This is my friend Diamondback. Here’s a better picture of him. I want to hug him a million and one times because he’s the only roller coaster that doesn’t hurt me with its ricketiness or make me want to hurl.
Yes, you heard that right. Color me senile, because anything that moves gives me motion sickness these days. Like, I don’t normally get carsick, but if I read, or play cards on a long road trip, or do anything besides stare out the window and people-watch other drivers because that’s just what I do when I’m a bored car passenger, my head gets angry at me and starts aching. I don’t really get airsick, either, but reading on a plane or watching in-flight entertainment makes me slightly woozy. I’ll do it anyway, though, because slightly woozy is much better than boredom, because if I’m bored, I will have nothing to do but notice how nasty airplanes smell. Maybe that’s what makes me sick more so than the motion. I don’t even know.
Get this, though: I am unable to watch action movies. It’s okay, because they bore me to death, but I would rather choose not to watch action movies solely because they bore me and not also because they induce dizziness. Action movies on the big screen are even worse. Inception? I had to close my eyes and put my head on my knees during a lot of the action. I don’t think I missed much, though — in fact, missing quite a few scenes must have made the movie shorter, but I still thought it was two hours too long. Action movies on the big screen when I’m sitting in the first few rows are impossible. This happened for Spider-Man 3 because we snuck into it after Pirates 3 and the only place with three seats in a row was the front row. My senility made me leave halfway through. Before you start feeling too sorry for me — I was bored anyway, not having seen the first two movies in the series.
So that’s why I only like chick flicks, comedies that are actually funny, and historical dramas — because they don’t bore me or make me projectile vomit onto the screen. (Sorry about that mental image. I’m doubly sorry because the action of someone else vomiting is enough to nauseate me. Hopefully you aren’t the same way, and if you are, hopefully you don’t have too vivid of an imagination.)
In terms of roller coasters, I can only stand them if they only go up and down and upside down a few times. Corkscrews are pushing it. Diamondback is lovely because it only goes up and down, and its first lift descends at almost a 90º angle (Wiki says 74º), which is the best ever. I have a friend who thinks ups and downs are what make you queasy, not spinny motions — if that’s true, I must be even less normal than I already am. Oh, and before you tell me to pop a few Dramamine and suck it up, Dramamine does not work. I have this theory that the normal kind “works” by making you so drowsy that you can’t feel the nausea anymore because you’re on the verge of falling asleep, and the non-drowsy kind exacerbates nausea by mixing it with slight drowsiness.
I can’t believe I basically just wrote an entire post about nausea and motion sickness. If I were more of a hypochondriac, I’d think that writing this alone made my head spin and stomach turn. (“Spin” and “turn” mean pretty much the same thing, but do you usually hear people say “my stomach spun” or “my head turned” in this context? Food for thought…)
Just wait until I’m actually old. By then, I’ll probably have to skip movies altogether due to motion-sick senility. I probably won’t even be able to move a finger or an eye without getting queasy. Oh dear. When that happens, it’ll be time to say goodbye to life. Figuratively. Literally will probably follow soon after.