Monday, March 21, 2011

Confession: Talking rodents make me twitchy

I spent all morning working on a post about a book I just read.
It is a really good book, and my post was all about the insights I had gained from it, etc. etc.

But when I read the draft of the post this afternoon, I realized that it was self-indulgent drivel. So I deleted it. And now, I have nothing to say.

It was a really good book, though. I highly recommend it.


Now, I've got nothing. I'm blank. If I can't do a completely self-indulgent, narcissistic, pretentious post about drivel, then....


Instead, I'm going to go out on a limb and confess something.

I don't like going to Disney World.

There I said it. I know, I's practically un-American of me to not enjoy Disney World. The thing is, it's not just DW...I don't really like any theme park or water park or any crowded place jammed full of irritable crowds or harried parents and whining children. Particularly in hot, humid weather - which Florida has 10 months out of the year.

Theme parks make me twitchy.

I much prefer to travel. I love visiting new places. I adore London and Seattle and Paris and New York. Ironically, the crowds in airports don't phase me at all. Perhaps it's because I've spent so much time in them. Perhaps it's because I know my way around and know what to expect. 

Surprisingly, the crowds in big cities don't bother me either. I don't want to live in New York or London, but I love visiting. I enjoy the energy and the adventure of finding my way around. I get such a sense of satisfaction from propelling my way through a crowd to get on the Underground in London, or the Metro in Paris. 

But the crowds at the Magic Kingdom? Or Epcot? Or SeaWorld? 


Seriously, they make me twitchy.

I become tense and defensive. Irritable and querulous. There is no satisfaction to be found in trying to maneuver through the crowd. It's not fun, it's stressful. 

Perhaps this makes me un-American. I have many friends who absolutely love visiting "the happiest place on earth" who do not understand my revulsion.


There. Now you know my dirty little secret.

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