9:25 a.m. - April 22, 2002
Up up up
It was a long weekend that passed quickly and here I am, sunburned, tired, and with a hickey on my neck. A hickey! When I saw it this morning after my shower the first thought was It's a bruise and secondly is I'm going to kick his ass because hickeys are off limits but inside despite rolling my eyes at high school hickeyism I'm smiling because hickeys are stupid, yes, but fun to make and fun to experience and fun to live.
We didn't go camping after all. We drove down Highway 1 to the site hoping the weather would be less beastly further south, but no go. So we turned around, got a hotel in Santa Cruz, and bummed around there for a day on the beach and yesterday we went to the amusement park and became stuck on a roller coaster.
That was not fun.
On one ride--the one where you are held immobile so that your body is parallel to the ground below--there was a belt failure that caused a shut down; Spec and I laughed that it wasn't us as we headed to another ride. We were in the car going up up up up up where the great views of the valley are when we stopped dead cold and one could vaguely hear a loudspeaker below and make out people leaving the attraction. It is not a secure feeling to be held up on top of a roller coaster at an 80-degree angle for any period of time, much less when you're there for a half hour and you hear ambulances and sirens coming your way. I became claustrophobic and queasy but laughed at the same time because I was in the direct sun and the sunblock was in the bag on the ground, and eventually two mechanics came climbing up to see how we were doing and reassured us There Is No Problem but when asked What's Wrong they could only say It Is Policy To State There Is No Problem; You Will Shortly Be On Your Way. Shortly my ass!
Another 15 minutes later when everybody had developed headaches the gears shrieked and we sped off through the loop-de-loops and corkscrew and the twists and turns and I wasn't the only one who was more than a little sick when we disembarked. I at least swallowed the upchuck twice--always considerate for neighbors I am--until I made it to the restroom and delivered my anxiety to the proper receptacle.
All this after telling Spec I never become queasy on roller coasters!
