August 31, 2006
Jill Brooks, INtake columnist

Yesterday I spent the day at Disneyland in good old Anaheim California.

My boyfriend and I are visiting his family, and on my wish list was the Magic Kingdom, near where they live.

My childhood family vacations tended to involve canoes, tents and hiking, but several times we went to King’s Island.

I never got a wink of sleep the night before a trip to King’s Island. It was cool, and the Brady Bunch hung out there too, I told myself.

When planning our California adventure, my boyfriend explained that the rides at Knott’s Berry Farms were a lot more frightening; my response was: Knott’s Berry Farms is a real place?

I thought Knott’s was like Hidden Valley, or Keebler Forest, merely crafted by marketing people to sell jam, salad dressing or cookies.

I’m a Midwestern girl, and so my theme park knowledge was a little underdeveloped.

The decision was mine, and though I’d rather experience thrill rides, I couldn’t pass up Disney.
Those Disney commercials - the ones that put a little tear in my eye - are real!

The minute we arrived to the park I felt my inner toddler come forward, like one of those personalities Sybil had and no one knew about.

Within minutes of disembarking from the Lion King tram, I ran into Geppetto. I got a little giddy and wanted his autograph.

Next came Woody, from Toy Story; I made my boyfriend take my photo with him.

All day long, in between rides and our 35 dollar lunch, I searched for characters.

We rode Space Mountain twice and the music was so good that I now want the soundtrack. Is it available? Please say I can maintain this fantasy.

I ran into the evil queen from Snow White, and Cruella De Vil, but when I made my boyfriend stop to watch the parade, and I saw Ariel live in the flesh, I got a happy chill down my back despite the blanketing summer heat of southern California.

As a rule, I don’t disclose every facet of myself to my boyfriend, but at the Magic Kingdom I learned that one cannot think straight.

I mentioned the chills and goose bumps I was experiencing, and I asked if we could get a little closer so I could take a decent photo of Ursula, the sea witch.

I’m not sure if he’ll ever look at me the same way again.

Disneyland is 50 years old this year; I suggest that every inner child make a visit.