Don't Stop Me Now!

I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars,
On a collision course!
I am a satellite, I'm out of control!
- Queen

Because the weekend was spilling over with tons of free time and some cash to spare, Bruce, Obi, Abbey, and I decided to devote the entire Saturday to a romp through Enchanted Kingdom. Actually, romp doesn't quite cut it. What we were really planning to do was to challenge the presumed capacity of our vocal chords by going through the real screamers. Haha, I'm sorry, I'm being such a bastard! That was just a complicated way of saying that we wanted to jump into every worthy ride and shriek ourselves hoarse.

Two things, however, put a damper to our bucking enthusiasm. The First Downer was the fact that Anchors Away, one of the rides we most fervently worshipped, was undergoing maintenance and was therefore out for the day. Upon being informed of this, we were so overcome with emotion that the four of us promptly ripped our shirts apart and sprouted sudden chest hair. Furthermore, we each turned a frightful shade of green and began speaking in what was later determined to be Latin. Park authorities were forced to throw us out of the premises until we calmed down, and even then, they sprayed us with staggering doses of mace.

I'm kidding. All we did was look sorrowfully at the ride, the impotent fake ship hanging there, and thought of how Enchanted Kingdom was quieter by a thousand screams because Anchors Away wasn't open. What a bummer.

The Second Downer was the violent spell of rain that assaulted the Park for at least an hour. As luck would have it, the rain fell hardest while we were in the middle of going through the Jungle Log Jam. So while our plastic log was being lifted up the ramp for the climactic drop-off, rainwater sluiced off our faces and prevented us from seeing much. Our screams were mostly intuitive -- we couldn't see exactly how far the drop was because of the rain, but our bellies sure sensed it, and we squealed like stuck pigs until our log hit the water.

For those who are familiar with the ride, you're probably just as well-acquainted with the camera strategically positioned by the Jungle Log Jam's famed drop. Once you've wrung the water out of your hair and walked through the exit, you can check out the captured images of you and your plastic log when it's falling off the edge and your scream is vaulting up from your stomach and out of your mouth.

We checked our picture out and sure enough, the camera's timing was right on the money. Because I was at the front of the boat -- I always take the front seat -- my face got total, maximum exposure. So did all of my teeth, which were faithfully reproduced by the camera and graciously revealed to the public by my mouth opened in an uncompromising AAAAAAA! I swear I could've traced out the crannies on my molars just looking at that picture. I've always known that I literally (and figuratively) have a big mouth, but when I saw my Jungle Log Jam picture, I realized that I could solve the overpopulation crisis by inviting whole cities and villages to reside in my mouth. In fact, if I can stretch it enough, around half of Mindanao can relocate and set up shop on my tongue.

That's actually a gross thought.

Despite the rain and the absence of Anchors Away, the four of us still managed to have a spanking good time. The rain caused the crowd to thin out a bit, and we took advantage of this by going on repeated takes on the roller coaster until we'd ridden it about ten times - maybe more!


During the first six times that we rode it, we screamed our heads off and kept our arms raised gamely overhead. On our last few stabs at the coaster, though, we dared each other not to scream and to look as poker-faced as possible. In an attempt to affect boredom, Bruce and I sang The Do-Re-Mi Song (Doe, a deer, a female deer!)while our car thundered over the rails and all we could see were treetops and dirt and treetops again -- I was so addled, though, that I forgot at least half of the song's lyrics. Once the ride came to a stop, Abbey and I found ourselves giggling in our seats, tickled to the bone by our own fruitless restraint and general silliness.

We also went through the standard rides: the Rialto, the humongous ferris wheel, and the Flying Fiesta, which we rode on whenever we wanted to dry ourselves off. Obi didn't fare so well with the Flying Fiesta, though. The poor guy disembarked from the ride looking pale and quite ill, but he got almost no sympathy from us, not even from Abbey The Girlfriend. Aww, Obi, we tutted, you don't seem so well. Dizzy from the ride, huh. What a loser!

Anyway, Enchanted Kingdom was awesome, although we were all beat at the end of the day; we didn't even have enough energy to keep a conversation going during the ride home. Abbey and Obi were knocked out and asleep in the backseat, and I sang to myself and along to my Discman while Bruce drove us all back to Manila's snaking highways.

What else do I say? All I know is that the best theme park rides let you nosedive when every force calls for it. You gotta let gravity do its job. It's awesome to be scared shitless for a few seconds and to hear, afterwards, the dogged mortal speech of your own heart. Why, you almost thought you'd lost it to the sky.
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