Reading this makes me wanna hop on a plane and go experience the magic again. I could kick myself in the butt for not enjoying it as much as I should have.

I was in that "I'm too cool for this stage" of childhood. You know, the one where everybody and their stuffed animals want to shoot the snot-nosed brat who lives in denial about magic n' shit. Because kids are supposed to be filled with light and joy and glitter.

Final words: always love Space Mountain.