The Night Will Weave its Magic Spell

"Bella Notte," Lady and the Tramp Soundtrack

We saw Avatar on Saturday. In 3-D IMAX. Impressed to say the least, we left the theater talking about Sam Worthington's atrophied legs, the revolution of film over the past few decades, and James Cameron's inability to subtly imply our society isn't protecting the Earth and its resources. Oh, and the fact Joel Moore, who played Norm in Cameron's motioncapture-CGI-fest, is JP from Grandma's Boy. Once home, we watched Liz Lemon try to get out of jury duty by impersonating Princess Leia AT LEAST ten times, and then talked about our Valentine's Day plans.

"So...a nice dinner, right? La Jolla?"
"That's the plan."
"Or...we could just go to Disneyland."
"OKAY!"

And so we did. Go to Disneyland. All day yesterday. We left our house around 8:30, after filling the car with coffee, extra layers of clothing, and the perfect Disney road mix. It took us less than an hour to exit at Disney Way and park in the Pumbaa section. We went to Tomorrowland first because, well, it's the least fun of all the lands. Actually, before yesterday, I kind of hated it, since my links of association with Disney's idea of "the future" (via my 12-year-old self) go like this: Tomorrowland = Space Mountain = Nausea = "Let's sit on this bench and 'take it easy' for the next half hour" = "Paul can get a churro but Chelsea should probably just have water because if she barfs then we'll have to go home." Yesterday, however, we skipped Space Mountain entirely and instead embarked on Autopia, a ride I had never been on.

"Do you want to ride together?" Tim asked politely. "You can steer."
"Hell no. I want to race," I said, clutching my Disney-administered driver's license and getting in line.

It turns out, I am just as bad of a driver in a fake car as I am in a real one. With or without hands.

We spent the rest of the day weaving in and out of strollers, eating double-scoops of ice cream, joking and taking silly pictures in line, playing What Potential Quasi-Celebrity Is That? (Tim won with "Don Henley's dad"...so spot-on it was scary), flaunting our FastPasses to less-fortunate park-goers, and wondering why so many adults own so much Disney clothing and memorabilia.

 

Tim wishing the Finding Nemo ride included an actual SCUBA segment...

The Matterhorn was closed. This was REALLY upsetting to me, because I had secretly been hoping to see how those onion rings tasted on the way back up.

 

"Eddie would probably have gone," said Tim, when I voiced a little fear about Thunder Mountain

Because we were having so much fun (and perhaps also maybe because we had stuffed ourselves full of amusement-park junk food throughout the day), we hardly wanted to take time out for dinner. 

"There's that clam chowder in a bread bowl you like over by Pirates," mused Tim, glancing around unconvincingly at our rather meager options.
"What about a turkey leg on a stick? They're at all the food carts," I grinned, envisioning us sitting on the curb in front of Tom Sawyer's Island and the Pirate's Lair, chewing on scrappy bird bones like vultures.
"Or! There's a Denny's right outside the entrance," Tim glanced away, perhaps embarrassed by the suggestion.
"That's it! Perfect!" I said, starting towards the front of the park without hesitation. "Let's hurry. The fireworks are at 9:25, and I think we can get in both Indiana Jones and Splash Mountain before then."
"But...it's Valentine's Day..." 
"I know! And we're at Disneyland! And Denny's is fast and cheap and good! Plus, it's our fake restaurant, right?" 
"True," Tim said, cringing a little. Funnily, poignantly, (sadly?), Tim and I have all kinds of fond memories from various Denny's establishments all over California-- (okay, New Mexico, too). "Alright, let's do it," he said. "This one'll go down in the books."

We hurried out of the entrance, pausing only to have our hands slapped with the fluorescent stamp which would later deem us re-entry, and half-walked/half-ran to our romantic destination. The woman at the front desk (podium? kiosk?) greeted us with a hearty (and also, inaccurate?) "Good morning!" while simultaneously sweeping the discarded bits of trash and dignity off the floor. Before we were even seated, I noticed the Valentine's Special taped to one of the restaurant's bulletin boards:

"Well, we don't have a choice. We have to do that," I told Tim.
"Oh man. Really?"
"Absolutely. It's Valentine's Day, after all. We need to have champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. From Denny's."
Tim's pained expression was enough of a response. "You're right," he said. "We totally do."

Our Valentine's dinner, it turns out, wasn't a fancy meal in La Jolla. We didn't eat oyster shooters or Bouillabaisse or spicy prawns garnished with cilantro. We didn't have cloth napkins or Pelligrino or waiters bringing us quality wine lists-- (our waiter, instead, said, "Uh...happy Valentine's Day?" in an articulation best described as equal parts pity and shame). But it was fantastic. We were silly and happy and ridiculous. We laughed and quoted movie lines and whispered about other patrons. Our food was filling and fast, and we were out of there with plenty of time to spare for our next FastPass bracket.

 

 Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!

We stayed at Disneyland until 11 PM. We climbed Tarzan's tree house and took the Jungle Cruise at night, able to mouth some of the tour guide's bad jokes verbatim. We fought each other in the Toy Story Astroblaster (I lost dismally), and the fireworks started when we reached the top of Thunder Mountain. The park was twinkling with lights, people were screaming gleefully aboard the rocky coaster, and in the distance, the upbeat notes of Disney's "Wishes" were audible above all else. It was easily the best Valentine's Day I've ever had.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you