Part of your wooooorld

You know you're getting older when you think King Triton is hotter than Prince Eric.


I mean, I don't think that. I'm still all about the dark-haired, animated hotness of the prince. But Ang, on the other hand, thinks that Kind Triton is a hot piece of merman ass (mer-ass?).

I discovered this when Ang, Zannie and I went to The Little Mermaid Sing-Along the other night.


And, no, that's not creepy of us, so shut it.

The show started at 7:45pm, so we decided to have a few drinks after work. Someone was worried the show would sell out, so we showed up around 5:20 to pick up tickets. Since there was a 5:30 show, we were surrounded by a sea of tiny little girls, several of them dressed in princess costumes as they waited in line.


One of the mothers looked at us all weird and glanced down to see if we had any kids with us. Nope. Just us, lady. Do we really look that scary?


Okay, maybe.

Anyway, since the line was long and the judgmental looks were longer, we decided to skip the early ticket-buying and head straight to the bar. After two hours of Blue Moon, quesadillas and conversations about Plan B, boarding school, work and shitty landlords, we made our way to the theater.

This time, we were surrounded by a sea of equally tipsy 20-somethings all excited to see The Best Disney Movie Ever. Quite a scene.

Contributing to the scene was the fact that we all got goodie bags when we entered the theater. In it, there was a plastic fork (dinglehopper), champagne poppers, a glowstick that I later spilled all over myself, press-on tattoos and jellybeans in a fish-shaped packet.












We sat in our seats going through our goodie bags when Ariel herself appeared. When I say "Ariel," I mean a 30-something woman in a flowy "mermaid" outfit with a crown and a face that said "this is not where I imagined my life would be by this age." She explained when/how we should use all of our goodie bag items throughout the movie and encouraged us to sing along as much as possible. Hey, you got it.



Throughout the movie, we laughed, sang and yelled (Ang kept screaming, "I HATE YOU" whenever Ursula came on sceen) at appropriate and inappropriate times. It was pure magic, I tell you.

Once the movie ended, Zannie and Ang decided to get more drinks and harass the guides at Cha-Cha while I decided to catch a cab. I'm not a start-stop-start-again kind of drinker. If I take a break, I'm done for. So I hopped in a cab and spent the rest of the ride home trying to remove the red glowstick goo from my white shirt. (I did.)

Got home, watched Obama's speech, passed the fuck out.

Not bad for a Thursday.