Back around the turn of the century—the most recent one where the internet had been invented and conversion vans had VHS decks in the back—I took a series of three annual road trips with a group of friends. L.A. (Drea), Connecticut (Pooh), New York (Skrug), Tennessee (me), New Zealand (The Kiwi), Alabama (WooHoo)…we were from everywhere, and we ranged in age from 20 to…they’ll murder me if I tell you.

Then, they’ll also likely murder me for that picture and dragging out the old nicknames, but c’est la vie.

Any time you get that much estrogen in various degrees of concentration one place, there’s going to be drama. And there was plenty. We all drifted apart not too terribly long after our final road trip in 2000, but through the years, and largely thanks to Facebook, we’ve reconnected.

Our second L.A. couch-crash was at Drea’s house. She’s a native, but two of the other girls, Skrug and Pooh, are L.A. transplants, so of course, a reunion, nearly 15 years passed (and minus WooHoo and The Kiwi), was necessary.

Drea organized what turned into a massive Fourth of July party at her place. Her sister, niece, aunts, cousins, friends, and fireworks. It was a grand old time. I admit, I missed chunks of it. After our marathon Disney day on the 3rd, I fell asleep once on the living room floor (classy) and once curled up in the tailgate of my car while firecrackers and mortars went off all around us.

It was a spectacular time, though. Earl made friends and finally got to indulge in some serious Minecraft time.

She hung out with Pooh’s kidlets for bubble wars and sparklers, and later helped the bigger kids light our own supply of fireworks out in the street. Drea’s house is up on a rise, and at one point, I counted no fewer than 21 separate shows going on around us in every direction. It was amazing and awesome and somewhere I have possibly-watchable GoPro video, but the iPhone was hopeless at capturing the sheer scope of celebration.

It was great at capturing the sheer scope of Drea’s fatcat kitty Timmy, though.

Actually, no. even that doesn’t do Tim justice. That, my friends, is a huge cat. And he’s fat. But he’s a sweetums.

I enjoyed the friends, Earl enjoyed the cats.

Oh, and let’s not forget that my friends are awesome enough that, even though she’d never met my kid until we showed up at her front door, Drea got Earl an early birthday cake complete with Olaf. Someone was just a little surprised.

The fireworks continued well after Drea’s party had broken up. Just past midnight, Earl rolled over to me in bed and moaned, “Don’t they know they can stop now? It’s July 5th. It’s done!”

The next morning, we lazed around for a bit, then met up with Pooh and Skrug for brunch at The Waffle.

OMG.

Red Velvet Waffles, people. I’d have taken a picture, but I swallowed them whole before they hit the table because they were divine. Also, sticky whiskey bacon. Same story, except we fought over that which left no hands for cameras.

From there, it was a short walk to a music mecca, passing these guys along the way. BA-NA-NAAAAAA!!!

Music Mecca in this case was Amoeba Records. I texted Boo to let her know where we were, and her response was, “A religious experience.” Pretty dern close.

Two floors of CDs and Vinyl and DVDs and posters and WOW.

After we got our vintage on, it was time for the cheese in the form of a cheesy Hollywood celebrity home tour. Because Earl had never been to Hollywood, and everyone who comes to Hollywood has to do it at least once. It’s a rite of passage, truly. Never mind that she has no clue who most of the people who owned the houses you can actually see are/were. Current celebs are all hidden behind shrubs and gates and are total party poopers.

Lucy huh? Who-ly Temple ? Carol Bur-what’s her name?

I kid. I’m not that rotten of a parent. She’s seen I Love Lucy. She’s watched Shirley Temple movies. She’s heard my horrid impression of Carol Burnett’s Tarzan yell.

She obviously knows Michael Jackson, though, and was impressed with his old elementary school.

Her fascination with certain venues continued: The house where MJ died, The Viper Room where River Phoenix died on the front sidewalk, the Beverly Hilton where Whitney drowned. Any mention of death, that kid caught it.

My favorite was the witch house, though. Privately owned, it’s appropriately a Halloween destination.

The tour went way late, dinner was even later at Johnny Rockets, we snagged the obligatory group long-arm four-fie above, and all dragged off back to our respective homes. Because in L.A., nothing is less than half an hour away.

My night stretched on for a while, as I took advantage of Drea’s laundry room to refresh our clothes. This time, it was Drea’s turn to pass out on the living room floor.

In the old days, there’d have probably been alcohol involved. This weekend, though, it was the mere realization that excitement is far more exhausting 15 years down the road.

Not sure how that explains the 9 year old being the first to collapse into bed, but after three days of non-stop gogogo fun, I can’t say as I blame her. I was just glad I hadn’t fallen asleep face first into my red velvet waffles earlier in the day.

Thanks to all my L.A. friends for a spectacular three days. I couldn’t have picked better friends if I’d have tried. You welcomed Harvey and Earl into your homes, your stomping grounds, and your families, and you embraced my child in a way that far exceeded my wildest expectations.

There aren’t words to express how much we appreciated it!

It’s hard to read. It says “Earl.” There’s a matching mouse ear hat with “Harvey” on it, too. I wish I’d gone with the red thread instead of white. It probably would have popped more.

Three guesses where the road took us next, and the first two don’t count.

Earl went to L.A. with Disneyland in mind. Me? I went for the friends. And, well, I’m driving and paying and all that jazz, so I try to make things work for both of us.

Our first two nights La-La Land were spent crashed out on the couches of one of those rare and unexpected friends, whom I’ll call Boo, and her two kittehs. Boo and I met via phone and email 2008 when a series of “unfortunate events” put us in close and extended contact over the course of an auction. I decided she was just too awesome a person to never talk to again, she decided she wasn’t ready for me to stop annoying her, so we became friends.

