Every December for the past three years,
moroccomole and
djmrswhite and
fidgetcub and me play hooky for a day (to avoid the crowds) and hit Disneyland,
because it's all tarted up for Christmas.
We're not overly sentimental about the holidays per se, but this annual trip certainly hits the spot -- it kinda lets you get all of your holiday ya-yas out in one big shebang.
Seriously, it's like *mainlining* a big dose of pure, uncut Christmas -- and every year, we toke heavily and turn into giggling piles of totally baked holiday mush. The revised holiday versions of
It's a Small World and
Haunted Mansion (featuring Jack Skellington & Co.) are like happily drowning in giddy holiday glitter and glee.
It's all so freaking over the top that, by the time the fireworks fly in perfect sync to a calvalcade of carols and the faux snow falls on a twinkle-lit main street, you can't help leaving the place feeling *run over* by Christmas. In a good way.
