My Inner Child really drove me insane today. We were in Target shopping for some real basic necessities, like toothpaste, shampoo, etc., when suddenly she drags me into the costume jewelry section and starts trying everything on. In an attempt to appease her I said, "I'll buy you something, but I'm only buying ONE beaded necklace." Next thing you know she's ranting and raving about how she NEEDS two. I was running late for my therapy appointment and since I didn't have time to argue, I grabbed both and ran to the check-out counter. Flash forward to three hours later and guess what?! She doesn't want the second one anymore!! She thinks it looks like like a noose of somekind. That's the last time I indulge her whims when I'm running late. I had to go back to Target and wait in the returns section. CHEEESH!

My latest self-help book has introduced me to the concept of my "Inner Adult." I always knew I had an "Inner Child" and that sometimes I ignored her. However, I now realize that it wasn't ME ignoring her, but my absent "Inner Adult." My "Inner Adult" is often romping around working to get approval from other people so as to satiate my "Ego, while my "Inner Child" remains feeling abandoned and alone. However, my "Higher Power" can keep us all from going astray, by telling my "Ego" to get a grip and reminding my "Inner Adult" to be loving and gentle with my "Inner Child." Just when I'm feeling really crowded, my "Inner Critic" always steps in and tells everyone that their doing it wrong. In which case everyone gangs up on "Inner Critic" who I also call "Martha" and for about five seconds were all bonded by a common resentment. Just for today, I can listen to all the voices in my head.

Several people in my life have recently brought to my attention the fact that I seem "uncomfortable" with commitment. While it is true that my proximity to many adult maturity milestones (marriage, kids, career,etc.), is slightly akin to my proximity to the moon...I still feel that my fear of commitment is somewhat reasonable. For instance, what happens if I commit to something and then I change my mind? I'm screwed! What happens if I commit to a relationship and then realize that I don't want to be in it anymore? Then it's a big ole mess! And then put kids and a mortgage in the mix, and you have an existential dillema. No, thank you.

My friend Angie suggested that I dialogue with my inner child about my fears of commitment to find out what she's feeling.

Me: Hey! So, how are you?

Inner Child: What?! You want to talk to me now? After all these years? Fuggetabutit.

Me: Hey, what's up with that language?! Let's show a little respect.

Inner Child: Lady, I don't even know you.

Me: Look, I know I have alienated you quite a bit lately, made you do chores, haven't taken you shopping...wait! I bought you a whole bunch of clothes and a new stereo!

Inner Child: You still haven't gotten cable. And what about my guitar lessons? And I want a Jelly Kelly bag and some new Danskos, and more french fries and Ben & Jerry's! You're way behind!

Me: Hey, kiddo! If you weren't sleeping in on Saturday mornings, maybe we'd be farther along! And enough with the junk food.

Inner Child: I don't need a lecture.

Me: Ok, I can see that you have some anger towards me. Maybe I haven't been there for you quite like you would like. But I want to make it up to you. I really do. I'm going to treat you like the angel you are. Just please don't throw any more fits when I meet a nice guy or sit down to write. 'kay?

Inner Child: I'll take a large Mocha with whip cream.

Me: Deal.

Just for today, I can dialogue with my inner child about my fears of commitment.

I went to the Happiest Place on Earth because my friend had free passes and my inner children was starting to crawl up the cubicle walls at work and eat paste.

It's only been since I started exploring Fantasyland as a personal sociological study that I realized what a dark, terrifying existential horror show some of the "little kid" rides are behind that magical castle (which happened to be under construction...so rude). Take for instance Mr. Toad's Wild Ride wherein Mr. Toad essentially goes on a drunk driving rampage before he ends up in court, and, ultimately, Hell (a traditional red Catholic one...) On the (new) Winnnie the Pooh ride, Pooh gets high on honey in one scene and starts having psychedelic hallucinations. For a study in simple alcoholism, the Pirates of the Carribean has no competition (still...that ride has soul).

Maybe Mr. Disney was far more advanced than I gave him credit for and while he disguised his theme park as the happiest place on earth, he was really sharing an art therapy project suggested by his lesser known shrink...
I would get into the Nazi sympathizer, but that upsets certain 35-year-old men who don't like to feel the bitter drum of my diatribe raining on the shining star of Anaheim.

All that said, I know Disneyland better than any childless 32-year-old woman should...

Just for today, I can go to Disneyland.

I watched Empire Strikes Back with the two boys I babysit (I know what you're thinking kids, perhaps, at 33 you, too, might find yourself in such an inviting situation on a Saturday night...better work on those SAT's!)...Anyway, I can't stand it when people refer to these movies by numbers. Every time I tried to mention a title one of the boys would say, "You mean 5?" What?! You mean the one I saw when I was ten? I guess I'm getting old.

So, while we watched fabulous struggle with darkness that is the crowning jewel of all the episodes, the boys said things like, "I saw that scene in my video game!" and "these special effects suck!" Meanwhile, I fawned over Princess Leia and Harrison Ford like it was 1980 again and it was SO MUCH FUN! No matter how old or cynical or jaded I get, I will always love Princess Leia. I joined the Carrie Fisher Fan Club when I was 7 and regardless of all the tall blond Arian models the media threw at me over the next ten years, she remained my unconscious physial ideal. Like me, she had dark hair and eyes and I believe I emulated the way Princess Leia used her intelligence rather than her sexuality to wield power (although they did make her look pretty bimboish in the third movie...I mean "Episode 6").

Call it what you will, while watching Princess Leia spar with Han on the Millenium Falcon I reclaimed a part of my sou (I'm not kidding).

Yoda was pretty cool, too.

Just for today, I love and accept my inner-ten-year-old.