The Order of Things (4D)
I love amusement parks.
Me at Disney World this summer. Happiest place ever.
I’ve been going to Canada’s Wonderland since I was a kid, and because I’m so tall, I was able to get away with riding coasters like Top Gun (or Flight Deck as it’s now legally named) when I was eight. My parents have since fallen out of love with the place – my mom because she hates rides and my dad because he hates people – but I still go when I can.
My family always had a system of going through the park: we went in a counterclockwise rotation, starting on the side with that old double looping Dragon Fyre and Drop Zone (or Drop Tower now) and ending on the side with The Great Canadian Minebuster and Top Gun – no, sorry, Flight Deck. The park has changed over the years, but my system still is in affect.
Cue three years ago: one of the first times I went with my friends instead of my family. Their hands all eagerly pawed at park maps and before long they started shouting in excitement about where they wanted to go first. “Vortex!” “No, let’s go straight to Behemoth!” “Let’s do the water park!” And with that, I became a dictator.
It’s nonsensical to go to Behemoth first, it’s halfway across the park. If we walk straight to Vortex, we skip over a handful of rides. Why would we go to the water park in the morning when we can go there to cool off in the afternoon – which would also coincide with my counterclockwise pattern? It’s all a matter of logic!
Imagine my delight when Dragon Fyre became the first ride of the day. Success!
My Route:
Makes sense, no?
My Friends’ Route:
WHAT?
I’ve been cultured to go about amusement parks with this orderly system, because to me, it doesn’t make sense to walk all over the place and have to backtrack. Even this past summer when I went to Disney Land and Universal Studious (oh my god The Wizarding World of Harry Potter!!!), my family and I went in a loop of the park, hitting each ride in a logical order on the path.
I take comfort with the familiar.
It’s one of my biggest OCD tendencies: the inability to deal with change and the refusal to deviate from what I find most comfortable. Something as insignificant as what order to ride the rides at Wonderland is a big deal for me because I’ve accepted it as what works best for me. I can’t let myself go out of my comfort zone and try something new.
That isn’t to say that I don’t realize the flaws in some of the things I so desperately need to have happen. In that way, I’m a true Taurus. I’m so stubborn it’s unbelievable. It’s not so much about logic for me as it is maintaining a peaceful state of mind. Even if the process is outdated or needlessly unnecessary, I stick to it because it’s what I know. Sure, I can easily give in and make a bee line for the new roller coaster because I really want to ride it, but I can’t let myself be so spontaneous.
I’m too calculated to be spontaneous.
I Googled “spontaneous people” and got this. I am not one of these happy women.
As much as I crave order, I fear spontaneity. I give credit to my best friends from elementary school because they’re the spontaneous type. They spring an elaborate plan on you when they’re already sitting and waiting in your driveway. It’s tough to deal with this uncertainty, but I try my hardest to be open-minded about going with the flow of things.
This speaks to the bigger picture – that is, I need control. It’s why getting behind the wheel of a car scared me for years, and it’s why I assume a position of leadership in group projects and commandeer the majority of the work. And again, that comes down to comfort: I’m at my most comfortable when I know every variable, possibility, and outcome.
It’s something I deal with. I’ve gotten better with things, mainly because I’ve been forced to accept that – and excuse my cliché philosophical moment here – life is extremely unpredictable, and what happens happens.
Confessions of a Paranoid Neurotic 