I was supposed to go to Vegas this weekend and I’m glad I didn’t. Besides the fact of people I know from So. Cal going, Mr. Caramel ended up going. Now, this is just my luck but where ever I am at, no matter how big the area is, I will always run into people. This is just how I was designed, I guess with a very receptive magnetic force.
To celebrate me avoiding this I ended up going to Disneyland with my friend.
I of course ran into two of my cousins from my dad’s side, their significant others, someones’ kid, and someone’s sister…twice. I never really got along with these cousins so it’s always an awkward visit. I try to keep these get together scarce, such as in someone’s wedding, funeral, or child-birth. It works better this way.
The thing that got me was when she looked around, and asked, “so it’s just you two?”
Yes, it’s just me and my friend.
What the hell!
After a fake smile the only thought in my head was yes, just because I didn’t get knocked up by the first guy I fucked.
That’s the bad part about Disneyland, if you go with certain people. It can either bring you up or down. You can either be a child or get like my friend who curses insanely more when at this theme park. It will also point out how alone you are, and how gay you are. We got gayer as the day progressed. We went on the merry-go-round, we took pictures by the castle, and we watched the fireworks. The whole time I thought, this is what my life has been reduced to? Underneath a romantic sky, with shooting stars, wishing bones, smiles, giggles, and hugs around me, with my friend of the same-sex? The whole thing sickened me.
On top of seeing them I ran into a girl that I hate. This is the girl I talked about how we work on “spite.” She of course was with her boyfriend. I didn’t want her to see me alone. It was Romy and Michele’s high school reunion all over again.
I know she saw me but was glad that our mutual spite led us to turn the other way around being only inches apart in line.
With all of my emotional crap Disneyland wasn’t the happiest place on earth.
I may have mentioned my fear of pregnancy before but at Disneyland it escalates. With all the strollers, all the crying children… it kills me.
Then deep, deep, like when the Grinch’s heart grows, I tell my friend how I eventually want children, eventually marriage. How I want the cliché proposal in front of the castle.
I blame it on me being sober and the children dressed up as princesses.
I’m not looking for a prince, but more of at least a solid stable feeling to get me through the week.
The highlight was meeting Mickey Mouse, the big cheese himself. I should’ve asked him out.
By the way, how come there isn’t a Prince at Disneyland that we can meet? ….I’d ride that.