Last weekend, I managed to convince DG and GB to go to Disneyland. Along for the ride was SH, DG's friend from work - one who had never been to the happiest place on earth. We all met up down in Anaheim ready for a day of fun. Not forced fun. Real fun.
Although I wanted to spend a good chunk of the day down there, I didn't realize the itinerary went from lunchtime to almost park closing time. Uh, ok. I guess I better eat some more Dole whip to keep me going all day.
Surprisingly, we managed to hit a lot of rides. We went on Space Mountain (where you might get decapitated in the dark), Indiana Jones (almost), Buzz Lightyear (for the competitive side of you), California Screamin', Soarin' over California (hmmm...smell that pine), the Orange vomit inducing swings, Tower of Terror, Thunder Mountain, and Small World (who said brainwashing wasn't fun?). Even better, we managed to polish off two bottles of wine at Ralph Brennan's Jazz Kitchen while learning that our waitress was almost a decade younger than us. (Oh, I was in 6th grade when the Macarena came out...)
Let's not forget that this was the night that I learned that I really do have man hands...
The one ride that brought the fun home was Splash Mountain. Who had the great idea of going on when it was cold and turning dark??? DG???? The one person with splash-resistant clothing??? Needless to say, we all came away drenched from that friggin' ride. I was walking around the park for hours with stiff jean legs...
And no...we are not going on Grizzly Run no matter how many beignets you offer me.
Even though it took about 48 hours to completely dry off from the adventure, I'm glad we braved the rapids. Isn't it more fun when things don't go exactly as planned?
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