Disneyness

Just completed day five in the world of Disney and I feel like the little mouse has burrowed into my brain and left his ears logo etched onto my amygdala.  I am possibly suffering from a psychological disneyorder, if you will.

The amygdala plays a primary role in the formation and storage of memories associated with emotional events which is probably why I can't stop thinking about this: how the hell do Disney take all the taste out of food? How do they do that?  They magically make an appetising-looking cheeseburger taste like nothing.  We'll never know.  It's the magic of Disney.

We are having a night in from the big D tonight, because it's bloody hard yakka and we forgot to go to theme park boot camp before we came over here.  But it's just a temporary disneychantment; we'll be back out there tomorrow.  You need a lot of stamina to get through the day here.  So, instead, we did some laundry this evening.  I'm sorry if that's not interesting enough for you.

When I was walking back after picking up my clean clothes - so they can get drenched again in Florida's daily torrential downpour/hurricane tomorrow - I could of sworn I saw Mickey's ears in the sky, a la the Batman sign.  See, it's carved into my amygdala.  I don't have any scientific evidence to prove that this is a thing, but I imagine that if anyone can do it Disney will nail the shit out of it.

The one thing that they can't do is keep all the kiddies out of the parks.  Who in their right mind would take children to Disney?!  I can't imagine anything more horrible.  Children are highly annoying, and they completely ruin your day.  And why, for the love of god, do people allow their five-year-old to steer a pram?  For fucks sake.

Every day we are shuttled to any Disney park we want from our hotel.  Driving around the whole Disney complex - highways included - you get the idea that the whole of Orlando is purpose built by the uber multinational, as a snug little home-away-from-home for it's star, Mickey Mouse.  His east coast abode.

Disney don't do dirt. Or cigarette butts on the ground.  Or trash on the side of its highways.  They go above and beyond to keep the place picture perfect.  And it is very much appreciated.  Every tree, every road, every overpass is artificially created, and it seems that nothing is actually real, but everything is in fact very real, just very manufactured.  I actually love this place.

Kids may love Disney, but parents not so much.  I think I witnessed the early warning signs of divorce on at least five occasions today.  Mummy and daddy travelling to crowded theme parks in summer with four kids and the mother-in-law will do that to you.  The Disney staff, however, are so friendly that I suspect they are Disneybots.

I have been fond of Disney since I visited Disneyland in Anaheim two years ago.  It's a brilliant business model; market your company as the happiest place on earth and then people will desperately want to return, even though their pockets are being drained and they become devoid of anything resembling sanity.  Theme park madness, it is.