Socal Mom

Earth Shaking Matters

We had a bit of excitement in SoCal yesterday, courtesy of Mother Nature.

I was in my car, about a mile from my home, when the 5.4 temblor hit yesterday. I thought there was something wrong with my tires because I felt a definite wobbling in the car as I drove. When I stopped at a red light and it continued to shake, I figured it was some kind of engine trouble. I was trying to decide if I could make it up the hill to my house or if I should risk taking it in to the shop when the smooth public radio FM deejay whispered, "Do you feel that?" And then I knew.

I've been in the car before when a quake has hit. It happened a lot in the mid-90's, as aftershocks of the 1994 Northridge incident. These would register in the 3- or 4- range on the Richter scale, and I never knew they'd occurred until someone told me. That size shock is pretty mild, even when you are right on top of the epicenter. This was the first time I'd experienced one that was large enough to feel while driving, and it was a pretty strange sensation. I can tell you that I don't want to be in a car during a 6. I don't want to be anywhere near a 7.

My niece, who attends UCLA and now lives in Westwood, had never experienced a quake of any magnitude (the Sacramento region, where she grew up, is way less seismically active than most of the state). She was a bit -- yeah, I'll say it -- shaken. As she lives in a second-story apartment, she probably experienced a lot more swaying than someone would on the ground. But she agreed with me that once it was over -- and she realized that this was not "The Big One," and that no one she knew was hurt -- a moderate earthquake can liven up your day. It's like the heightened sense you get on a roller coaster... it's a little bit scary, but you come out of it safe, and that makes it kind of fun.

I am not trying to make light of those who did suffer injuries or property damages in this incident. That doesn't make anyone happy, and I know that a 5.4 quake is a frightening thing for those who have not lived through one that is larger. But I feel a lot like the news reporter I listened to said yesterday, who reminisced of a 5.3 aftershock following Northridge. He said the 5 felt really mild after having experienced the initial quake: Northridge was a 6.7 on the Richter scale, which means it was about 100 times stronger than the temblor we felt yesterday.

Besides, this week has brought news of real tragedies. Vicki Forman, another SoCal blogger who was a speaker at BlogHer, lost her son last week, just days before his 8th birthday. If you click on the link, you'll discover that yesterday's quake hit during the memorial service. (Vicki's friends have created a fund in Evan's name, details here.)

And Lisa, who blogs as Midwestern Mommy, found out yesterday that she has cancer. I happen to know a number of bloggers who are dealing with the disease. That is news that would shake me to the core, for a lot longer than the 10 seconds or so that the earth moved yesterday.

As for the Mills family, life moves on. The economic climate and the housing crisis are a lot like the stresses and strains that build up on our fault lines and eventually rupture in the form of an earthquake. My husband has trouble sleeping at night, as he is required to run his office with fewer resources while chasing work that isn't out there. We are learning to live on less, even as costs rise and pressures mount to spend more on services we already use.

I was offered a virtual assistant job yesterday -- I am thisclose to taking it. I will be spending the day doing data entry for a friend's business and am also investigating other options that would drastically change how I spend my days.

And my little girl continues to grow into an adolescent, with all the joys and sorrows that entails -- for the entire family. This month, she's experienced several bouts with uncontrollable crying. I'm a cryer, so it doesn't bother me (other than the desire to help her through it). But the sound of her wailing and sobbing makes my husband crazy. He doesn't understand it; doesn't know why she can't "just stop it" and thinks that when I am comforting her I am actually "encouraging" her...

...Which usually ends in a kind of domestic quake of our own.

The California Games

I can't believe I began the summer lamenting that I wouldn't be taking any vacations this year.

Instead, I ended up planning several short road trips. The result: Plenty to write about -- but little time to do it!

I just got back from watching Megan compete in the California State Games, which is a kind of youth Olympics event, complete with young athletes marching in to witness the lighting of the torch. As the march-in was Friday night and her meet was Sunday afternoon -- and the event was in beautiful San Diego -- we made a weekend of it. My sister and her family planned a short stay in Mission Bay to coincide with it, so it was a full family affair...

...which means that breaking away to write was a near-impossibility. Hell, my husband and sister complained every time I glanced at the steady stream of email I was receiving on my Blackberry. You have no idea how much trouble they would have given me if I had gone hunting for a hotspot so I could write.

