Hell to the No

Anna Kane, 5, of Alton, Ill. lays down on 'The Ledge,' the new glass balconies suspended 1,353 feet (412 meters) in the air and jut out 4 feet (1.22 meters) from the Sears Tower's 103rd floor Skydeck Wednesday, July 1, 2009 in Chicago. The Ledge will open to public on Thursday.
(AP Photo/Kiichiro Sato)

I've got two words for this: fuck and you.

Mama don't like no heights. When I was younger it was so bad that I refused to fly and had mini panic attacks driving over large bridges. Thankfully, I've learned to deal with it but I'm still not a fan. I saw the story on the Skydeck on Yahoo this morning and a cold chill ran through my body. Egads, man.



That is the absolute pinnacle of insanity to me. I just about can't breathe whenever I think about this cat walking a tight rope between the Twin Towers. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the three wiseman and the sheep.



After all that, I will report that one of my proudest moments as a certified crazy person happened on my honeymoon at Disney World almost 14 years ago. John and I went to the Hollywood Studios park and saw The Tower of Terror. I don't know what possessed me, but I told him I wanted to do it. Perhaps I was feeling bold because I was embarking on a new chapter of my life as a married woman. Or perhaps I was just on a hormone high from all the honeymoon fornication.

Anyhoo, there was some sort of Twilight Zone themed mystery going on before we get on the elevator. However, I don't remember any of it because I wasn't paying attention. I was trying not to puke my guts up all over the lovely Hawaiian shirt clad tourists in our group. We got on the elevator car, strapped in, and began the slow ascent to my worst nightmare. The anticipation was mind numbing.

And then they just dropped us. Even after all this time, I can still feel the bottom dropping out from underneath me. The coup de fucking grace was when they stopped the ride, pushed the elevator car out of the tower, and opened the doors where we could see how high up we were. Then they pulled us back, shut the doors, and dropped us the rest of the way to the bottom. I swear to God/Yaweh/Allah/Hasselhoff that a piece of my entrails must still be embedded in the wall of that damned thing, because I screamed so loud it felt like my innards flew out of my mouth.

I could barely pry my fingers off the safety bar to get out of the seat. I was speechless for a good 5 minutes after we left the ride, which is impressive if you know anything about me and my big mouth. I have never been so horrified in my life, but I am so glad I did it. Whenever I think I'm a total nut case about heights, I can always go back to the moment I told my acrophobia to kiss my sweet ass.