I want something to be scared of, of my own choosing. The Pensacola Interstate Fair 2020

Today is Tuesday.
It’s a little after lunch.
I’m slowly disconnecting from social media, and trying to post here, what I really want, instead of the instant gratification of a Facebook or Instagram post.
More on that soon.

THE FAIR IS IN TOWN.
I have loved the fair since I was a little girl.
I would dream of winning a gold fish. Funnel cakes. Rides.
We could never afford wristbands, but we’d get a few tickets, ride a few things, play some games, eat some good food, come home smelling like cigarettes with a fish that wouldn’t live to see the end of the week.

This year I scheduled the day we would go.
It just so happened to fall on the only day my husband and I both had off, it wasn’t supposed to rain, but also the day AFTER the day at the zoo.
#dearjason hated every second.

He hates the fair anyways.
So do most people I love.
He thinks it’s overrated, too expensive, dangerous and smelly.

I couldn’t love it anymore if I tried.

I forked over the $100+ for wristbands, knowing good and well that two of us (Jason and his mini, Juliana) wouldn’t be doing more than the carousel and the fun houses (which ironically ended up being equally as terrifying this year) but I didn’t care. I wanted it ALL.
This year has been full of so many unknowns, which I would have never willingly paid for.
At this exact moment, while we are not yet recovered from the last storm, another is headed straight for us.
Covid.
The election.
I am over all of it.

In fact, more than ever, if it was my time to do, and it happened while riding TWISTER at the fair, then so be it.
At least I had some say in it.

I didn’t die on twister.
In fact, worse.
I got nauseated.
Like some newbie.
I hadn’t even ate anything, but I’ll blame it on the fact that I was riding backwards, while also shooting.

I could see the elation on Jason’s face as we exited the ride, and I knew I looked like I might pass out at any given second.
“You ain’t what you used to be” is what his eyes said, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the next 4 hours and all of the cash we had proving him otherwise.

We had a blast.
Jesse rode his first coaster.
and then rode it again and again.
(proud mom moment)
Jackson still wouldn’t ride the wild claw, but did ride a few more rides than last year, and even rode some solo.
Joe Douglas is “five, and five year olds aren’t scared of anything” so he rode anything I would ride, which was the BIG SWINGS, tornado, a few other spinning rides, the big slide and he would have rode more if we didn’t have two party poopers to deal with.

Sissy got stuck on the giant spinning thing at the end of the “fun” house and Jason and Jackson had to literally rescue her.
I nearly pee’d myself which set her up to be in the worst mood for the rest of the afternoon.
it didn’t help that her first batch of fried Oreos were cold, and she’d later tell me she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want me to feel like I wasted my hard earned money. ((god love her))
Jesus was looking out, when for $20 and out of 7 contestants the buzzer rang on her water target, meaning it was her who got to choose ANY PRIZE from the giant wall of stuffed animals. She chose a llama.
Joe Douglas got his face painted, and Jesse cried on every ride they rode together after, which I feel like was a bad idea on my part, but thought he’d still know Joe was Joe. It complicated things though, and truly everything started to go down hill quickly after the paint job.

Jason drank (1) $5 beer, which was (1) more than I thought he’d purchase, but was still 4 short of him having as good a time as I did.
the highlight for me was the Turkey leg (from the bbq booth on the far right side, near the bathrooms, not the main strip)
I went to grab one for the road on our way home when GASPPPPPPP they were sold out, even though the fair was nearly empty. (also scary)
The roasted corn. and then the Oreo stuffed funnel cake, which helped to make up for sissy’s earlier disappointment.

It was everything I could have wanted and more.
it felt normal.
I’d much rather spend $$$ to eat food that’s terrible for me and ride questionable rides, than pay $$$ in insurance deductibles, or refunds because of hurricanes, or covid or you name it.
taxes.

It helped me regain the tiniest bit of “normal” even if the short lines, sanitizing, carnies in masks and “social distancing” signs everywhere tried to de-sensitize me.
Maybe today I will vote.
& pay my taxes.
Or I might just lay in bed and sleep.
I’m still recovering from a sugar hangover, tbh.

If you get the chance to go.
Go.
ride all the things.
eat all the things.

can’t wait to do it again next year.

here are a few of my faves.
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