Funny how weekends just fill themselves up sometimes. I finally went to Great America for the first time after having been here in the Bay Area for…jeebus…almost 4 1/2 years now? I went with Ryan and some of his peeps. One of his friends, a San Jose native, says it’s not what it used to be–hence, the not-so-bad lines. And the pulling out of shiny Paramount left otherwise pretty fun rides with lackluster names, such as Flight Deck (previously called Top Gun). Not that I really mind, but uhh, something to say in a blog entry=). The day was hot, but we managed to jump on a couple slides at Boomerang Bay to cool off for a bit (required me to purchase a pair of board shorts at the park because–surprise surprise–I was wearing jeans). Invertigo was my favorite ride. Drop Tower Scream Zone scared the poop out of me…twice. Good times indeedy.

On sort of a whim, I headed down to the Gilroy Garlic Festival Sunday with almost the same Saturday crowd, minus a couple. I’d have to say the Garlic Festival is probably something you should go to once…or not. The hour-plus traffic just to get there had us second-guessing our decision to go at all. Then there was the ridiculous $12 just to get in. It was hot and crowded and dusty. The food was tasty, I have to say–of course, also fair-expensive. I had a deep fried fish taco, tried a bit of Ryan’s garlic shaved ice, and crab garlic fries. Missed out on the free garlic ice cream because the ridiculously long line scared me away. We went to a cooking demo, where they whipped up garlic fried calamari. Unfortunately, it was a look-smell-but-don’t-eat kind of deal. Boo. Kyle, our fearless-but-frustrated driver, felt the festival somewhat redeemed itself, as he found a Slash-looking leather hat that fit his noggin quite handsomely. All in all, I thought the festival was still fun. Oh, how the garlic lingers…