So, I went to Disneyland today. Amazing. So many stories. I can't share them all (i.e. using someone else's internet right now), but I will tell you them all soon enough, my darlings.

One story though:

I've leaving Disneyland at closing time, right? I've been walking all day. My feet are sore. The back of my thighs are tightening up. I'm exhausted. I've had fun, but I'm exhausted.

So, the last things you see before leaving Disneyland are this: the center square garden, the train that takes you anywhere you want to go, and finally, the lost-child headquarters. And as I'm walking out of Disneyland, I look into the lost-child headquarters and see a young mother sitting on a bench, holding her 4 year-old son. One arm wrapped firmly around his waist and another hand running down the back of his head. And if there's any moment she lets go of him, it's too wipe away the tears running down her cheeks.

She had lost her son. But she had found him.

And if you looked real closely, you could see the mother kissing her child's ear and whispering secret words - saying things like, "I'm sorry" and "This will never happen again" and "I can't imagine ever being separated from you."

Goddamn. Disneyland is beautiful.