This is why I have not been online since Thursday afternoon (when the Internet in my home went down for several hours). As of this time last week, I was putting the finishing touches on part 1 of my post about our Las Vegas trip -- and promising to finish the half-done draft recounting our experiences in Palm Springs the previous week.

Those posts remain half-done drafts. And in three days, I am flying up to San Francisco for BlogHer.

Can you say "over extended"?

So... this blog will be taking a non-linear turn this week, as I jump around in time so I can catch up before BlogHer.

We'll start with the trip we just finished: San Diego.

I wish I had photos to show you of the opening ceremony for the California State Games. It really felt like the real deal. For one thing, it took place at Qualcomm Stadium. For another, there must have been thousands of youthful participants, as the march in to the stadium seemed to go on FOREVER. The really cool thing is that the entire proceeding was broadcast onto the stadium's jumbotron -- so I got to see the joyful expressions on the faces of my daughter and her teammates as they entered the field.

The reason I don't have photos is that I almost didn't make it to the Stadium on time, having opted to stay at a four-star Priceline-booked downtown hotel instead of the cheap Mission Valley inn on the trolley line, with the rest of the team. I had dropped Megan off with her coach so I knew she would arrive along with them -- but I wanted to have my own car so I could boogie when the whole thing was over.

The road leading to Qualcomm was bumper-to-bumper, and just as I got there, my cell phone froze on me. This put me into a panic: How was I going to find the other parents? How was I going to find my kid? I managed to get the phone working again by removing and replacing the battery -- but I was shaken. I was already at the ticket booth when I realized I'd left my camera in the car. I had no desire to run back to fetch it.

After what seemed like hours (I had NO IDEA there were so many kids who play softball - I don't think there was an empty field in all of San Diego last weekend!), the ceremony began with a drop-in by about a dozen Navy Seals... who literally parachuted onto the field, ending with one holding an American flag for the Star Spangled Banner. Yeah, it was kind of hokey -- but really cool at the same time. That was followed by some speeches about the value of youth athletic programs and some Gong-show ready entertainment.

The program ended with a pretty nice fireworks show.

Then came the ordeal of catching back up with our kids. As much time as it took for them to march IN to the stadium, finding them after the event took even longer. At least, it felt that way. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. by the time I had my daughter back -- neither one of us had eaten dinner. Fortunately, my sister and husband (who had driven down after work and was already relaxing with the family at their hotel in Mission Bay) were waiting for us. We phoned them a room service order and found a late dinner waiting for us when we caught up with them -- just in time to catch our second fireworks show of the night, emanating from nearby Sea World.

Saturday was our time to kick back, and we decided to do so at my sister's hotel. She and her family stayed at the Mission Bay Hilton, which is right on the bay, so it boasts a small beach, a dock where you can rent boats and jetskis, tennis courts, a spa -- and a fabulous pool (which was adjacent to a fabulous bar that serves truly fabulous pina coladas).

We figured we could get the best of both San Diego worlds by moving our party downtown for the evening. We dined on excellent tapas at Cafe Sevilla in the Gaslamp Quarter (which was within walking distance from our downtown hotel). The food was plentiful...and reasonably priced.

Sunday's gymnastics meet was a lot like any other... except that our team rocked! Megan and her friend Wesley both took first place All-Around prizes for their ages -- and the top three for most events featured at least one of our girls.

I would have pictures of this but for a nasty surprise when I turned my camera on: I must have dropped it somewhere, because I could not access any of the menus. Instead, all I could see was something that looked like a crack on the screen INSIDE the camera.

"Just go to the store where you bought it and get it fixed," my husband suggested.

The last time I tried that with a digital camera I was told it would cost nearly as much to fix as it would to buy a new one. It is also extremely unlikely that, should it be reparable, I could have it back before I go to BlogHer on Thursday. At any rate, future posts will be without photos for the foreseeable future.

It's a good thing I got some in on the half-finished posts that will be going up BEFORE I get to San Francisco.

Cabazon: Desert Shopping and Swimming

My plan for today's post was to write about the Palm Springs area and what a bargain it is for travelers in the summer months (when demand for desert uh, warmth is on the low side).

Megan and I were going to leave the house early, check in to our Rancho Mirage hotel and then check out the local sights, like the Aerial Tramway and...

...well, that was the only activity I was aware of here. I figured we woud spend the rest of the day shopping at the River complex, and hanging out at the pool.

