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November 2, 2009

October 16th Part Two.

AKA “The Day I Dropped Mah Basket.”

For the first part of this entry, clickety, clickety HERE. Or scroll down, or click over on the right hand side of the page … whatever.

I went into the living room to try and zone out on some mindless television program. I was trying to recover from my bout of anxiety induced vomiting. I needed to calm the fuck down.

While I was scrolling through the menu I happened upon the movie “Say Anything” with John Cusak. If you have to IMDB search to find out about this movie and you are not familiar with which I speak. GAH. You may be too young for this movie to mean anything to you. If so… then this post won’t either. UNLESS YOU AREN’T HUMAN*.

*Or you know, female. And very emotionally fragile.

I thought to myself, “Huh, I haven’t seen this movie in ages. It’ll be nice to see something that is familiar.” This… right here was my first mistake. And I settled in to watch it from the beginning.

Let’s tie in a little personal info that makes this movie extremely relatable to me.

Number one: I dated this guy when I was young, his name is Terry and we dated for about two years. He was a big influence on my life and we were very close for a very long time. Yes, I have written about him here before. Use the searching thing up there on the right. I don’t feel like linking to everything. Suffice it to say one of the reasons I feel like I totally KNOW John Cusak; and therefore totally love him as an actor; is because he and Terry share a similarity in looks and in personality.

Terry is tall, lanky and looks sort of like the love child of John Cusak and Tommy Lee.

Exhibit A:

Valentine%27s%20Dance%20182%20BC%20cropped.JPG

Picture courtesy of Mike. (scroll to bottom)

From left to right; me, Terry, Mike and that girl whose name I don’t remember. This is from a Valentine’s dance. We are all precious. And I believe Terry and I lost our virginity the evening that this picture was taken.

Number Two: I adored Terry, I thought that he hung the moon, stars and the blanket of sky that they lay within. He was smart, funny, not overly gregarious, ambitious at a young age and very independent. We had our futures planned out in very vague details. Yes, we were going to get married. Yes, we were going to have children. Twins, I believe, with androgynous names. He was going to be a lawyer and I… a something. Very important stuff. Also, very fuzzy.

My parents did not like him from the first moment that they laid their eyes upon him. At the time I thought it was insanely unfair (“KAAHHHHHHHNNN!” [fist in air]) and I rallied against their wish that I not see him anymore. They thought that his quiet nature and how crazy I was about him were a dangerous mix. I believe they saw the quiet (around adults) thing as a reason to distrust him. And, in hindsight, they probably knew that we were both pretty smart kids and anything we wanted to do (re: see evidence of “evening we lost our virginity” above) we would figure out a way to do it, regardless if we had anyone’s blessing or not.

Terry was only welcome in our home when both parents were there (most likely in the same room), we had to sit in the living room, NO SLOUCHING OR LEANING!, and every word that we said to each other was to be in normal talking. No whispering. I could go to his house if my mother cleared it first with Daddy and they talked to Terry’s parents. It was like being on house arrest. With no phone privileges… and I couldn’t close my door… OR (God Forbid) have a boy in my room.

Yes, we did things like sneaking out, he came over once when my parents weren’t home (OH MY GOD! We were heathens. We made out. Ring for the jailor!), the neighbors ratted us out, and he knocked on my bedroom window once when my grandmother was visiting and… therefore sleeping in my room. (Heh.) So it was spread throughout the adult kingdom that Terry and his friends were not welcome around me or my friends.

Exhibit B:

Quick%20Get%20Away%201986.JPG

Picture courtesy of Steph.

This is Terry and Mike jumping the fence of Stephanie’s house because her dad had just come home and they were not allowed at the pool party she was hosting. Also… HAAAAA. Or also known as, “Crap, the freaking gate is locked.”

So there I was, watching “Say Anything”, curled up on the couch trying to forget about the phone call from IT. I was already totally into the movie when this scene comes on that I had totally blocked from my memory.

Apparently.

Diane and Lloyd (Ione Skye and John Cusak) are in his car, they are parked somewhere (Lord.) and they are having sex.

This conversation takes place:
Diane Court: Are you shaking?
Lloyd Dobler: No.
Diane Court: You're shaking.
Lloyd Dobler: I don't think so.
Diane Court: You're cold.
Lloyd Dobler: I don't think I am.
Diane Court: Then why are you shaking?
Lloyd Dobler: I don't know. I think I'm happy.

The scene is sweet, it is heart breaking it is perfect. My mind went into overdrive and I remembered a similar conversation that Terry and I had.

Things started unraveling inside my head, memories resurfacing, heartbreaking recollections and a tidal wave of emotion threatened to flatten me.

I hit pause on the remote control.

Exhibit C:

Say%20Anything.JPG

I promptly dropped my basket, lost my shit, started sobbing hysterically and tried to reason with my crazy ass self about why I was so freaking upset.

It went somewhere along the lines of (and really, don’t try to make sense of this, just kind of read it and cast it aside, or your brain will break) “He looks so much like Terry.” “He was that sweet.” “I wonder how he is.” “I lost my virginity to him.” “Why did Satan have to lose all of my personal folders?” “Terry was so kind to me, why did … why did… ?” “It is so sad that things turned out like they did.” “I don’t have a uterus anymore.” There were thousands of wordless images and thoughts swirling around my noggin. Annnnnd commence bawling.

Number three: In these hallowed halls I have mentioned Terry a few times (here’s one) because he was such a major part of my developmental stage as a young woman. Did I also tell y’all that Terry and my best buddy Dre were best friends in high school? No? Maybe? Well, since the wonderfulness that is having Dre back, we’ve both scoured FaceBook for Terry. Internet stalking? Surely not.

Okay. Yes.

We found him a few months ago. He friended us both (and Mike too) and he sent me the sweetest email telling me that “your parents were right about me” and that he is doing well, never married, never had kids, is now a chef. And then a few weeks ago he finally posted a picture of himself.

Fucker (she said sweetly) hasn’t aged a DAY in twenty years.

Exhibit D:

Current%20Pic%20TM%202009.JPG

Number four:
He still looks like John Cusak. And if you will direct your attention to the screen shot I made of the movie you will notice that there is a timer.

Scroll up and look.

Yes, it took me over FOURTY-SEVEN plus minutes to regain composure.

I hopped onto Google Talk and hit up my old buddy Dre.

I told him that I had lost my damn mind and he talked me off the ledge and away from the “all cards on the table” approach of failure. One instance in where I was fully committed to sending Terry an email to tell him about my breakdown.

(pause for laughter)

Yes, I am insane.

Let’s all take a moment to find Dre and tongue-kiss him with gratitude. Thank you kind sir. You have yet again kept me from making a complete ass out of myself. (rounds of applause and standing O’(faces)s) - He loves innuendo. Leave a comment for him, and make it dirty.

I did not message, call, text, send a homing pigeon or a CandyGram to Terry. I have yet to do so. And hopefully will retain full use of my mild sanity to keep from doing such.

When I got my shit together I called Mister and warned him of my fragile emotional state and why. He gave me the appropriate, “Oh baby!” and didn’t try to fix my problem (YAY!), he just listened and brought home dinner.

I’m SO glad that I didn’t send Terry (poor man… if he only knew) a massive email detailing things that happened back then and why I was crying now. It would have been worse than drunk dialing. WAY worse.

So, thanks guys. I love having a place to put my crazy.

MWAH.

Ps. Satan never did replace those files.

Pps. I have the song “Sweet Transvestite” from the Rocky Horror Picture Show in my head on continuous loop. Awesome.

About November 2009

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in November 2009. They are listed from oldest to newest.

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