Monday, March 5, 2012

I mustache you a question...

(***CONFESSION: This is actually a post from over a month ago that I never got around to posting. If this offends you just consider it "vintage" and then it will feel trendy instead.)

So there I am, riding passenger side through Barstow, California on New Years Eve, sicker than a dog. 
I am wearing the same sweats that forced a middle aged man at the last gas station to tap me on the shoulder and say "you have...uh...something on your pants." 
To which I replied, "Thank you. I sat in Mayonnaise."
My head is wrapped up in the new faux-fur-throw (say that five times fast) that my Grandparents got me for Christmas (I'm that hard to shop for,) and I'm periodically moaning between waves of nauseousness as traffic spins circles around my driver who is trying his best to keep things steady and in my stomach. 

Said driver, who also happens to be my fiance, does the only thing he can do in the situation and puts on some calming Disney music, a cure-all for his family as well as for most of Mormon culture, one that produces annoyingly positive results despite my bitter cartoon-networky-protests.
We make it through the basics first: "The Bare Necessities," "Kiss the Girl," "A Whole New World." 
It isn't until we finish a Spanish version of "Colors of the Wind" (an ironic combo) that he can't take it anymore and bursts into song just in time for music from "Tangled" to come on. 

"...All those days chasing down a daydream
All those years living in a blur
All that time never truly seeing
Things, the way they were
Now she's here shining in the starlight
Now she's here, suddenly I know..."

I thought about the words he was singing for a second, thought about my mayo-stained predicament, and laughed until I almost threw up, and then silently giggled to myself for the rest of the drive. 
The ideas Disney puts into little heads.
They are wonderful, and beautiful and incredibly idealistic, and I guess that mayo probably would shine in the starlight, but I just can't imagine a fiance barfing in the passenger seat as they bypass the world's first Del Taco is any little boy (or girl's) daydream.

I guess I should clarify.
My children will definitely watch Disney movies. And I doubt all their hopes and dreams will be determined by what they see and hear in them (most little kids just think the horse is funny.)
I think what I'm trying to say is, I'd rather be laughing my blanket-wrapped head off in an X-Terra in the middle of the Mojave Desert than singing in a 2-Dimensional boat about my sparkling blur of a life to an 18 year old.
Somehow I resist this whole scene:
(sorry Brynn.)

In other news: I'm getting married next month.
Cool for me!



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