That was before Megan turned on her newly charged cell phone and found a text message from a friend, who happened to be staying at the Morongo Casino and Resort, out in Cabazon... which we would be passing by on our way to Palm Springs. The Desert Hills Premium Outlet mall is located right next to the resort... I had always wanted to check it out (for some reason, my husband never seems to want to stop and shop when we're traveling) and Leesa and her family were planning on having lunch there. So why not?

While there, Leesa's family invited us to come and hang out with them at the resort's fabulous pool. So instead of an awesome aerial view, we ended up spending the afternoon at an Indian casino... and it was good.

Sunny San Diego (and Coronado, too)

When I was a kid growing up here in the San Fernando Valley, my family's favorite vacation destination was San Diego. It's relatively close (just a two hour drive if traffic is light), it's on the coast, and the weather is almost always perfect (even when it's raining in Los Angeles, as it was this weekend).

So when I received an invitation to attend a blogger event this weekend at Sea World (to try out the park's new Sesame Street themed Bay of Play area), I jumped on it. For the last couple of years, we've been heading down to San Diego purely for gymnastics meets. How nice would it be to go there for fun?

As it turns out, it was very nice indeed.

Public Service Announcement for SoCal Residents

Do you live in Southern California? Do you love reality TV? Wanna get paid to be an extra on something?

I subscribe to a list that sends out TV audience opportunities and they sent me this today (below the jump).

I do not know the show they are casting for, nor do I know anything about the pay. I'm just passing this along. If I did not have school pickup obligations (or if I wasn't too old for them!), I would do this myself just for the blog fodder. (If do you and write about it, please let me know!)

Invasion of the Riff-Raff: An Anniversary to Remember at the Montage Laguna Beach

It was weird to be spending our anniversary this year at a renowned five-star hotel; pampered in the proverbial lap of luxury while our conversations centered on layoffs, recession and hard times ahead.

It’s strange that riff-raff like us had even HEARD of the Montage resort in Laguna Beach, let alone be returning to the place – especially with our tenuous connection to the bizarre police shooting that occurred there last year.

The first time we visited, we were guests of some extravagant and generous friends who invited us there to help them celebrate a milestone birthday. We hadn't seriously considered coming back until that charity silent auction we attended in October.

One of the prizes was a one-night stay at Montage with bidding begun at a bargain rate of $200. So we placed a bid.

By the end of the evening, it was too late; especially once my husband’s boss entered the fray. Gareth was determined to win, and he did. But our final cost was $50 more than it would have been if we had just made the reservation directly with the hotel. (At least, the money goes to charity, and we can write that $50 off.)

Riff-Raff that I am, I was determined to use all of the resort’s facilities to the max this time – and milk as much as I could out of our one-night stay.

“Did you tell them it was our anniversary?” I asked my husband last week. I’d expected them to ask us when we’d made our reservation. Husband shot off a quick email asking if they had any suggestions for us. For a hotel of this caliber, that’s code for “We expect you to make a fuss.”

I was not disappointed.

We made it to Laguna around 11:00, hoping to obtain an early check-in. A room was available, so we had the desk clerk send our luggage over while we moseyed over to the property’s “casual” dining room, The Loft. After being seated, my husband handed me a letter from the general manager, welcoming us to the property and wishing us a happy anniversary there.

Boo-ya!

Fun in Long Beach

My university student niece and nephew were visiting us this weekend. Rather than just sit around and hang for two days, we decided to take advantage of a brief moment of sunshine Saturday to visit the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach.

Our family could be classified as "Aquarium People." My sister's in-laws (Carly and Alex's grandparents) have long been involved with San Pedro's Cabrillo Marine Museum. This is the oldest marine education facility in Southern California; in operation for over 70 years, and their innovative programs have served as a model for many of the public aquariums that have opened since, including the larger, more famous ones in Monterey and California's newest one in Long Beach. One of the best things about Cabrillo is that it is owned by the City of Los Angeles and is FREE to the public (they do request that visitors consider leaving a discretionary donation).

"Don't tell Grammy we're going to Long Beach," my niece admonished her brother.

The Aquarium of the Pacific IS bigger, more modern and has a location advantage: downtown Long Beach has become a really happening place, with restaurants, shopping and nice hotels.

That's a good thing, because the moment we got there, my husband announced he was hungry (which usually means we must drop everything and feed the beast -- he has low blood sugar or something, so these things must be taken care of quickly). It was warm and sunny, so we walked along the pier to the Shoreline Village restaurant development and ended up at the YardHouse: Great salads, sandwiches and a huge beer menu (which we did not partake of -- will have to save that for another visit).

