Rolla Coasta (of Love!)
Oct. 24th, 2003 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talktoolooseI'm feeling better today about yesterday's layoff of my friend. Having talked to him and others, it seemed that the last two years was a slow, drawn-out parting of the ways and it was time for everybody to move on. Today, I got a nibble on some freelance work I don't want. I'll send it his way.
On the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend (Oct. 11-13) we finally used the cheap tickets to Canada's Wonderland that Tutu scored by volunteering for UNICEF. It was a perfect fall day and an interesting development in my relationship with roller coasters.
When I was a kid, I didn't go near things that could potentially upset me. I remember, for instance, deciding I wouldn't go to the movie Jaws. I had dreams where I was trapped in a movie theatre where the movie (the only good one Spielberg was playing, hiding my eyes but still being somehow force-fed images of dismemberment. Later, it was big rock shows at Maple Leaf Gardens that scared me. Was I afraid of unsavoury types -- thugs that might bully me? No, I think I was afraid of not being good. I was afraid of a world where people smoked a joint, let their sexuality loose, opened up, rebelled.
Roller coasters were also verboten in my glass house of cards existence. The thought of putting myself through that stress was completely unimaginable. It was really in my 20s, along with Snake, that I learned to love the PLUMMET! I would grit my teeth as we lined up and wish I was anywhere else as we ratcheted our way up that first, terrible hill. And then, having dived and screamed and arrived safely at the terminal, I would feel brave and bouyant. Much like the way I felt after the first time I was fucked, come to think of it.
On Thanksgiving weekend, I was feeling sleepy and otherworldly and, really, nothing scared me at all. I did the Vortex, the Drop Zone, the Jet Scream with a sense of forthright adventure and calm observation. In fact, I used the opportunity to open my senses and explore new perspectives. We sat in the front car of the Vortex, a coaster suspended from above that rockets through the centre of the park and swoops down over the water. I decided in advance that I would be seeing the world the way a martin does when it dives close to the lake to catch mosquitoes in the twilight hours.
And, thanks to the generous groves of trees around the park, it was like flying through autumn itself, splashes of red and orange zooming past our eyes as we spun upside down and disappeared into the dazzling, chilled sun of the crisp October morning.
On the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend (Oct. 11-13) we finally used the cheap tickets to Canada's Wonderland that Tutu scored by volunteering for UNICEF. It was a perfect fall day and an interesting development in my relationship with roller coasters.
When I was a kid, I didn't go near things that could potentially upset me. I remember, for instance, deciding I wouldn't go to the movie Jaws. I had dreams where I was trapped in a movie theatre where the movie (the only good one Spielberg was playing, hiding my eyes but still being somehow force-fed images of dismemberment. Later, it was big rock shows at Maple Leaf Gardens that scared me. Was I afraid of unsavoury types -- thugs that might bully me? No, I think I was afraid of not being good. I was afraid of a world where people smoked a joint, let their sexuality loose, opened up, rebelled.
Roller coasters were also verboten in my glass house of cards existence. The thought of putting myself through that stress was completely unimaginable. It was really in my 20s, along with Snake, that I learned to love the PLUMMET! I would grit my teeth as we lined up and wish I was anywhere else as we ratcheted our way up that first, terrible hill. And then, having dived and screamed and arrived safely at the terminal, I would feel brave and bouyant. Much like the way I felt after the first time I was fucked, come to think of it.
On Thanksgiving weekend, I was feeling sleepy and otherworldly and, really, nothing scared me at all. I did the Vortex, the Drop Zone, the Jet Scream with a sense of forthright adventure and calm observation. In fact, I used the opportunity to open my senses and explore new perspectives. We sat in the front car of the Vortex, a coaster suspended from above that rockets through the centre of the park and swoops down over the water. I decided in advance that I would be seeing the world the way a martin does when it dives close to the lake to catch mosquitoes in the twilight hours.
And, thanks to the generous groves of trees around the park, it was like flying through autumn itself, splashes of red and orange zooming past our eyes as we spun upside down and disappeared into the dazzling, chilled sun of the crisp October morning.
