Friday, February 12, 2010

360 Degrees of Aggravation

I don't get some people's fascination with roller-coasters. Hordes of thrill seekers (or the suicidal folk, as I like to call them) stand in line for hours at a time, all the while whining about how long it was taking, as if they were dying to get themselves strapped onto a speeding cart on a rickety suspended track. Although modern roller coasters are usually made of steel, there are still some constructed with wood. I find that nugget of information slightly disturbing, to say the least.

I don't know about you, but I always felt claustrophobic when the plastic brace lowered itself onto the passenger's chest and locks you in. The only motivation for me to actually go on a roller-coaster is the chance to brag about it; I don't actually enjoy the ride. The twisting and loops are not that bad, it's the free-fall feeling you get when the unstable contraption plunges almost vertically down that gets me. For that five or sex seconds, I'd be completely convinced I was going to die. A primal scream of utter terror (in retellings, I would say it's a yell of triumph and exhilaration) finds its way out of my lungs, as my face contorts into an expression I can only describe as
trepidation-personified.

You see how I would much rather be stuffing my face into candy floss than to subject myself to such torment.And I say stuffing my face, because literally the entire face gets into the floss at some point. You can never just eat it. It gets on your chin, your cheeks, your fingers, your eyebrows.. until it gets to a point where you're just snarling and tearing the candy floss apart while shoving it into your open mouth. Some say people look their worst after childbirth. I disagree. It is the ragged, panting, crazed look of candy floss eaters that are most frightening to me. Traces of pink and blue are still lingering on their faces, and they would hold their fingers up in a claw position because of the stickiness of the candy. If there was ever a massacre of the candy-folk, that would be how the mass murderer looks like.

The favorite theme park I've been to is the Warner Brothers one, over in Australia. Not for the crazy rides, although I can't remember exactly if there were any crazy rides at the WB park, but for the thrill of seeing movie characters come to life. Yeah yeah, I know they're underpaid and sweaty actors underneath the costumes, but it never stopped me from squealing "Harry Potter! You've really come to Hogwarts!" in a faux British accent and chasing him up and down the alleys. Beautiful alleys they are, too. Cobbled streets and antique-y streetlamps that make you feel as if you were taking a stroll in one of your favorite movies.

Needless to say, I can hardly wait for Universal Studios Singapore to finally open in march.

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