Lunch done, it was time to head back to the Aquarium.

(Oops! The 15 minutes I've allocated for writing posts on my main blog is up... this post continues over on my Review Blog, Socal Stuff. View more photos of our day in Long Beach at Flickr.)

Rainy Days and Sundays

Southern California is known for its climate. We show it off every New Year at the Tournament of Roses parade, and love boasting about the fact that our cars don't rust and we don't spend time each winter shoveling snow.

So why do SoCal'ers spend so much time grumbling about the weather?

We complain when it's too hot, too cold, too windy and too wet. Our local news stations cover precipitation with the same intensity you'd expect for a terrorist attack. So when the current wave of Pacific storms blew into our state, the media seized on the fact that we would receive more rain this week than we did all of last year.

Of course, they neglect to mention that the 2006-2007 rain year was the driest on record here: Just 3.21 inches in downtown Los Angeles -- nearly a foot less than what's considered normal for the region.

Last year was a bad one for the snowpack in the Sierras, which is a major source of water for the entire state. This year is looking much better, which may mean that a delay in implementing emergency drought measures (or perhaps that is just hopeful thinking).

So I should be happy to see all this rain.

But I am a native of this area, and I'm as big a kvetcher as everyone else around here. It's weird, because cold, wet weather doesn't bother me as much when I am visiting my husband's family in the UK. I think it's because I expect it over there, and if I let it stop me from my planned activities I would end up spending all my time stuck in my mother-in-law's tiny family room.

But in Los Angeles, we seem to consider sunny and mild weather our birthright. Rain just doesn't seem natural here, and can be downright dangerous, as evidenced by the many accidents that occur on our crowded roads when they become slippery. Driving in the rain is almost like following a death wish, and I try to avoid it at all costs.

Fortunately, most years, cold rainy days are quickly interspersed with glorious warmth and sunshine, so I don't have to wait it out for too long. And the forecast this week indicates that the sun will return to SoCal by Wednesday.

In the meantime, I am using today's rain as an excuse to stay in pajamas and slippers. This afternoon, I'm going to slow cook a hearty stew while watching a slew of old movies I DVR'd this week as respite from the reruns and drivel the networks have been putting on in response to the Writers' strike.

The last couple of weeks, Turner Classic Movies has run some gems like "Bachelor Mother," "Pat and Mike," and "Christmas in Connecticut." I actually managed to get Megan to watch the first one with me, and she enjoyed it. Yes, they are old-fashioned, slower paced and a bit stagey, and young people hate black and white. But these films were made in the days of the Hays Code, so you know you're not exposing your kids to bad language or behavior they're not ready to see on television.

I also believe that the best of these classic old films are literature; as much of our cultural heritage as Hawthorne, Poe and Twain. And don't forget 20th Century American authors like Fitzgerald and Faulkner, who came to Hollywood and contributed to the scripts of several movies of the era (with spotty results, especially in Fitzgerald's case).

Current entertainment often cannibalizes or spoofs these old movies. Thanks to "The Simpsons," my daughter is already familiar with catch phrases from movies like "Casablanca," "Citizen Kane," and "Sunset Boulevard." I want her to become familiar with the source material.

So right now, we have a choice of "Topper," the screwball comedy starring Cary Grant and Constance Bennett as fun-loving socialites who die in a car crash -- and come back to haunt Cosmo Topper, their unhappy banker who needs to loosen up. It's fun to watch a pre-Glenda Billie Burke as Mrs. Topper, who keeps Cosmo on a short leash.

I also recorded "Gone With the Wind," which might be a little beyond my 11-year-old. Or maybe not. She learned a bit about the Civil War last year in 5th grade history. The movie is a product of its time and is at times embarrassing in the way its African-American characters are portrayed. But this is a movie that still packs a punch, and it can serve as a jumping off point to talk about issues that our country has yet to resolve. And again, a part of our country's cultural heritage.

The last movie I have waiting in the wings is definitely too sophisticated to watch with my kid. "Three Days of the Condor" was a tense post-Watergate thriller starring Robert Redford as an office-bound CIA employee who is pulled into an assassination plot and needs to go into hiding. Faye Dunaway co-stars as a woman he kidnaps in desperation while trying to hide from the agents who will surely kill him when he's found. I haven't seen this one since it was playing live in theaters in pre-VCR 1976 and I'm hoping it holds up well in these equally paranoid times.

