Lære å lære: I'm Not Feeling Very Magical...

Sometimes the mountain

is hidden from me in veils

of cloud, sometimes

I am hidden from the mountain

in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue,

when I forget or refuse to go

down to the shore or a few yards

up the road, on a clear day,

to reconfirm

that witnessing presence.

--Denise Levertov.

Disney World, one would imagine, is the last place to reconfirm that witnessing presence. Busy, fake, and a madhouse of materialism and un-ironic media representations of what’s wrong with America, it seems like the last place one would go for catharsis. But this weekend I took off two days of school to head down to Florida with some friends. As we walked through the airport in Orlando, one of our party stuck behind on a later flight due to airline blunders, one of our group remarked, “I’m not feeling very magical” in a singsong voice that became the mantra of the trip. And yet, by the end, it was all magical.

I went with the right people. At Harry Potter Land (which I think is also called Universal Studios by some muggles), we freaked out over Hogwarts, shrieked our way through rides that probably little children could do without fuss, and kicked back for drinks and people-watching at suitable intervals throughout the day. On Shabbat, they were nonplussed by the dinner invite I received in our resort lobby (“Wait, you somehow found out that that guy is your high school friend’s husband’s family’s close friends from New York, and they invited you to dinner at their room? And you’re going??? We’ll come after you if you get taken”) but accepting. I taught them the term “bageled” and one inadvertently mixed it up with biscuited, so we have a neologism to share:

‘Biscuited’: identified as a Southerner by another Southerner for the sole purpose of rejoicing in their mutual Southernism.

And, of course, Sunday morning, three of us woke up at 2:30 am to run our first half-marathon. Dressed as Disney princesses. May have been the most fun ever. I’m hooked. It was fantastic. The adrenaline surge was incredible. Our goal was that we all finish together, and we did. The goal for next time: find out how fast can I run a half-marathon. Because this one was pure magic.

Picking up our race bibs. Disney does this right. Every marathon should have footmen.

OHMYGAWD it's Hogwarts!!!

About to ride the Hogwarts ride and freak out the random guy in our carriage by shrieking the whole way through.

Refreshments in the Boar's Head Inn.

Welcome aboard the Hogwarts Express. Ladies, set your drinks down behind you. If you forget them, don't worry, I'll take care of them.

About to ride the Hogwarts Express. Kind of excited. Okay, thrilled.

My friends on their quest to eat or drink in every country in Epcot: "Do you think they would serve sake inside the temple?" "Hm, probably not." It was only three countries later that we remembered sake is Japanese, not Chinese. At least we made insightful comments about how there are no African countries represented, only a little thatched hut with some drums (??? )and Morocco, which is Arabic in culture. That makes up for not realizing that all Asian countries are not the same.

Found the land of sake. Picture to celebrate.

By this point, we had been up for fifteen hours, ran/walked a combination of thirty miles, and were dead. But we had to ride the teacups. It was magical!