Fire and Ice

The last time I went to Walt Disney World was in January, 2008. Before that, it was November 2007 and before that, November 2006. I can go back in a similar vein for over two decades, when I’ve been to WDW on average every other year, and if I look at even further back in time, I probably hit those parks around once a year. I’m not even counting the time when I spent a whole year there! I’m telling you this not because I’m showing off, but because every one of those visits is burned into my memory and I can recall almost to the day what we saw, where we went and what we did. However, when it comes to Disneyland – I can barely remember anything. I know I’ve been before but other than vague memories about being there as a small child (one or two years old) maybe once more when I was a teen (or twice?) and a visit to Disney’s California Adventure around 12 years ago, I can barely recall details. Even for my latest visit I can’t even remember what hotel we were in, how long we stayed in...

First of all – sorry for the “blog-neglect”. I am still alive and well, actually but it’s just that things have been a bit hectic lately! Lately I’ve also been thinking about history, more specifically my own history. I have never been a heritage scrapbooker and don’t actually own any old photos – I’ve said before that my mom has her own enormous albums where she has all her memories and my grandmother has few old photos but they are up on her walls. So as far as I’m concerned my family history is well looked after and I don’t feel the need to mess with that. The history I mean is my own past, the stories from when I was growing up and before I left Mexico. That part of my life sometimes feels like a distant dream to me, of living in a place where it was always hot or hotter, where I had lots of friends I could speak to any time, a time when I actually spoke more Spanish than English, a time when I seemed to have boyfriend after boyfriend. I am a prolific diary writer though an...