Boo is a fangirl like me, and she’s one of those people who is completely unafraid to be herself. For that alone, I knew Earl and I needed quality time with her on this trip. Knowing Boo’s love for Disney, I didn’t hesitate a second to invite her to go to Disneyland with us.

Actually, I don’t think I gave her a choice. I’m pretty sure there were caps involved. As in, “You WILL go to Disney with us, RIGHT?”

Earl latched on immediately. Yep, the fangirl has a fangirl.

They sat down Thursday night to plot out what rides must be ridden on Friday. The Friday before July 4. I was braced for insanity and heat and entirely too many people.

In truth, it wasn’t that bad, there was a constant breeze (unlike in Orlando where the wind never blows), and the longest wait we had for a ride was half an hour. Alrighty then. Not going to complain about that.

I was incredibly proud of Earl. My easily-scared child not only loved the Haunted Mansion, but asked to ride it again. She adored Pirates of the Caribbean (yep, rode that twice, too, and Boo got drenched the second time around). Earl openly asked cast members and strangers alike if they were interested in trading pins.

Heck, by lunchtime, I was just grateful she was still allowing me to hang around, although anytime I was hung up doing something (like, I dunno, paying for stuff), she’d tell me, “Boo and I are gonna go do so and so!”

By the end of the day, I was sick of being the whiny “but I wanna do it tooooooo” child, but dadgummit, I’m not gonna miss out on Autopia, no matter how big of a buddy you’ve made. I’m a Disney fangirl, too!

I was glad they hit it off. It’s very rewarding when your kid likes your friends. Like it validates the friendship or something. It felt like it should be celebrated, so when tummies started rumbling, I sneakily made a reservation for Blue Bayou where Boo, a huge Pirates of the Caribbean lover, has always wanted to dine.

The atmosphere was fantastic. It’s nestled into one of the early section of Pirates of the Caribbean (and can be seen from the ride), and I will forever be baffled why you never hear anyone shouting, “Throw me a roll!” from the ride as they pass by. Because, let me tell you, the bread, particularly the focaccia bread? Was to die for.

The rest of the food was pretty phenomenal, too. A bit pricy, but oh so worth it!

After dinner, most of the crowd was gathering for parades and fireworks. Our merry little trio took off to hit more rides, merely catching glimpses of the parkwide celebrations.

We rode Nemo and Indiana Jones. Earl traded more pins. We had Dole Whips while we visited the Tiki Room.

In the blink of an eye, it was midnight. Wait, what? On our way out of the park as it closed down, we popped into The World of Disney in Downtown Disney to snag a t-shirt, then went in search of the car.

Fun fact: When you leave Disney at 1:30 a.m., finding your car in the garage isn’t that big of a challenge.

See that tiny little silver dot near the center of the picture? That would be our car.

We closed the park down. I wrestled with guilt all the way back to Boo’s place. After all, she had to work an extended shift on Saturday, and we’d kept her out half the night after dragging her around from ride to ride for 14 hours. But I’m pretty sure she had fun. I know Earl and I certainly did.

It is, after all, always fun to close down The Mouse House. Especially when you do it with friends!

There have been days on this road trip where I have wondered how on earth we’re going to put El Jefe and his stuff in the car when he joins us for a few days. But lemme tell you right now, I am so glad I’m not these folks we passed in Vegas. I hope they weren’t driving all the way back to California like that. Yikes.

As much fun as Vegas was, we did have to leave. But first, we had to make a Very Important and Vital Stop.

See? Vital.

The best thing about the Pinball Hall of Fame is that all the pinball machines are playable. And they have machines dating back to the 50’s, so it is phenomenal.

I don’t know how pinball ever caught on. Those early machines were HARD to play.

95% of the games were up and running, and man, Earl and I had fun jumping from machine to machine.

So much fun.

  Even with all the selection, I had only one machine I really wanted to play.

It was dark. I almost cried then and there.

I went in absolutely certain that Addams Family was my favorite pinball of all times. That illusion was quickly shattered. Wizard of Oz for the total win.

Of course, amongst the pinball machines were other arcade games, like Tetris, Ms. Pac Man, Punch Out, Duck Hunt/Hogan’s Alley (wheeeeee!). There were also a couple of really old scary stuff. Dancing clowns. Nooooooo thank you.

We had one last quarter to blow before heading out the door. Earl wrestled with it.

It was time to hustle out of town, since we’d spent way too long dropping quarters into machines.

Last thoughts on Vegas:

This billboard cracked me up. I’m not sure I want to know how she put herself through law school.

I was baffled when I saw this sign for the City of Nevada Las Vegas. Then the bus moved. Oh, hi, University of Nevada Las Vegas. That makes so much more sense. But it’s not nearly as funny.

We did a drive-by of Gold and Silver Pawn from Pawn Stars. The line was crazy. And it was juuuuuuust a little warm outside.

You know, Vegas, it’s been fun, but 118 is a little ridiculous, even on July 2. We’ll catch the Pawn guys on our next trip. Buh-bye.

As we headed for the coast, my newly Bonnie-and-Clyde-Obsessed (don’t ask, I still have no clue) child really wanted to stop in Primm to see the bullet riddled death car. I really didn’t think we had time, but fate stepped in. A mile from the exit, a road sign alerted us to a truck fire just past Primm. The interstate was closed.

Hmm…sit in parking lot traffic on the interstate or go see something my kid was clamoring to see anyway?

The stop was exactly long enough for a lane to open up on the interstate. From there it was smooth sailing to our next destination, LaLa Land, where the temps are milder, the friends abundant, and our stuff still all fits comfortably in the car.