Looking at this list, I think I may actually start enjoying rainy weekends.

Silly Hat Syndrome, It's a Small World - And Other Disney Observations

We had a good day with the Mouse. We arrived about 30 minutes before the box office opened, were directed to an easy parking space on the lot (NOT in the structure!), and the lines to buy tickets and enter the park were the ONLY ones we had to deal with for the first 90 minutes there.

In that first 90 minutes, with little to no lines, we managed to ride five of the park's most popular attractions: the Haunted House, Pirates of the Caribbean, Splash Mountain, Thunder Mountain and Buzz Lightyear. Even after the park filled up, starting around 10, it was never as crowded as I expected on a holiday weekend. This might have something to do with the weather, which was overcast and coolish -- which I find a plus for a Disney day. Or it may be due to the fact that there are currently billboards all over SoCal announcing Disneyland Christmas festivities -- beginning next weekend. I even asked my daughter if she wouldn't rather wait, because the park is so pretty during the holidays. Her answer -- obviously -- was "no."

And I'm so glad I listened to her. Park employees have gotten a head start on the holiday decorations. The halls and faux streets are already decked with boughs of holly and all kinds of sparkly ornamentation. The Haunted House still sports the Nightmare Before Christmas makeover I raved about when I visited in October (how convenient that it works for two holidays), so I was happy to be able to share that with my husband and daughter. And It's a Small World has already converted to its holiday version, where that incessant bloody song gets broken up with both Deck the Halls and Jingle Bells, which makes it infinitely more bearable.

A few words about It's a Small World: Like most normal people, I wanted NOTHING to do with this ride from the moment I hit adolescence on through my 30's, but always had to go on it because my mother -- or my grandmother -- whichever older gen family member I was with -- would insist.

The preciousness of it all -- the doll-like robotic "children" dancing in national costumes to that insipid song that gets in your head and stays there like some subliminal memory bomb; the idea that we can attain peace on earth simply by bringing the children of the world together for a song and dance... well, I hated this ride, both emotionally and intellectually. LOATHED it. And vowed that I would never drag my children on it.

And then I had a child. And suddenly, the tame, gentle rides of FantasyLand were no longer ironic re-enactments of my own childhood, but a chance to experience it anew through her eyes. I remember one January, when Megan was two years old. I had just finished a grueling week managing a convention away from home. The three months leading up to that convention had been all long hours and stress; I have no memory of the holidays that year because I worked through them. Now it was over and I just wanted to celebrate with my baby girl. (My husband -- who had to take up the slack when I was out of town on business -- needed to catch up on his own work.)

So what did I do? I grabbed the baby and the stroller and went to Disneyland, for the day.

As she was not yet three years old, admission for her was free, so it wasn't as expensive a whim as it sounds. But I discovered, to my dismay, that there weren't a lot of rides I was able to take her on (which explains why a park that charges adult prices beginning at age 10 lets infants in for free. They don't miss a trick over there). About the only one that worked for us that day was -- you guessed it -- It's a Small World. And so, for the first time since I started going to the park on my own, I got on that ride.

The younger me used to joke that people lose any coolness they once had the moment the children arrive. In my case, that's definitely true, because once I rode Small World with a baby on my lap (who was mesmerized by all the bright lights and dancing "chidren"), I discovered that I kind of liked it. Especially as that January, it still had all its Christmas decorations. As cliche as it sounds, it was MAGICAL. I had walked into the park that day, tired and dragging after a hard week and walked out of that ride feeling happy and full of life.

In this respect anyway, I had officially become my mother (which frightens the hell out of me, but there you have it).

So when I saw the Santa hat on the clock face outside the ride, I REALLY wanted to experience that again. But Megan is now 11 and so is already too cool for THAT. And I've already mentioned here how my husband feels about EVERYTHING Disney. I really had to threaten cajole them into going with me.

I think the only thing my husband ended up appreciating about Small World on this visit is that it's a LONG ride, approximately 15 minutes (after all, it takes a while to cruise through all seven continents in the world). This is of extreme importance after six or seven hours of walking and standing in line on concrete. You start looking for ways to rest your feet. Now that I am middle aged, I understand the popularity of Disney diversions like the parades and live shows, which take you away from your goal of getting on as many rides as possible in your allotted time at the park. I never watch them, but do make note of their times, because I figure that's when the lines for the nearest hot attraction will be the shortest.

