I just realised I ended my last entry with the implication that if I didn’t post again soon, it would probably mean that I had died of fright on a roller coaster, then… didn’t bother to post again. Despite the fact that there has been no huge outpouring of grief from my loyal readers about this, I thought I should probably set the record straight by recording that yes, I did try out the teeny tiny baby roller coaster I mentioned in my last entry, and no, I did not die. But almost.
What you have to understand here is that when I say "teeny tiny baby roller coaster" here, I AM NOT JOKING. This coaster is not tall. It does not go fast, or turn you upside down. There are no particularly steep drops or wicked twists. In fact, I’m pretty sure that it’s designed for children, such is the sheer tameness of the thing. All the same, as it begun its climb to the top of the frame, from which it would begin its lame, totally not frightening AT ALL descent, three things flashed through my mind:
1. I am scared of heights
2. And drops. Don’t much like drops, either. Even baby ones.
3. Actually, know what I REALLY hate? Like, more than almost anything in the world, except crabs and Crocs? Roller coasters. God, I hate them things.
And so it was that as soon as the ride started, I opened my lungs and commenced screaming, and I did not stop until was all over. And actually, maybe a couple of minutes after that too. Even the sight of a six year old getting out of the car in front of me did nothing to convince me that I had not just escaped with my life. And this is why I did not ride any of the coasters at Universal Studios/Islands of Adventure. I like to think of it as "knowing my limits". Terry likes to think of it as "being a complete and utter wuss" and… actually, you could call it that, too.
Despite this, we had a great day. The highlight, for me, was the new Simpsons ride, which is a simulator. Now, I like these, mostly because they ARE NOT ROLLERCOASTERS, and even although this one opens with … a roller coaster… I still loved it. So much so, in fact, that on the way out, I bought a Homer Simpson toy for Rubin to tear apart when when we get home:
Terry, of course, rode the coasters and loved them. So did my dad. My mum and I, meanwhile, found activities more suited to our level:
My dad had the camera on the wrong setting for this, but I think it worked out quite well because ooooh, look! Scooby caught a scary ghost! No, there is no trace of the fake tan job in this picture. Or, indeed, on me, because basically I got too lazy to bother maintaining it. You’d think the fact that this happens every. single. time. would deter me from using the stuff in the first place, but mmmm, nope.
Slightly less ghostly on the legs, though. But not much.
Yesterday was a little overcast, so we spent most of it shopping. Weirdly, I haven’t bought too much this year (other than all of Sephora, obviously), but I did buy some jogging pants and new running shoes because given the vast amounts of food I’ve been managing to consume since I’ve been here, I’m thinking the gym and I are probably going to be seeing quite a lot of each other when I get home. Which is something else to look forward too, only not really. Am totally dreading coming home already. In fact, I can feel that familiar fog of "Oh God, I don’t get to actually live here" depression start to descend, and on that note, I think it’s time to get me some sun while I still can…