If you’re feeling thick-skinned and want to join me at the Ex today, I’m the girl flying around solo wearing the I’M WITH STUPID t-shirt
You can’t miss me. This shirt works even better than the PATIENT ZERO one I usually wear when personal space is an issue. I may also be wearing a Jordan Baker hat, weather permitting, in which case I will be unmistakable
I went to the Ex again Saturday night, this time with Marie. We used to go to the Ex together all the time when we were kids and it was nice to do it again that’s for sure.
We only slid through the grounds though – and zipped into the Arts and Crafts building for a hit of nostalgia and lavender – on our way to the Cinesphere to see The Great Gatsby in IMAX or so we thought, but just before we zoomed across the water to the sanatorium where Nick Carraway was, something came on the screen for a second that said this is not the IMAX experience which is when I took my glasses off.
But it was fantastic anyway. What a movie! And, I was able to fully restrain myself from hollering “that wasn’t what happened in the book!” every single time that wasn’t what happened in the book
On our way back through the Ex I asked Marie if she ever went on rides any more and she said no, not since the trauma.
Now you have to be careful when people say things like this because you don’t want to sound insensitive by saying what trauma and then they tell you something monumental that you should have known and/or remembered if you were any kind of friend at all.
In this case, I should definitely have remembered because, as Marie so swiftly pointed out, I was the cause of said trauma. Imagine my surprise!!!!!!! And I’m being frugal on the exclamation points just so you know
Had I known that she was actually scared stiff — I might not have swung our little cage so so so severely every chance I got — but I thought she was only kidding.
I do remember that I simply could not wrap my head around the idea of her not actually loving rides as much as I did because we loved everything mutually, including making one another howl with laughter – which is exactly what I thought she was doing – and in a particularly effective and lasting way, too.
Maybe I’ll get her a Jordan baker hat like mine, you know, to make up for it. Or we could come back and see Life of Pi next weekend and I’d take her for a surprise whirl on the Ferris wheel just to show her I’ve changed