I realize I've been MIA for about 3 weeks. The shame of it all. :( But the day we went to Disneyland, my mom was watching Adam and long story short, fell down the stairs and broke her leg. So things have been a little busy around these parts, and with Christmas coming...well, ok...excuse out of the way. Moving on...
Back to Disneyland...
"Get your 20-something ASS out of Fantasyland!!" is what I wanted to say. Allow me to wrap up Fantasyland for you young adults out there so that you can move on with your life;
#1 - Prince Charming isn't coming. Trust me. Trust US! (Look at the faces of all the 40-something mothers in line for 45 minutes with their children. Do these look like the faces of women who have been SAVED?! So do us the small favor of taking your "Juicy" butt to another 'land'!) Prince Charming is living in his mama's house playing X-box and hoping for Kinectimals from Santa. Guess what...he's gonna get it!
#2 - The glass slipper might fit, but buy your own damn shoes so you don't have to rely on someone else.
#3 - I'M your fairy godmother and I have an important message for you...GET A LIFE!
Where you should be headed is Tommorowland, as in ..."TOMORROW I needs to find me a job to pay for my shoes so I don't have random TUESDAYS to spend at the Magic Kingdom where I dropped $150 before I reached Sleeping Beauty's Castle!"
And filming the parade?...Really? Really. Gonna TRY to push my baby out of the way so you can see the PEOPLE DRESSED UP AS POOH AND TIGGER!??! News Flash: THEY AREN'T REAL!!!!!!! In line for the Princess Meet & Greet? Really? Nothing better to do? Nada? How about this idea, let me put on my Imagineer helmet for a second and imagine 2 lines to meet the princesses. One line for little 2-8 year old girls and their tired, haggard, want-to-jump-off-the-Matterhorn parents. And one line entitiled, "Pitiful Bastards". I'm thinking a 5-1 ratio. Five little girls to 1 pitiful bastard. Sounds fair. I can hear it now, "Ok girls, it's your turn! And we have 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 sweet little girls...and 1 pitiful bastard."
Please God, let me have this job! I believe me and my wooden spoon are up to the task!
What I’m Packing: Cruise to Havana…
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