Disney vs. Feet

So I couldn’t write and schedule my post yesterday because I didn’t get home from Disneyland until late and I passed out–which is weird, considering how little I tend to sleep. Needless to say: I’m exhausted, stressed, and sitting on campus to write this post.

Coming down from a Disney high is awful. I won’t compare it to drugs because I have no idea how the two compare, as I am an annual pass holder for Disneyland, but as far as drugs go, taking two aspirin is my version of “tripping.” I can’t think of a worse punishment than letting someone go to Disneyland and then making them go back to work or school. I want to be full of wonder and joy, and instead, I’m re-reading my notes from last week. Plus I’m physically tired: three straight days of Disney will do that to you. Especially if it was raining for 2/3rds of your trip. But whatever, it was Disneyland. Nothing can rain on your parade there. And I literally watched a parade from underneath an umbrella yesterday, so that wasn’t even just an idiom.

No, it wasn’t the rain that threatened my weekend… it was my feet. Since I was little, wearing flip flops for long Disney trips has been my trademark. (“Don’t your feet hurt?” “NOTHING CAN HURT ME HERE”) I have no need for padded shoes, I was young and invincible. That is, I was young and invincible until this weekend. I wore tennis shoes the first day, and my feet had the familiar low throb by the end of the day, but halfway through our second day, my feet were burning, and that feeling didn’t go away. In fact, they still hurt. It’s the worst: having to stop every few minutes to sit down whenI knew Camille was anxious to go on another ride. Every time I sat down, I gained a little bit of feeling back into my feet, but that would only last five minutes or so after I started walking again. I don’t know if it’s because I’m older and I can’t handle the walking anymore or what (aren’t I supposed to be this unstoppable force at twenty two? I thought that’s what twenty two was… besides watching friends get engaged while holding two handles of vodka in the middle of Target–see one of my previous posts). It’s silly. But hey, we got all of our favorite rides in, took some great pictures, and ate cake pops and corn dogs. It was a hell of a weekend. And after a crazy debacle with Southwest and LAX, I’m glad she’s home safe and sound. Thanks for a fantastic weekend, princess. 🙂

As Rita Rudner once said, “Some people think having large breasts makes a woman stupid. Actually, it’s quite the opposite: a woman having large breasts makes men stupid.”

-Megan