I’ve been away for a minute (like I have fans where you check for me or anything) because NYC winters are giving me the blues. I am not built for this anymore, I don’t think. Los Angeles made my blood thin. If my chunky thighs aren’t enough to block the numbing cold, then I don’t know what is. What’s the point of having meat on your thighs if they don’t protect you? I miss my car. I miss DRIVING to the grocery store and not lugging food on the subway. Don’t get me wrong, I have deep love for NYC. I just can’t be plus 33 here anymore. There might be a baby in me and Scott’s future and curse be damned if I ride the subway with her. I’ll not have my man wind up in Riker’s for murder just because some idiot elbowed me on the train. True story: crazy chubby man asks woman with toddler if he can have her seat because his back is bad. Then he tries to kick game to her. Sigh.
Enough complaining. It’s sunny…and cold.
I had this revelation the other day. Well, I’ve had lots but this one is one that I want to write about. I was telling Scott about how I used to watch “The Breakfast Club” every day when I was about 15. My dad taped it for me from HBO when we didn’t have it and it became one of my best friends. Me, the kids and a big bowl of frosted Shredded wheat…that was my good time. I’m a Tootie (black girl with experiences beyond 40 ounces, incarcerated family members, shouting matches and a good afternoon with NWA blaring from the speakers. A Tootie can enjoy these things just as much as she enjoys Duran Duran, world travel, sushi and white people. Thanks, Marcella! Did I leave anything out?). So my Tootie membership explains why me and the kids in detention spent a lot of time together.
But that’s not the revelation. I’ve always been a Tootie.
My revelation is kind of like that play “Six Characters in Search of An Author” by Luigi Pirandello. Short summary: Six characters insist on being given life and state their case. My revelation is that those characters from “The Breakfast Club” are totally variations of me in different relationships. Check it:
Allison Reynolds (Ally Sheedy): The Recluse: a misfit and self-described “compulsive liar”. Okay that was me from perhaps 15-16 with a break and then coming back around to into at 19 and then 27. To all those boys during that span of time, I wasn’t really a liar. But I was totally into wearing all black, woe is me type deal,insisting that I was ALWAYS different from everyone else. I had to be. That was my identity. And the boys I dated really didn’t help much. Not that you’re supposed to I guess. If you aren’t The One for someone, I don’t suppose you want to invest time into telling somebody that they are needlessly suffering.
Andrew Clark (Emilio Estevez): The Athlete: a varsity wrestler. Okay that “you’ve got to win” speech he gives totally was the pressure I felt when I dated a few high pressure guys. It wasn’t really me that they dated but more my writing potential. I had several mini-breakdowns (french fries with gravy nights) and never felt good enough personally so I became defensive and didn’t want to do anything.
Brian Johnson (Anthony Michael Hall): The Brain: a nerd. Ah, this one I hadn’t seen in a while. Middle school. Not allowed to date. Had major life-will-end-if-I-can’t-wear-his-starter-jacket crushes. Except all I could do was just be smart. I didn’t really fit in during those times because I was in the smart group. Boys don’t like nerds…men might but boys don’t! Cool factor at an all time low. Except there were a few boys from the other side of the bookcase that made me stick with it. Lloyd West was one. Super poor, super cool, super funny. Encouraged me not to mess with the wrong group of kids, namely his friends. He died after high school. Shot by his cousin. So thank you, Lloyd. Your protection meant a lot.
Claire Standish (Molly Ringwald): The Princess: a wealthy, popular and spoiled girl. Okay I only had this for a brief time and you can eliminate wealthy. Ninth grade. My mom was big on me doing extra curricular activities during the summer and one of them was my four summer at the Detroit Council of the Arts Summer Youth Program. Now, in ninth grade, I had breasts already. I had a body, actually. Hourglass early. The first summer, it was terribly uncomfortable. I hated swimming suits and danced in t shirts with my tights and leotards. Second summer? Boys weren’t so bad. I couldn’t have boys calling me so I was literally like a Pink Lady every time I walked up to the building with my friend Brandy and her sister Tory. We couldn’t beat the boys away. I had boys mad at me for driving them crazy. I could care less. I would yawn when they snuck and called me (sorry, Mom. Not giving a boy your phone number in ninth grade is unreasonable. But you didn’t catch me for like three years so at least admire my craft work), begging and pleading for us to go out. It was a game. And then I started meeting older boys and my hormones made me crazy and I was obsessed and it was all bad. But for a brief moment, I was cocky. Good times. Didn’t last long.
John Bender (Judd Nelson): The Rebel: a troublemaker who continually causes problems at school. Okay, not at school because I would have totally been killed and buried by my parents BUT I did act out. Eli Elliott. Eli made me want to rebel. I thought he and I would get married (until he told me I could do the “writing thing” for a few years and then would have to stop so we could have kids. No, he wasn’t six years old. He was 17!). He wasn’t my “first” but I wish he had been. Eli set a precedence for a relationship that would take me ten plus years to get again. He loved me. He did anything for me. He wanted to talk to me on the phone. He would borrow a car to see me when he didn’t have one. He wanted me at his Sports Awards Dinner as his girl. He gave me attention no boy ever had. So it was almost worth it when he and I were making out in my house and my dad walked in and I thought I was going to be murdered. Eli ran out. My dad left and promised to be back. In the interim, I called all my friends and started giving my stuff away because my dad was obviously coming back to shoot me. When he did come back, he was silent. We got in the car. We drove. I imagined being on a milk carton. We pulled up in front of a restaurant. I ordered a burger as my last meal. My dad said, “If you get pregnant, you will break my heart.” I cried harder than any time I ever have in my life short of my father’s funeral. That was the end of my rebel yell. I could not sacrifice my dad’s love for a boyman’s love. And I didn’t have to. Eli stayed. Eli played by the rules to get back in the good graces. The rebel period and it’s make up years weren’t what killed our relationship. It was the fact that he was okay to let me go my senior year when he went off to college. In his mind, he was doing the right thing. In my mind, he had given up on us. My heart broke and I never wanted to be with him again. You see, too many people will doubt your relationship, but once one of you does something to indicate doubt, there seems to be no point. I forgot that lesson around 25 - 33. I convinced myself that doubt and questions were fine. Talking is fine. But doubt creates a scenario of unsafe feelings, of arguing for the “pro-relationship”, of anything blowing in and down goes your house of cards. Eli regretted it for years. Even trying to see me again at 27. It was too late then. I had gone back being Allison.
So it’s funny how a movie can tap into yourselves, even before you meet all of them. Hopefully I’m another character now. Not even in that movie. I’m aiming for Angelina Jolie in “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” I’m ready for taking care of home, saving the world, adventures with my homegirls and appreciating my hot man.
Cue the music: “Don’t you…forget about me….don’t don’t don’t don’t….”
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Awwww, this entry reminds me of why I LOVE Black women writers :)!
The experience of America, life, love, growin’ up to be grown and pop culture is unique to say the least, but to capture it in an essay/on the blogosphere like this is divine. It made my day :).
Comment by Nzinga — May 8, 2008 @ 5:17 pm