A Night at Wonderland (Pier)

Fact: The worst thing about moving is everything.

Scenes from the weekend. Fun, right?

Packing boxes is no fun, no matter who you’re doing it with, and after a weekend of loading cars, driving to and from North Carolina, sweating in the heat, and the early stages of a cold, I was feeling a little worse for wear.  And then, like a fairy godmother, my buddy Claire fluttered down from North Jersey to sprinkle my night with joy. And, having spent the past two days with her, I figured I should share a bit of our trip to Wonderland.

In case you’re not from around these parts, Gillian’s Wonderland Pier is the oldest amusement park in Ocean City. Considering there’s only one other (Playland), that’s not incredibly tough, but either way, it’s been a staple of my life as long as I can remember.  But then you get older, and your time on the boardwalk is spent scoping out dudes (or chicks or clothes or foods) and the rides can fall by the wayside.

Here’s a tip: Ditch the dudes, the funnel cakes, the neon colored tshirts – get thee to the rides, post-haste.

Keeping it classy

We couldn’t let ALL our adult vices go, though, so we started our evening with a nice sampling of some tasty craft beer, including this Hop Sun from Southern Tier. Though I’m not normally a fan of wheat beers, this brew was tart with an almost citrusy bite to it, and lacked some of the saccharine taste that I’m used to tasting in a lot of sweet wheat beers.  If you’re in the market for a refreshing summer beer, nab one.  Or a few, as we did.

After a few adult beverages, it was time to let the kids inside of us out to play.


Moneybags Claire picked up 25 tickets (a BARGAIN for $20 [sarcasm]), and we made a plan.  First up: The Musik Express.

Safety first, buckling up

We decided to stay in separate carts because, as you know if you’ve ever been on a Musik Express-type ride, if you’ve got more than one person in the cart, someone’s getting squished.


Though I did have a few buddies in my cart: my giant shins.

It was a WILD ride. Too fun, especially having the cart all to myself. We screamed like lunatics backwards and forwards, and came off a little loopy and ready for the next ride!


It’s not like the Ferris wheel is a petrifying thrill-ride, but man…. it does allow for quite the view of Ocean City, NJ.

Though it felt pretty romantic at the top, we somehow resisted making out (though I did see a few capsules a-rockin’… we did NOT go a-knockin’).

Afterwards, we made ourselves sick and dizzy on Wonderland’s version of the gravitron… We were the ONLY passengers on the ride.  Bonus: Yelling as loudly as we wanted, and dancing like fools throughout.

Bird’s eye view of the ABDUCTION! Scared yet?

We rounded the night out the only way I know how.

At The Henna Shop.

I can’t resist

I’ve mentioned it before, but I used to work every summer during college at the Ocean City Henna Shops, and I can’t help but go back and get the bottle in my hand now and then.

Letting the kid inside of me out to play was just what I needed to (momentarily) forget about the grown-up issues looming ahead and behind (moving! student loans! apartment hunting! HOORAY!)  Bonus? HENNA HAND!

What childhood past-times do you still enjoy?


7 thoughts on “A Night at Wonderland (Pier)

  1. While amusement parks/carnival rides sometimes SOUND appealing to me, I just can’t handle them any more. A few years ago, my girlfriends & I decided to go to a local carnival. One spinny ride in & I was sidelined to the beer tent for the rest of the visit. Other than that, I’m still pretty cool with any other childhood past time. Age is just a number, after all! 🙂

  2. I literally was just talking to my 11 year old sister about how we are going to get henna tattoos as the beach next week. They are my fave! Also, frozen custard. All healthy eating goes out the window on family vacations.

  3. I haven’t been on a roller coaster, or any real rides, in AGES. I’ll have to scope out that beer at my local bottle shoppe (I love that I can say that!). Also, I, too, hate moving.

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