Boogsey Music

Let me first start off by saying that my birthday this year really sucked.  There was no celebration and for the most part, it went unrecognized.  And to my surprise, that bothered me.  You see I always tell people not to make a fuss over me, especially on my birthday.  And this year . . . they listened.  So why was I so bummed out when I got my wish?  I guess I’m just like everybody else.  I wanted a real birthday.  So I’m sure you can imagine how much I was looking forward to an amazing belated birthday celebration with Mickey and Minnie, and my childhood best friend (I’ll call her Shelly for the sake of anonymity).

Shelly and I had planned our annual birthday-at-Disneyland but had to wait over two months to celebrate it this time.  So we finally went this weekend.  I had been anticipating visiting my favorite place and was glad the big day was finally here.  I packed a bag, hopped in my vehicle and started my day early.  I picked up Shelly, drove us to the resort, dropped off the luggage, and rode the shuttle to the “happiest place on earth!”  Full of excitement, we were prepared for some morning thrills.  First stop, Space Mountain, after which we headed straight to Finding Nemo . . . but Shelly didn’t look so good.  We forewent Nemo and found the nearest bench.  “I’m nauseous,” She said.   So we headed back to the hotel.  I’ll spare you the gory details, but after an hour nap, nausea medication, and even making that second attempt at going to Disneyland (Shelly did fast pass me to Indiana Jones but did a beeline to the nearest exit just before the ride started.  I rode it alone!) she simply could not handle another minute at Disneyland.  The smells (ugh!) . . . the crowd (oh my!) . . . the greener her face got, the more concerned I became.  Shelly’s head was spinning and her stomach was not having it!   I offered to go back to the hotel with her and forget about Disneyland altogether.   I am after all a good friend (I hope).   But Shelly kept insisting I stay and enjoy the park.  I needed her to stop apologizing.  It wasn’t her fault she got sick and I didn’t want her to feel guilty.  So I decided to go it alone.

Of all the years I’ve gone to Disneyland, I realized that I always went with a partner or a group.  After all, with whom are you going to ride the rides if you’re by yourself?  I noticed how everybody was paired off and I found myself quickly becoming extremely interested in people-watching.  I observed the coupling . . . young teens were grouped together, 30-40 something couples were manning their offspring, even grandma was in on the fun teaching little Becky all about Snow White while waiting in line.  I was acutely aware of my oneness!!   Wasn’t it the Beatles who sang, “One Is the Loneliest Number?”  That song repeatedly played in my head like “Pomp and Circumstance” for the next few solitary hours at Disneyland.  Suddenly the “happiest place on earth” became my own isolated hell.

I decided to stall by eating.  I grabbed my tray at the Pizza place and consumed more food than I wanted to as I became increasingly self-conscious.  “Was that lady staring at me?  Does the guy sitting on the other side over there think I’m a pathetic loser?” Oh the thoughts and recriminations that swam through my head all during my monotonous consumption of the ‘ginormous’ Chinese chicken salad and slice of pepperoni pizza.  To avoid the taunting eyes, I stared at my food as I ate and noticed that the pepperonis were the size of DVD disquettes.  How interesting.  I finished my meal—I had to, I just spent 20 bucks on it and I wasn’t about to leave a single crumb.  As I wandered back into the park, I couldn’t decide whether to ride a rollercoaster or watch a show.  I looked up and saw Michael Jackson’s Captain EO Tribute.  Then something psychotropic happened.  I realized that I could do exactly what I wanted!  I’ve never had that opportunity before.  Usually every ride becomes a negotiation of likes and dislikes.  I inevitably compromise my desires to please everyone involved.  This time there was only me.  I could ride any ride, see any show, eat anything I wanted, and even spend as much money as I wanted without having to explain myself.  Oh my god, I was free!

I sat in the 3^rd row, the closest I’d ever sat and I watched Captain EO in 3-D with such focus.  Michael Jackson was really talented and I wanted to change the world too just like he did in the movie.  With his music and dancing he transformed this scary scaly snake woman into Anjelica Houston!  With warm fuzzy feelings, I decided to approach Disneyland with one goal—to experience it through my eyes only.  So, I did a very different Disneyland this time.  Some of my new choices of rides weren’t so great (Storybook Land), but Small World was uplifting, and Snow White was terrifying—I was alone and that ride was so dark.  Is this really a kiddie ride?  I know . . . I’m pathetic.  I took my time through the shops, ate popcorn late at night and stared at the 60-foot Christmas tree.  I touched it too.  Awe, it’s plastic—a shattered illusion.   Some of my other guilty pleasures included handpicking root beer and black licorice jelly bellies and combining them with every other flavor until I half-filled my bag.  And last but not least, I watched the midnight show of Abraham Lincoln and left the park with a feeling of admiration and pride.  I was happy to be alive.  I wasn’t completely selfish either, I did videotape It’s a Small World in its entirety on my Blackberry for Shelly to also enjoy.

Before last night, I did Disneyland differently.  I always appreciated its otherworldliness, while enjoying the thrills, the spectacles, and the classic surroundings and well-manicured beauty, oh yeah and the parade and fireworks display.  But my experience yesterday changed everything for me and I  had a couple of things still I needed to do.  Since my first visit to Disneyland at age four, I wanted one thing but was always too embarrassed to ask.  And as an adult it seemed ridiculous.

Today Shelly was feeling much better and as part two of our Disney ritual, up next Disney Walk,  I announced, “I want a Mickey Mouse watch.”  That was literally the first time I had ever said it out loud.  Shelly looked at me with surprise, but helped me with my search for the perfect watch.   What a great friend!  We combed several Disney-themed stores and finally found the hearth that housed my timepiece.  I chose a simple, but classy chrome, 60s-inspired watch with an onyx Mickey Mouse head on the face.  It had a black band made of man-made materials—perfect for everyday!  But wait, I wasn’t done.  What about all those fashion events I go to and the dressy affairs for which I require something fancy you might ask?   Well, I found the most stunning Mickey Mouse watch I’d ever laid eyes on.  It was pricey, but I didn’t care.  It was platinum with a silver woven band and on the face, Swarovski crystals.  I had to have it.  Shelly gasped in disbelief that I would actually splurge on something so frivolous.  I informed the sales lady that it was my birthday present to myself.  Would she gift-wrap it for me?  She did one thing better.  After I made my purchase, she pinned on me the most garish button that read, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY Kaylene, Disneyland.”  I gushed.

As our visit was coming to a close, people stopped to wish me a happy birthday.  One sales girl at the Fossil store even sang the “Happy Birthday” song to me.  I received several birthday wishes at Build-a-Bear and even at our last stop, Jamba Juice.  As I left the world of Disney this afternoon, I felt like I had some great moments.  It might have been a couple of months later, but I got the birthday I wanted . . .  and I saw Disneyland in a whole new light.  This weekend was one of my most enjoyable experiences to date!  By doing Disneyland alone, I might have caught a glimpse of the way Walt himself might have wanted the world to see it.  Unfettered and pure, childlike . . . the way he had intended it to be all along.