i am rarely paralysed by fear. in fact, i like to believe i look at fearful things and laugh- LAUGH- at them. One arena in which this does not, will not, and cannot apply is me driving over a bridge.
when i first came to canada to work, i got stuck at one end of a bridge and my partner, who is english though landed in canada, got stuck at the other. it was the Ambassador bridge, of all places. and while i could easily turn around and go back to detroit (sigh), the otherh basically had to make a (loud, loud) case that the queen should be called to get him unstuck. this was persuasive. we got across eventually.

so. driving over that fucker gave me about the worst panic attack i've had since i realized who was going to be president no matter what (circa 2000).
i simply don't do bridges very well. overpasses i can mostly manage with no stress and no pharmaceuticals, but not so on the bridge thing.
today i drove from TO to buffalo. i was forewarned that there was a bridge to the US side. one bridge. three hours in advance. i could do it, eyes on the road.
There were three. the big momma of them was of course the royally inaptly named peace bridge. here is some of how it looks from different places, angles, and omgs.
this is not innocuous: it is a bridge. i don't give a shit about symbolism, it's a hunk of weight over water.
the idea still shivery frightens me. it's not rational, it's just phobia.
here's another view, not the one i had
isn't this a little bit "wow, maybe there's a point here"?
and then there was buffalo.
on the canada side they give you about 50KM to get ready to traverse a bridge. it's like they can't wait to get people out of the country. "Bridges to USA" signs abound, starting about hamilton. (a hike from the border itself.)
and buffalo gives me a sign ontop of the exit:
(the one on the right says "peace bridge, ft erie can" but it doesn't say "GO TO CANADA- THIS EXIT). reading + driving = me lost in buffalo looking for the right u-turn. i had to pee so badly i took a leak in an empty parking lot next to a service station with no working washroom.
and this is me (no it isn't) following the very horrifying bridges experience (in total there were 6 fucking bridges, all over water, for me to get the fuck over (which i did albeit very unhappily)
so, right. mad props to a.human, btw, for this pic

actually doesn't look like me at all, come to think of it. i was more like a soggy piece of french toast.
And all of this is notwithstanding how differently the border patrol treated us (driving girlfriend to buffalo for a flight one way and "why the hell are you driving a canadian car" the other way.) needless to say, we caught the most shit from the U.S. side, despite being citizens carrying next to nothing. i think it's because my girlfriend told the first border guard not to steal her vibrators.
Note: do not make funnies with border patrol. your car will get combed through by jovial but serious people. i don't need to re-explain to anyone again in my life why i have condoms, coffee cups, old wallets and 900cds. not to mention i don't like the question, "Are you packing any knives?" HUH? No, i have a girlfriend and a desire to go to the duty free shop.
oh i've so gone chatterboxly on this one. i have more news, but i'm going to sit on it for a day.
socialism rox