Back on November 16, 2007, I wrote THIS:
Okay, it was a short post, so if you don't want to click, here it is again in it's entirety:
A Sign Of The Times
Yup. Christmas is coming, alright.
Now, six years later (holy crap, I just realized it's nearly to the DAY - that's scary), I still get way too many flyers and no newspaper, but to make matters worse, I am getting inundated with an avalanche of EMAIL adverts too....
13 new emails this morning. Only one of which was NOT advertising. I have been hitting the Unsubscribe button on a daily basis. You know, that teenie tiny link sneakily hidden somewhere in a light colour at about point 2 font size like this: unsubscribe
And not only do you have to hit the link, there is always that inevitable questionnaire on how sorry they are to see you go (sob!), and why oh why on earth would you leave us! (simply check off a reason from our handy-dandy list of 30 choices), oh and by the way, it will take at least 10 business days to process your request (insert evil laugh here).
Both my blue bin in the garage and my trash bin on the laptop are filling up fast.
Yup. Christmas is coming, alright.
Oooh. Déjà vu.
While in Florida a few weeks back, I decided that even though I was alone, I had to visit both Disney World and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Since motion-sickness prevents me from trying most of the rides, I still was planning on walking about, picking up a few souvenirs and relaxing on the more docile attractions.
At Disney World, after enjoying a smooth sail on Pirates of the Caribbean, I wandered about Adventureland. I could hear a train whistle in the distance and thought a nice steam locomotive ride would be nice. When I saw there was a line up though, I decided to Fast Pass it and come back later instead of waiting around.
Little did I realize (until it was far too late, stuck sardine-like inside as the crowd inched forward, natch) that "Big Thunder Mountain" is NOT the steam locomotive ride... it was a kerazy roller coaster!
Oh crappity crap crap!
I texted daughter back home panicked that I was about to die. Or be horribly sick. SHE thought it was hilarious.
I however, did not. But I did survive. Barely. And I kept brekkie down. I was, however, nauseous for about two hours.
So you'd think I wouldn't make that mistake again.
Well, you'd be wrong. Very wrong.
For as I was enjoying my visit to Hogsmeade at The Wizarding World Of Harry Potter a few days later, (you can read all about that HERE) I made a stupid decision yet again.
As I was walking up to Hogwart's, I assumed I was heading for the castle tour. When entering the dark interior, the first thing they tell you is that you have to leave all your belongings (including my large camera) in a free locker. Surprised, I did as I was told but was disheartened to learn that I wouldn't be able to take photos of the tour. Oh well, it looked to be awesome anyway.
Because I was alone, they unclipped a barrier and directed me up a corridor away from the 45 minute wait line.
Brilliant! I could hardly believe it!
But before I knew it, I was herded into a seat, locked down with three other people and quickly whisked away sideways.
Holy crap! I was on the RIDE! I knew instantly what a mistake this was; Hermoine waved her wand and we soon were flying up above the castle, led by Harry on a broomstick. Up and down, around and around we went... now I knew why this seat was molded to hold you in tight. I watched for a bit, felt quite green and squeezed my eyes shut as I endured a seemingly endless jostling (it was only about 5 minutes in reality).
I bravely opened my eyes a few times to witness dragons, Aragog (a huge spider), Dementors, the Death Mark over the Quidditch patch and was relieved to finally see the whole gang greeting us on our return to the castle. I did it! I staggered off the ride and welcomed the fresh air outside once more.
At least I can watch what I missed, safely seated in my stationary chair at home:
Hopefully I have now learned my lesson. I just can't be allowed to go to a theme park alone anymore - I need someone to tell me "No Maureen - this isn't for you."
Because I obviously can't seem to handle that responsibility myself.
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