Wishing on a star–or a green light.

I snap the Ziplock bag full of jewelry and find an unoccupied spot in my suitcase between my bras and blouses. Could this suitcase BE any more stuffed? (you read that in Chandler Bing’s voice, didn’t you?)

I’ve got everything I could possibly need and backups of them all just in case. You never know, right? I’ve been checking off mental lists–planning for this once in a lifetime vacation for the past six months. We’re taking the kiddos to the place where dreams come true!

Not Vegas, people.


I’ve researched online, ordered and studied books, perused restaurant menus, read attraction reviews, planned our daily itineraries, secured dining reservations, watched planning videos, read blogs devoted to Disneyworld, made autograph books and coloring books for the kids, and overall tried to think of everything.

I want this to be perfect. For months I’ve dreamed of my kids’ faces smiling–glowing in the light of the fireworks as we stand near Cinderella’s castle watching the magic spectacle. I’ve played and replayed in my mind a fantasy reel of my delighted daughter running into the arms of Princess Aurora. I’ve secretly smiled thinking about my little boy getting dressed as a pirate to play with the characters. In my head cinema, the vacation looks like an Instagram filtered perfect week.

We leave tomorrow, and as I’m packing my last minute essentials, I’m beginning to get a nauseating feeling in my stomach.
I’m nervous. I’m really nervous and I can’t help thinking about Jay Gatsby.

Stay with me here.

Everyone has been rereading Gatsby since the new movie this summer–which I’ve yet to see– and I’m no exception.

Reading Gatsby as an adult is an entirely different experience than reading it as a high school Literature student, but that’s another story.

In school, we learned how Gatsby was really about the American Dream–the constant and crippling longing for what ultimately is just out of our reach. Desiring what is here and yet not really here at all.

Gatsby spent years in a dreamy state over Daisy. He stood at the end of his pier looking toward that green light with his guts knotted in an anxious pull toward his love.

When they began meeting at his infamous parties; their eyes having silent conversations across the tops of their champagne flutes, I’m sure he felt he was finally going to attain what he had long sought after and painfully dreamed about.

But when they did embrace, it was hollow. How could this complicated love triangle ever measure up to years of fantasies about their love?

I’m glad Gatsby ends up dead.

Oh yeah, spoiler alert.

I recently took a personality profile where, among other qualities, it listed me as a “Dreamer.” I’m prone to get lost in lofty fantasies about life. I serve up airbrushed versions of conversations and situations before actually experiencing them.
I’m sparkling and witty in my head. My friends say the perfect thing that makes me feel valued and loved. Everyone at my party has the best night of their lives. My children look up to me with eyes full of love and say, “Thank you for this vacation. I love you, Mama.”

I’m terrified that our vacation, much like Gatsby’s complicated romance, will turn sour. We’ll end up a modern day Griswold tale or family version of The Hangover. The kids will fight, whine, or get sick. The hot as hell hubby and I will be ragged at the end of each itineraried touring day, and regret the trip altogether. We’ll have horrible weather, a flat tire, and our money stolen.

Ultimately, I’m scared of reality coming no where near the level of awesome that is my dreamworld.

I’m relying heavily on Disney magic to help with this condition of mine; this overly analytical fantasy land I can’t seem to shake.
After all, there’s a very famous Disney song that says, “When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.”

I’m gonna hold you to that Disney.


About sharonthemezzo

Sharon Edwards, a born performer, hoarder of books, pursuer of the highest callings of humanity, and librarian in training resides in rural Tennessee with her home-brewing husband and two beautiful kids. She can be seen, mostly heard, in various community theater productions.

7 responses to “Wishing on a star–or a green light.

  1. You’ll have a GREAT time! My husband didn’t even want to go (“too commercial,” he said) and I half expected him to be dead in the end, but he loved it. LOVED it– he can’t shut up about it. He talks about going back EVERY DAY.
    (BTW, the kids loved it, too.)

  2. Hello!
    I saw one of your comments on The Dimwit Diary, and it made me laugh so I came by to check out your blog. Good stuff!

  3. And it sounds like you found some magic! I came because of your Jedi master blog – we were at Disney for our first time the same week as you. Because of the suggestions in your post, I’ve just emailed Disney to tell them about the fantastic cast members we encountered while there – several of them, in fact. We had a special time with Mary Poppins at a character breakfast – just blogged about it today. Anyway – I am also a dreamer and had great dreams of what our magical trip would be like. Within 24 hours, I was seriously crushed and felt that I’d made a terrible choice to bring my family to Disney. But then those cast members with their magic started to kick in and by the end of the first day, we started to have fun and the happy moments far exceeded the stressed moments. In the end, we knew we’d be back and are know planning a trip in 2015 and again in 2018 (when Star Wars Land should open at Hollywood Studios!!!).

    And – nice to meet you!

  4. I’ve always called myself a perfectionist, but dreamer is a much better take on it. It’s hard having high expectations and the imagination to play it all out in your mind, and then have it fall flat despite your best efforts. That same trait encourages you to work toward goals, which is such a positive trait. Whatever you call it, it’s a wonderful thing to be.

    Also, I read your freshly pressed post – congrats. I’m so glad you spoke up for your son, despite your tears, and pulled off a miracle with the help of a jedi master. Well done!

  5. Oh yeah, spoiler alert. ~ hilarious

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: