat, we waited in line for The Haunted Mansion under the assumption that we would shortly walk right next door and board Splash Mountain for a nice afternoon spritz. Sadly the anticipated splash-climax was out of our reach, as the ride was closed. We endured the heat and it didn’t take long for me to realize I was having a genuine good time. The crowd wasn’t so bad. The heat wasn’t going to kill me. And mostly, the kid was walking on springs with joy.
Being that Kiddo is AWESOME (and also over forty inches tall) she was able to ride just about everything. Like most kids might try to act much tougher than they are for sake of impression (like when I did a flip off the high dive in front of my entire class in fifth grade… ow) Kiddo usually wants to impress her dad and I. We’re the cool kids, according to her. So nothing was going to be too fast or too scary. We thought.
On Haunted Mansion and Tower of Terror: “I never want to go on that ride again.”
On Space Mountain: Dazed, windblown, wide-eyed, and a sudden BURST into tears when the ride came to a stop.
But Thunder Mountain? Roger Rabbit? Pinocchio? Monsters, Inc? WILD good time, friends.
We thought Toon Town would be a real kick in the pants for her. This is like offering iceberg lettuce for dessert. The kid is not impressed by the big and the fancy and the noisy. Someone had her in mind when they constructed this portion of Disneyland and yet it did nothing for her. Her dad and I looked to each other in confusion and realized almost as if for the first time that she is our offspring. This is so us.
Example: Co-worker just gave me a Kleenex box covered in cartoon germs that look like monsters and I squealed.
When asked what Dad would do with ten grand, he told a group of guys that he’d spend it all on action figure and juice boxes. Knowingly, his friend pointed out, “This guy ain’t kidding.” And I assure you friends, he is not.
Kiddo is a shrieking, squealing delight for the laundromat or the library or 7-11. Disneyland, while quite the fun day, didn’t totally strike her the way it would and should most kids.
And I am perfectly cool with that.
While Kiddo shunned Woody, Jessie, Pluto and Goofy, we all but shoved her into this shot:
because, my god, the queen was hot. She told Kiddo, “I’m your favorite queen, isn’t that right?” And we were mildly hot and bothered, having inappropriate thoughts of the things we would hope she’d do… in character, of course.
-CJ
A year ago, I would not have even considering sitting at a sushi bar.
Six months ago, I would not have given the menu more than a glance without sticking my nose up in disgusted defiance.
Things have changed, my friends. That pretty jalapeno ahi platter was delicious. As was the Sapporo. And sake. And fried albacore. And strawberry cream filled Koala cookies. (It’s the cutest infestation ever!)
Plus there was three fabulous friends there at the small granite sushi bar, and my beebs, who is really getting good with chopsticks, I must say.
-CJ
*Don’t I get a prize for using a Word of the Day in a sentence?
In a surprising four hours, we drove to Havasu last Friday night. Kiddo snugged in the back with Ree and I helped not at all with navigation while me Ma drove. We met up with uncles and aunts and cousins and friends and the sun was so kind to us. The weather was just right and not a blistering 120 degrees as expected in mid August.
Kiddo was prepared for any adventure the city could hand her.
Though she was beat by Sunday afternoon, as we headed home.
My favorite part was playing Blackjack at the casino with my relatives. There’s not enough actual-for-real-blood-relatives that I am close to but it just so happened a lot of them were there and we all played pretty damn well.
Next trip: parasailing!
-CJ
Filed under: teevee
I caught up on Weeds last night, between my roomie and my dog, with a flute glass in hand.
“You put a key on my kite during a shit storm!” -Doug
Filed under: workplace
Fridays in our little remote fifty-er-so employee office are relatively quiet, as people generally schedule ‘offsite meetings’ and the like. Quiet here though is being able to hear someone sneeze in the next city. So when some kid just raised his arms in triumph, wielding a cell phone, and yelled, “I just owned this guy in Battleship!” we were all slightly startled.
-CJ
I have the priviledge of skipping town again this weekend. Being that everywhere I’ve ever lived has had a higher lady-to-dude ratio, and I live with all females now (save for male Chihuahua mix, Rylie, but he’s uber-femme) it’s a wonder I still get my rocks off on girl-trips. Which this is not, but the five hour car trip toward the lake is.
Havasu is all beers and mimosas and hard liquors and gambling and dancing and floating and boating and the occassional meal but when I bring Kiddo, the shenans are scaled down to those of a six-year-old.
And may I just say, her kinda fun should never be underrated. If we come home tattooed and/or pierced, scarred, and five pets richer I would be surprised NOT AT ALL.
Send sunblock.
-CJ
Filed under: frenz
I get notes on my dashboard.
-CJ
Last night in Huntington:
Hot dogs, s’mores, fire, wine and laaaaaaaaaaaaaughs.
-CJ
Filed under: daily
Recently my budget conscious brain tried thinking of ways to barter a couple services I need. I don’t have much to offer, considering my skillz are mostly in the realm of reading books and playing with my kid, but I offered up some ideas on craigslist in exchange for body work on my car. My once shiny, new car met my dad’s shiny new truck a while back. It was an aggressive introduction to my rear fender and tail light. And then there was the cement wall vs XB incident of 2008, following a day spent at San Diego Street Scene and a microbrewery in Solana Beach. I’ve mostly just dealt with these marks, though I’d be lying if I said they didn’t irk me every time I see a new shiny box. My car’s former self. We huddle together and reminisce on what was.
Before:
Anyway, I figured it was a long shot.
But within twenty-four hours, I had a response offering service for no exchange. He said he liked helping people. And as much as I would love to have pushed wads of cash into his pocket for generosity’s sake, it’s not the kind of thing I have laying around.
We met up, made conversation, listened to music, and within an hour, about 90% of the marks were gone after a good wet sanding and buff. He gave me direction on how to heal the marks that were down to the primer and offered to help me with those when I got some touch up paint.
I gave profuse thanks and agreed to spread the word about his company to my friends and family. He sent me home with a bounce in my step.
Just because it’s not right in front of you waving a microfiber detail rag doesn’t mean the awesome giving power of your community isn’t there.
& also, SUPERSHINE.COM
-CJ