But I did accidentally get to see some of the park's current Fantasy parade, which passed by the Bulimia Boats (otherwise known as the Mad Hatter's Tea Party attraction) while we were there. What I saw of it was impressive, with elaborate floats depicting scenes from The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Pinocchio, and beautifully costumed dancers putting on a real show. I understand why some people would want to see the parades without the added benefit of resting their feet.  I'm just not there yet.

But I wasn't above sending my husband and daughter off to Tom Sawyer's Island without me (hey -- traipsing around in the wilderness -- even a pretend wilderness -- just isn't my thing). So I parked myself on the edge of a planter facing the "Rivers of the World," for a blissful 30 minutes and did some people watching.

And that's where I had this Disney epiphany: The thing that makes the Disney parks so special is the Silly Hats. I think it's the only place in the world where people of all ages, ethnicity, political persuasion, etc. can wear a Silly Hat without feeling self-conscious.

It has always been so. Even when I was a kid, a visit to Disneyland was not complete until my parents bought me a hat (preferably, with my name embroidered with golden thread on the back). You didn't have as many choices back then: your basic black mouse ears (and a girl's edition with a pink foam bow on top), a Robin Hood model with a feather, a Three Musketeers-type hat that also sported a feather. But it was the beginning of a tradition. Today, there must be about 100 different kinds of silly hats sold at the park, and wearing them is part of the fun.

For thirty minutes, I watched leather-clad bikers in Goofy caps, dads sporting Pirate hats, a bevy of young women in sequined mouse-ears, a couple of tattoed punks (complete with safety pin piercings -- is that actually coming back?) with Mickey-eared Santa hats, etc. At the point I realized I should take out my camera and start documenting this phenomenon, it stopped. (I wouldn't have had the courage to ask them for permission to take their pictures and post them on Flickr anyway; especially the guys with the safety pins. They looked a little scary.)

So I did the next best thing: I asked Megan to try on some silly hats at the Mad Hatter shop in Fantasyland so I could photograph her. OK, I told her I would buy her one. But who am I to buck tradition?

We've Gone to Disneyland!

Remember my Mommy Bloggers Holiday with Lizzie Thompson last month? The one where I met her for lunch in Anaheim and she whipped out two free park hopper tickets to Disney?

The one that my daughter has not forgiven me for taking without her -- still?

It's a three-day weekend, her competitive season is over... and I promised her I'd make it up to her.

So that's where you'll find us today. Even my husband, who HATES amusement parks. Sometimes I wonder how the two of us fell in love and got married. Proof that opposites attract, I suppose.

"It's the UNhappiest place on earth," he groused when I told him my plan. "We go to Disneyland too often."

Uh, no. We haven't been there since summer 2006. When I was a kid, we used to go two or three times a year.

I gave him the option of staying home. He'd be missed, but I think Megan and I could manage to have a good time on our own (like I did without ANY of them last month). But he pointed out that Sundays are the only time we have to be together as a family. (He doesn't have Veteran's Day off tomorrow.) So he's in.

When I was a kid, you could do all of Disneyland in one long day. That isn't possible any longer. It's not that there are SO many more rides -- but the lines are definitely longer. And today should be a pretty crowded one. Megan told me that she's aware of three other kids at her school (not related to each other) who were all planning Disney trips this weekend. The one bit of hope is the weather forecast: there has been mention of rainstorms on Sunday and if that occurs, it may deter some of the locals from showing up. (I am writing this post on Saturday -- I REFUSE to fail at NaBloPoMo!)

Anyway -- I did toy with the idea of buying a multi-day Disney pass and staying at a hotel near the park(something I have never done before). Costco sells three day dual-park passes to SoCal residents for $139. This is something of a bargain. A single day park-hopper pass at the Disney Store goes for $89.

But after my husband went a little bit nuts at the Silent Auction last week, we're now in belt tightening mode: one day, one park, that's all he wrote. Unfortunately, you can't buy that at the Disney Store any longer. So if all goes as planned, we will have left the house at 6:00 a.m. this morning so we can be at the Park the moment the ticket stands open (8:00 a.m. - we'll probably grab some breakfast at Downtown Disney or one of the hotels).

"And we're not staying until midnight," my husband said.

He does have to go to work in the morning.

But I still had to resist an urge to say "Bah, humbug."