So I went to The Happiest Place on Earth yesterday. And it really is just that. It's timeless. Ageless. All your worldly cares seem to dissipate the moment you park in a lot named after Woody or Donald Duck. You don't even mind that the parking space cost you $15 and it's out in the middle of nowhere. Because you're at Disneyland and for just one day you can wear an outrageous hat without a second thought. No one will judge you because you have Mickey Mouse or Goofy ears hanging from your head. In fact, your respectability increases with the eccentricity of your head wear.
Still, there remains the fear of being judged based off other...character traits. As we boarded the Finding Nemo submarine, the boys sitting on the row of fold-down chairs next to my cousin Katie sat down as far apart as possible. This was most likely an attempt to prove to the rest of us that they were, in fact, not homosexual. Katie said, "uh, guys, I need to pull down my seat." The kid reluctantly scooted closer to his friend (gay alert! gay alert!). A quick glance at him left me puzzled. I thought to myself, "I don't know what's gayer: you sitting next to your guy friend, or the fact that you are wearing a chipmunk on your head."
Case in point.