The story of yesterday's thrill-ride FAIL at Knott's Berry Farm is getting a lot of press. It's one of those CAN YOU IMAGINE kind of scenes that leaves us all feeling a little queasy. There you are... dangling 300 feet off the ground, for nearly four hours.

My reaction is more extreme. My palms sweat. My throat constricts. My nervous system goes into fight-or-flight mode. But not for the reason you might expect. My freak-out isn't about a fear of heights. Or crashing to the ground in some bone-splintering manner. All I can think when I hear things like this is... OH MY GOD what if I had to pee? Worse yet, what if I DO and all the camera crews are there waiting to interview distraught danglers when I come down in my pee-stained pants?

I can't even go on a car ride until I have that one last trip to the loo. Even if I just went 10 minutes prior. It's not that I have bladder control issues. Nor do I even need to pee with any notable frequency. I'm just terrified I'll be stuck in LA traffic, get in a wreck, have to go out on some field reporting assignment... and have nowhere to go if I have to GO.

Just to finish off my "stream" of conciousness TMI share for the day, I'm pretty sure this hang-up of mine has roots in the Dallas, Texas Hostess Factory tour of 1978. Yes, I title it like a historical fire or national tragedy. After repeated attempts and pleading with my elementary teacher to peel away from the group tour of assembly line Twinkie making for bathroom break, followed by a FILM on Twinkie making when she still kept shushing me.... I did the unthinkable. Which is to say I "sat in a folding chair with spilled water in it". That was my story then, and I'm STILL sticking to it.