45 Days

45 days.

45 days is also known as:

• 3,888,000 seconds
• 64,800 minutes
• 1080 hours
• 1 month and 17 days

45 days is how long I have to wait until I get to grace the streets of this magical place:

The Butala girls, circa 1993.  I'm the one in pink with the bad bangs.

45 days, people.  It feels like an eternity.

What was that?  Yes, I'm an adult.

An adult who makes as many Disney trips as humanly possible, dreams about getting into the elusive AND exclusive Club 33, meticulously plans out dining destinations in order to ensure gastrointestinal space (too much information?), and has been listening to the Frozen soundtrack for the last 37 days straight.

But, seriously, now.

Mr. Pihl and I are very passionate about three things: football, dessert, and Disney.  It's why eHarmony matched us up.

Well, that and our love for Once Upon a Time.

We are already plotting where we are going to eat, which parks we'll hit and when (Disneyland and/or California Adventures to which the answer is: park-hopper pass), how to best use and abuse the Fastpass system, whether or not we'll hit Downtown Disney, and how we can elbow ourselves into the best spot for the fireworks.

I know.  We're pretty pathetic.

But we LIVE for Disney.

It's like oxygen to us.

Before you judge though, think back to the last time you were there.

If you've never been there then stop reading this RIGHT NOW and book a plane ticket to Los Angeles, and GO tomorrow.  Amen.

For the rest of us - You know that moment when you first walk through the mini tunnel and get a glimpse of Main Street, USA?

Ugh, I'm getting misty-eyed and short of breath just thinking about it.

It's so lovely.  That feeling.  That magical I-just-walked-onto-a-movie-set-and-world-peace-IS-possible feeling is like nothing else in the world.  You can feel an overwhelming sensation of abundant joy radiating off of everyone around you, the customer service is absolutely incredible, AND THEY ALWAYS HAVE FRESHLY MADE WAFFLE CONES!!!

That last point is Mr. Pihl's favorite part.

My favorite part?

There's no way to pick one.  I love the whole shebang, though I'm really looking forward to our reservations at the Blue Bayou.  If you've never eaten there, then you MUST make it a point to get in on your next trip!  This is not an option.  Really, now.  I'm looking out for your well-being here.

I should also mention that it's only 45 days until I get to see this nutty bunch:

Butala fam-bam, circa 2010

It takes a seriously talented family to pull off a family Christmas photo this bad.

Let's examine this, shall we?

Firstly, my cousin's head it trying to merge into view.

Secondly, check out the total weirdness that is my family.

My mom's photo-smile tends to be more of a baring of teeth than a smile, which I recall is what inspired all of this insanity in the first place.  My baby sister and I were probably trying to make the woman laugh so that we could capture a genuine smile (which is beautiful, by the way) and ended up causing a chain reaction of a moment of "whoops" that was subsequently captured on film.

(To clarify, my mom smiles.  She just freezes up like a growling terrier whenever a camera is posed before her.  It's kinda precious, really.  Well, as precious as a growling terrier can be.)

Anywhosits - Mr. Pihl and I will be traveling in 45 days to see my peeps.

And what a bunch of peeps they are.

I can't wait!!!