Saturday,
March 16, 2002

Guitars and Titans and rice, oh my!

It started out as your usual Saturday, honest. Lyndon, angel that he is, got up to walk the dog this morning so that I could sleep in, and when I got up I took him out for an additional piddle and poo (because, hey, that's just the kind of person that I am).

Upon returning home and noticing Pooch's additional whining, I went to go put some dog food in his bowl, when I realized that we were fresh out. As yesterday had been payday and all that, I thought it might be nice for me to bop out and actually do a stock-up at Albertson's. An hour later, I returned with a laden car and the further realization that I was supposed to be having a guitar lesson in 20 minutes and had to boogie in order to get out to MARS Music on time.

As I lugged the bags into the kitchen, Lyndon announced that Steve had called asking if I was interested in going to Six Flags. "I told him that you were planning on a quiet weekend," he said.

One part of my mind thought, "Aw, isn't he sweet -- he knows I'm tired and is trying to give me a chance to relax." The other part of my mind said, "ARE YOU NUTS? SIX FLAGS? I'M THERE, BAYBEE!!!"

Needless to say, the louder part of my brain won out, and I called Steve back to arrange to meet up after my guitar lesson. Which went surprisingly well -- I have a sweet lad named Drew as my teacher, and after listening to my rusty guitar stylings announced that my goal of becoming a reasonable lead guitarist for a cover band was perfectly achievable. I now have a list of chord charts I need to memorize, including bar chords (which are a pain in the ass to do at the moment -- I really need to work on the muscular strength in my left hand, not to mention calluses on my fingertips), and a set of finger exercises and pentatonic scales to practice.

Afterwards, I bopped up to McKinney to hook up with the Man (aka Mr. Rollercoaster Fanatic) and his son, and we headed off to Six Flags Over Texas. The first thing I did was purchase a season pass so that we can get in whenever we feel like going after work. The second thing I did was get on the Texas Titan.

Whoo. And whoo again. 255 feet high on the first drop, with speeds up to 85 MPH, a helix where you have so much momentum you're going UP, and some kick-ass camelback hills. When we got into the cars, Steve turned around, grinned evilly and said, "I want to hear you scream."

"I don't scream on rollercoasters," I said. Man, was I wrong -- I'm surprised I still have a voice.

Afterwards, we got back in line and went right back on, and this time I wore my glasses so that I could see where we were going. I have a dark, muddy and somewhat blurred picture of me braced and grinning like a loon on one of the hills that I bought from the picture stand -- I'll have to see about scanning it in and cleaning it up sometime this week.

In the meantime, the MfM was kind enough to take some shots of me at the top of the Oil Derrick overlooking the park. Sweaty, no makeup, hair a wild mess from two rides on the Titan -- yeah, these are some attractive images. There's another one where I'm posing with Leo, and he has this expression that says, "Get the crazy lady away from me -- she's SQUEEZING me!" The MfM threatened to make that his desktop picture and add the caption, "Don't fuck with me or the kid goes over the side!"

So, let's see -- we did the Titan twice, they went on the Shockwave (the cars really are too small for me at the moment), then we did the Runaway Mine Car and the parachute rides, before deciding we were exhausted (well, Steve and I were -- I suspect Leo could have happily stayed at the park until it shut) and need food. Luckily Hibachi 97 is nearby, so we had hibachi chicken, shrimp and steak there, made a brief pilgrimage to the Half Price Books next door (got a book on doing miniature Baltimore Album quilts -- score!), and finally headed home.

Okay, not the most relaxing of all days, but it was a hell of a lot of fun. And hey, I can always sleep tomorrow.