We finally made it to the OC Fair last night for the bull riding.
I found out a bit about John. He loves to feed goats. We fed goats for a good 45 minutes. And then we had to eat our cinnamon roll with the goats so he could watch them. Oh, my cute hick-at-heart! Few of you know that he was raised on a ranch on California's central coast. I think he felt right at home...
I do not handle carney rides well. I've known it since I was a little girl. I'm just sensitive like that. I rode two rides. The first one was pretty fun and scared the crap out of me. John didn't tell me until later that night that my face went pale after the first ride. But, it was the second ride that did me in. Because John is so much bigger than me, the lap bar stopped about 6 inches above
my lap. I was totally thrown around. All I could do was close my eyes and say, "Make it stop, make it stop!" If I was pale before the second ride, I was translucent afterwards.
I didn't ride this one... "evolution".
Something about falling asleep smelling like an open fire and feeling queezy kind of trumped the joy of eating grilled corn-on-the-cob and getting my face painted (didn't really do that part).
