Disneyworld
Jeanna Eads

Iím too excited to sleep. I lie awake, tossing and turning. Itís not as if this is my first time. I know what to expect, I know everything. The way the air feels, the way it smells. I can hear the sounds as if I were actually there. I know how the rides will go and the warnings given. I can recite them in both English and Spanish. I know Disney World. Iím too excited to sleep.

My husband and I have not gone on a trip by ourselves since our honeymoon seven years ago. Where, believe it or not, we went to Disneyland. It was fun and exciting and new. Then, in 2001, shortly after 9/11, we went to Disneyworld with my entire family. Although very fun, itís a very different experience with four other adults, a three year old and a three month old. My husband hasnít been to a Disney park any other time than Christmas since he was a kid, so we decided we would go during Spring break. Just us -- no family, no friends. A second honeymoon of sorts. After a very strenuous year, we need a vacation.

Our plane leaves bright and early in the morning. We fly from here to Seattle to Orlando. It sounds easy enough. I have managed to obtain some sort of flying curse and something inevitably goes wrong. I pray that this time, this vacation, the curse will be lifted. I just want to make our flight, make the connection, not be held up by over zealous TSA workers. I just want to get to Disneyworld.

The next morning finally arrives and I am so excited I donít even notice the threat of exhaustion from my sleepless night. With anti-anxiety medication in hand, I sit impatiently at the small Eugene airport. My husband, bless him, sleeps peacefully on the floor next to me. It must be nice to be so laid back.

I find a friend who is flying to Mexico and review with her the very detailed, very researched itinerary I have made for our trip. I have graphs and charts, books and maps. I have the best days to go to each park. I have the order we will ride the rides. I have everything scheduled, planned, and ordered. I am ready. My husband continues to sleep on the floor. Dreaming, Iím sure of a vacation without plans or details, without schedules, time frames, or agendas.

Our flight is called and we get up to leave. My friend wishes me good luck, as she has been with me on one of my cursed flights, and we are off. Surprisingly all goes as planned. No broken down planes, cancelled flights, or strange security searches. We rent movies, relax, and land safely in Orlando.

It is incredible to me what Disney thinks of. They are staffed with marketing geniuses. We get off the plane, make our way downstairs and are greeted by lovely people wearing big Mickey gloves pointing us to our charter bus. We do not have to get our luggage, we simply get on the bus. Knowing that my traveling curse being lifted was too good to be true, the bus ride was quite adventurous, taking 2 hours longer than necessary, traveling at incredible speeds and ending in fellow tourists giving the driver directions, finally making it to our hotel. We check in, and our luggage is delivered to our door shortly thereafter.

I canít wait any longer. I have to go to the park. I need to walk onto Main Street and see the sights, hear the sounds, and smell all of the wonderful smells I have had memorized since I was five. I have to see Disneyworld. To me, there is nothing more fun, more exhilarating, or more magical than walking through the tunnel onto Main Street. The train bell clanging behind you, the horse drawn carriage in front of you, and the music that is so jolly, you canít help by smile.

I have never been more excited than this. I grab my husbandís hand and just stop. I take it all in as if itís my first visit. Those first few moments are breath-taking. They are why I couldnít sleep last night. Gone are my plans, my details, and my schedule. I just want to stand there, exhilarated and carefree.