I’m leaving for Cambodia in FIFTEEN DAYS.
My dad keeps asking me if I’m still excited. Which always strikes me as a weird question, you know, what other options are there?
But the tone of the excitement has shifted. It’s no longer flat out excitement, it’s panicky excitement. Like a roller coaster.
See, the beginning of last year was like waiting in line. You’re excited and a little impatient and all “FRONT CAR, HANDS UP!” And before the holidays it was like finally getting in the car and getting the safety belts all figured out and people coming by checking everything to make sure you’re good to go. December it was going up the hill, the ch-chink, ch-chink, ch-chink rattle of the chain lurching you up this really, really high hill and you’re still excited, watching the tree tops pass you and you’re getting higher and seeing more of the park.
And you get a little higher and then you can see the parking lot.
And a little higher.
Suddenly you’re eye level with the people in the drop tower on the other side of the park.
And then you look around and realize you are way up there, you are really fucking high and if you squint you can see another state’s skyline. And that’s when the fluttery panic-excitement kicks in. Because you’re still stoked as hell but now you’re looking down thinking, THIS IS REALLY HIGH. And I don’t know about you, but my feet tap on the floor when that happens, like I’m going to jump up and run away.
And the ride gives you that second and a half where the chain isn’t pulling you up anymore, you’re just sitting, waiting for gravity to finish pulling you forward and really start the ride. And it’s hardly enough time to blink but you can look down the track and see Holy shit this is really high and Idon’tknowaboutthisbutHEREWEGO!
That’s where I’m at right now. That second to two seconds perched at the top of the hill staring down the track and realizing Holy Shit, I’m Going To CHINA.