The Happiest Place on Earth

Disneyland; the place where you can see Cinderella’s castle up close and personal, the place where you can reach out and give Mickey Mouse a hug, the place where you can pay $6.59 for a single hot dog (not including beverage), oh what a magical place it is.

I spent the entire day in “The Happiest Place on Earth” and found myself leaving the park a mere 12 hours later exhausted, sunburned, and less chipper than when I walked through the crowded doors to start my mousey journey. The trouble begins not before you hit the entrance, but two weeks prior when the hype over going to “The Happiest Place on Earth” kicks into overdrive.

You’re going to fucking Disneyland! Forget your troubles, responsibilities, and the grown up world you are forced to exist in, you’re going to a place that eternally exists to celebrate cartoons, toys, candy, and everything else a manufactured childhood is made of. You’re going to fucking Disneyland where everyone is going to be happy, and you’ll be able to take your kids on fun ride and share the common joyful experience of nearly throwing up in unison.

We began pumping Rachael up for the Disneyland experience about a week prior to arriving in California. The funny thing is that she doesn’t really watch anything Disney, but has picked up recognition of Mickey Mouse, most likely from a classmate in daycare. She echoed our excitement, but her two and a half year old brain had no clue what it was in for. Jeff was jumping out of his skin at the thought of finally walking into Mouseland with his offspring; a yearning he’s had since she was a fetus.

We arrived at 10:00 AM just in time to see a dozen school busses off-loading junior high and high school kids for their end-of-the-year field trips. I knew the day might be a little more complicated when various family members, who happened to be season pass holders, all remarked that it was busier than they had ever seen it. After an hour of standing in the sun, we had managed to send Rachael galloping on the carousel horses and flying through the air on the Dumbo ride. That’s right, a single, two-minute ride, a half hour wait. Now it was time to face the most dreaded ride of all…Small World.

When the military wants to put their soldiers through a mental endurance challenge to see how well they’ll hold up under extreme torture, they needlessly spend millions of dollars on state-of-the-art equipment, when all they have to do is keep sending their young recruits through the Small World ride and clock how many times the troops can make it through before they run screaming with ears bleeding from the park. The only thing that rivals Small World in annoyance is Tiki Room. Maybe it’s just me, perhaps I have an unusually bitter distain for animatronics, or an extreme hatred of peppy show tunes, but I can’t be the only one.

After spending seven hours mainly standing in various lines waiting in the blaring sun at “The Happiest Place on Earth”, I found myself feeling rather unhappy. I wanted to pack it up, but unfortunately, I was with a group of native Southern Californians, who couldn’t understand why I wasn’t enjoying the multiple hours on my feet and the 80 degree temperature. They had all forgotten that I was a Seattle girl, and seven hours of direct sunlight in one day was more sunlight exposure than I usually get in one year in the great Northwest. I was hot, tired, and my skin had turned from its usual pale olive tone to a deep, lobster red.

After the sun set, Rachael and I spun around Main Street for one last stroll before the big fireworks finale that ended the picture perfect day at “The Happiest Place on Earth.” We had nearly cleared all the shops when my munchkin spotted the balloon salespeople. I walked over grabbing a $5 bill from my wallet, but at “The Happiest Place on Earth” happiness doesn’t come cheap, and I walked away paying more for that balloon than I did for the hot dog previously mentioned.

Thankfully, I managed to leave spending less than $100, because my tickets were free, and any merchandise I saw that I really wanted could be purchased at one of the many knock-off stores in the Asian market back home. I will say one thing about the marketing that is 100 percent true; I will never forget the memories of today; all 12 long hours spent at “The Happiest Place on Earth.”