This is probably quite unexpected. I chose to write to notorious Hollywood bad boy, Colin Farrell. Colin hails from Ireland. Can you guess why I’d like to write to him? Other than Farrell being extremely attractive, Ireland claims the highest incidence of spina bifida in the world. Given those circumstances, the spina bifida cause would definitely benefit greatly from the support of celebrities and public figures from the Emerald Isle.
Farrell himself has a cause that’s very close to his heart. Just last night, he reportedly attended an “Evening with the Stars,” to benefit the Foundation for Angelman Syndrome Therapeutics (FAST). Farrell’s son was born with Angelman Syndrome, which is often misdiagnosed as autism or cerebral palsy.
The Irishman is also an official spokesperson for the Special Olympics World Games in Shanghai.
Having not known any of this about him until now, I must admit, there is clearly more to him than meets those gorgeous eyes!
Today was an unexpected surprise. Mom went shopping after breakfast, and I had plans to go out with Dad, somewhere. Aunt Giny called, reminding me we already had plans– I was to go with them to the New Hope for Kids Christmas celebration in Old Town, in Kissimmee. I had completely forgotten.
In the end, Dad decided to take me, so we all went. We had tickets for most of the rides, and I rode my first roller coaster. Dear God. Not a hardcore one, mind you! But it wasn’t for kids. Now, I do have a valid excuse for this being my first time on a “roller coaster.” When I was little, my parents warned me that I would dislocate my shunt if I rode any violent attractions.
My Dad asked if I wanted to ride it, but he didn’t pressure me at all. I made the decision to get on, and as I lowered the bar over my lap, my insides began to churn. I felt like I was in a horror movie. I kept reassuring myself that, if it wasn’t over soon, it was a bad dream for sure.
It was over in about 30 seconds. I never opened my eyes; in fact, I kept my face buried in my Dad’s arm. When I got off, I felt triumphant. Then, my cousin Andrea insisted I ride the Tilt-a-Whirl with her. Yes, it’s as horrific as it sounds. They’re like the Disney teacups on LSD. And it was much, much longer than the roller coaster.
Then, we had lunch. After, not before. Thank God for small miracles!
Now, I’m safely home, but about to get a cup of coffee with Dad. (You know my addiction!) This day has given me a newfound appreciation for the boring. But, not for long.