Adventure in Wonderland
I spent yesterday testing my mettle at Paramount Wonderland and I have to say that although I had a fun time, some of those rides offer way more thrill than I need.
We took the GO bus to Wonderland and I was very impressed. (My 1st time on the GO) Anyone who has taken the TTC before can appreciate the drastic difference. It was like being bumped up to business class.
Anyway, back to my adventure in Wonderland…so, the bus ride was quick and comfortable and the park admission was a bargain since we got half-priced tickets. The weather was lovely (une journee ensoleille) and I was ready to face my fear(s)!
I was entertained on EVERY single ride and by “entertained” I mean that I could not stop screaming at the top of my lungs for the duration of the ride. (except Thunder Run which wasn’t scary or maybe by that time I was all screamed out) At times the screaming was in delight, but more often it was due to a pre-conceived fear that was exacerbated by an overdose of adrenaline. It was always the falling forward that freaked me out. I was fine if I couldn’t see the drop ahead but as soon as I saw it, the stomach turning sensation came over me. I kept on going in spite of it and I exited each ride with a head rush and a little more confidence. I had my fearless Virginie with me so it wasn’t so bad. (I chose to watch from the ground while she was dangled upside down on JetScream) Didn’t someone say that you have to face your fears in order to get over them? Well, face it I did and gotten over it I may have. I’ll still scream my head off on those rides but it won’t be ‘excessive and disproportionate to the situation’.
“It was quite a wild ride” – That’s a headline from today’s Boston Globe which accurately sums up my day at Wonderland! However, it refers to Danica Patrick, who made racing history with 4th at the Indianapolis 500 yesterday. I welcome a challenge and I admire those who make the most of it. She is now the highest-finishing female driver there, bettering Janet Guthrie's 9th in ‘78. She also became first woman to lead a lap in the 89-yr history of the race (she took the lead on Lap 190.) Good for her! I have a new appreciation for the gall that it takes to compete in racing thanks to my personal history-making experience of free-wheeling at high speeds, through sharp turns and extended moments of zero-gravity.
It’s exactly like Alice concluded when she fell into the rabbit hole “after this I should think nothing of falling down stairs”.
One day at a time
I woke up this morning feeling drained from a night of wallowing in self-pity and who hasn’t been there before, right? I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about though. I was alive, healthy, well provided for and generally happy– but still I’ve been carrying this overwhelming feeling of despair all day so far.
So, I started to walk backwards in my mind… (refer to “Things I Learned from Sesame Street” whenever I get around to posting it).
Suddenly the disappointment from last night came over me like a disastrous repressed memory that was unwillingly recalled. Oh yes, there it was, perched at the front of my usually rational mind and begging for painful consideration. I remember that first there was glee at the prospect of attending the Michael Buble concert last night, followed by confusion after I had been very unreasonable with the person who I was supposed to go with (NB:he wasn’t exactly cooperative either), then disbelief that he didn’t pick me up to go to the performance, immediately followed by regret because I didn’t go and mostly because I had allowed myself (my pride) to cause grief to an underserving person and to chalk up another neglected opportunity.
Reality check:
I may have missed the performance, but Buble didn’t miss me being there.
I was nasty to a wonderful person and so I feel so stupid/sorry/sad.
It’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be – I could just work up the courage to call him and make sure he’s alright.
I’m not the only person that has occasional impaired judgement. (Gosh, I really hope I’m not!)
Ok, so now that I’ve established that I was feeling crappy for no other reason than because we had a “fight”, I just have to apologize to him and move forward. (Hey, I actually feel better now!)
Lessons learned:
Each day/opportunity is a blessing that we must choose to make the most of.
The well-being of my loved ones is critical to my own well-being.
I’m sure our friendship is sturdy enough to survive this.
Everybody makes mistakes and learning from them is one of those things that keeps my life interesting.
I am very sorry for what I did but it’s not beneficial to live in regret of what I’ve done in the past or to dread the dumb things that I will do in the future – it’s all about making the most of today. I received an e-mail with a precious reminder –“Each day is a gift, that why it’s called the present”
That works for me - I love presents!
I m getting canadian...
It s two month now I m in Toronto and I like it very much... Last week end it was very intersting for me cause I went to Quebec and everybody spoke french to me. Well I don t miss speaking french but it s fun cause they have a diffrent accent and they thought I had a strange accent too...
I finally had my day in court
Ok, so it's been a while since the last (1st) post...
Yesterday (7pm, Court room J) was my first day in the Old City Hall court (albeit traffic court) and I won my case! (well it was withdrawn by the prosecution, but that's a technicality)
It was the first time that I had stepped inside that stately building and it was a grand feeling. Even as the modernization/restoration slowly continues on the exterior, the judicary processes were going full speed ahead in their traditional manner within the interior.
As good a day as any
It's Tuesday - not a significant commencement point like Sunday or Monday - but I've started our blog anyway. We've always wanted to chronicle our adventures and today seems as good as any day to begin.
This (true) story began about 16 years ago and as you can imagine, we have a lot to tell!
We were born and raised in two totally different countries on opposite sides of the atlantic and we're very different in appearance and countenance. Our friendship was initiated when we were about 11 yrs old by a lucky twist of fate and it’s kept in tact by our eerie similarity to each other. In spite of being in vastly different places, we’ve led almost parallel lives.
Those lives have now converged and the saga continues. I really don't know where to begin - My name is Sherry, her name is Virginie and this is a beautiful life...
