ROAD TRIP THOUGHTS

I decided to write down my thoughts and excerpts of our conversations during our trip to Disneyland and Arizona last week, and then I later decided to put them here because they made me laugh. Perhaps they will make you do the same, or at least cause you to question why you read anything on this blog. Both of those things are healthy, so here you go. 

Driving on the freeway in Southern California is like playing Checkers. If you leave a space open in front of you cars will come through and double jump you and the cars next to you and you'll be missing two checkers before you even know what happened. Turning signals are not things here, apparently. It's either Checkers of some game of tic tac toe where you always lose.

I finally realized what SoCal meant, on my own, out of nowhere today. I always thought it was some sort of adjective, like "that is SO Cal!" but I finally realized that it's a moniker for the place. Like a shortened version of Southern California, i.e. "I live in SoCal." Apparently people here can't handle saying a name with lots of syllables in it unless it starts with a K and ends with -ardashian. Also, I am an idiot.

The only thing I've ever done in Las Vegas is go to In and Out while passing through on road trips. And I feel like "In and Out" is a very fitting description of my relationship with the city. In and out. That's it. I drive in, eat their greasy fare, and get back on the interstate as soon as I can. Las Vegas is gross.

Also, why don't they try to make Las Vegas look nicer? It's like, "Welcome to Las Vegas, how did you like driving through that post apocalyptic landscape riddled with electric plants and sketchy looking contraptions?" Las Vegas doesn't try to hide the fact that it's just a really, really gross place. There's no illusion. And if this fact wasn't obvious by the desolate, ugly scenery and the janky roads, the millions of billboards advertising plastic surgery should be enough to prove that.

We tried to name as many songs about California as we could think of while driving, thinking that there were a lot, and we stopped after Hotel California, California Dreaming, and California Girls, by the Beach Boys. I KNOW THERE ARE MORE THOUGH. I suppose we'll just stick with the Blue Jean Committee. 

I don't understand guys who ride motorcycles just wearing a thin shirt. It looks like the wind is attacking them. That doesn't seem particularly fun to me. But then again, I like knitting and they probably don't. 

Southern California, the place where national forests don't actually have trees and chain link fences are decorated with random scraps of barbed wire.

If Tim McGraw was Tom McGraw, he probably wouldn't be as popular. Tom? That just doesn't have the same ring to it. 

The new "Hyperspace Mountain" at Disneyland is really just Space Mountain put to Star Wars music. But I've never cared less. 

I bet the job to wear the Mickey costume isn't very coveted. It would suck to stand there for hours hugging children in this humidity. I bet the morning assignments in the character department go something like this: 

          Boss: Okay, guys, here's the schedule for next week.

          Jeffery: OH NO. I can't be Mickey again! I was Mickey once five years ago!

          Boss: I'm sorry, Jeffery, but someone has to do it.

         Kevin: YES. I'm that really gross looking, obscure character that no one wants to get a picture with! I can just walk around and hang out in the shade for hours! 

Things I learned today: Standing in front of people and not moving is America's real national pastime, lingerie is apparently considered acceptable attire in a park for children, and my feet actually disintegrate after hours of standing. Also, Splash Mountain isn't that bad.

SO MANY STROLLERS.

Buying things in Disneyland happens in increments of ten. Corn Dog? $8.89. T-shirt? $19.99. Nicer t-shirt? $30.00. Random souvenir you really don't need? $80.00. 

They say going to Disneyland is more fun with kids. Now I know that to be true, because my husband is a giant child. He has the spider-man mickey ears to prove it. 

I think a lot of girls say Belle is their favorite princess because because she's smart and brunette, and liking her makes them seem different and cooler and smarter than people who like the other, blonder princesses, but there is so much more to her than just that! We shouldn't distill her down to one thing—her intelligence—that's stereotyping her! She's also beautiful, has a blue and white dress, lives in France, and like, the coolest guy in town has a crush on her! She is so complex! 

I found the one thing that Disneyland skimps on. Toilet paper. The toilet paper here is like glorified tissue paper, and it angers me. But then I step outside and see all the perfection and glory and I forget about it.

Had an epiphany today after watching both Finding Dory and The Bourne Identity. Dory is Jason Bourne. Dory doesn't know who she is or where she comes from, and spends the whole movie trying to figure it out, and Jason Bourne wakes up with no idea who he is and tries to figure it out for three movies. There's even a part in The Bourne Identity where he says "just keep walking," which is basically the equivalent of Dory's "Just keep swimming." So yeah.

How do you know you're in Kanab? The locks on the bathroom stalls in public restrooms are door locks. Like, from regular doors you'd find in a house. 

I wonder if anyone has ever met their spouse in a McDonalds. I feel like that could happen in Kanab because the whole town is here today. Hot singles near you...in the McDonalds.

What I have learned about McDonalds after eating it so many times in one week: at least it's consistent.

I wish I had a droid that would follow me around everywhere like BB-8, but that was a garbage can. That way I could throw things away anywhere I am. This is a good idea. 

I think sweet and sour sauce should just be called sweet sauce. There ain't nothing sour about that stuff. There ain't no essence of gummy worm patch kid watermelon sours in that recipe. There ain't any reason why I keep saying ain't. 

McDonalds offers me unlimited variations of my two favorite white powders: sugar and salt. What if we just ate the amount of sugar and salt in one meal here in their distilled forms? Like, here's a pound of salt—enjoy! Here's a straw. 

Airgas is the best company name ever. It's so delightfully redundant. Airgas. That's like me saying "Give me a glass of that waterliquid" or "I shall plant this flower in the dirtsolid."

Coming across an RV on the road would be a lot more fun if people named their RVs like they do their boats. Instead of saying "WHY IS THIS RV IN THE FAST LANE MOVE OVER DANGIT," our reactions would be like this:

       Dad: Okay, kids here's another one! Looks like it's called The Santa Maria!

      Billy: Whoa! That's the fifth one today, after The Pegasus, Mary Sue, Serendipity, and The Lady of the West! 

       Mom: Add that to your road trip book, Billy! 

     Dad: I sure don't mind driving 20 miles under the speed limit behind such interesting vehicles. 

Snoopy wearing a scary cape = Spoopy.