|I want this coat|
Oh how the Disney bug is already bubbling inside me again. This time of year, I always want to go to Disney. always. And it's not for the rides or the smiles or the audio-animatronic presidential figures.
It's for the magic.
It's for the yellow striped table umbrellas hidden down by the old swan boats that everyone seems to ignore in their rush to Space Mountain, but where I go to read and journal. And even dream.
It's for an empty Main Street, long after the rides are closed, with only the sparkle of old-fashioned street lights and the sounds of ragtime and the occasional When you wish upon a star to keep you company.
It's for Cinderella's golden carousel--even though I firmly believe it belongs to Mary Poppins--because there is something about riding a carousel horse that is just like twirling while dancing. The girl in me never, ever tires of it. Because in those moments, I stop thinking. And I smile. And I simply live.
And then the carousel comes to a screeching halt. Just like life.