magic

It's been a couple of days and boy, are things going my way or what?! I'm writing this from the comfort of my Disneyworld resort bed. I'm wearing my newly-acquired Wildcats sweatshirt and generally feeling groovy. We're here celebrating my husband's birthday and, I've got to say, I've never ever seen him this happy. I love Disneyworld! When they say this place is magic, they aren't kidding. Case in point: we were watching the High School Musical celebration yesterday at MGM Studios and somebody's little rat spilled their popcorn. The kernels weren't on the ground for two seconds before two uniformed, insanely happy custodial types swooped down and neutralized the mess. Forget Fantasia. That shit was amazing. Still, it got me thinking about the dark underbelly of Disney. What happens behind the scenes that makes all this happiness possible? I bet there's a Disney super-pimp that puts the smack down on insolent employees. "Bitch betta have my Mickey!"

Anyway, today one of my best friends is getting married. I'm happy for him, but I also feel like I'm losing a part of him. I shouldn't be so possessive, right? I mean, what gives me the right to say "You must remain alone forever so you can be at my disposal anytime I want" when the same rules don't apply to me? He called me yesterday for advice about the wedding and I felt myself getting agitated. Here I am, about to board the Great Movie Ride and you're rubbing in my face that, in a few short hours, your chick is going to insert herself into our lives, rendering our friendship paralyzed, if not completely DOA? Ridiculously selfish, but hand-to-God, it's my truth.

A few years back, I traveled to Florida to meet my best friend from middle school again (the last time I saw her, I was a freshman in high school). Well, she was basically the same person, except she had another best friend, a husband and two kids. Don't get me wrong. It was wonderful to see her again, but I felt left out. I mean, I'm supposed to be her only best friend. And who gave her permission to grow up? These thoughts threatened to ruin my day before my good sense finally intervened.

This latest trip to Disneyworld has got me thinking: Why don't we believe in magic anymore? Why can't things just be what they are without hidden meanings or consequences? Who granted permission for any of us to grow up?