The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.
In the week after school broke for vacation I went to see Scream with KenMills, Adam, and Adam’s girlfriend at the time. The movie, which I’d expected to be kind of shitty, was actually pretty good. Ken was disappointed that Drew Barrymore died in the first ten minutes. She was the entire reason he’d wanted to see the flick. We got there late because of the snow as well and by the point we got there we basically got to see Drew die and that was it.
After the flick, when KenMills was driving back to his and Adam’s apartment, where I’d parked my car, we got into a minor fender-bender because of the slippery conditions. We ended up having to pull Ken’s hot-pink car into a parking lot while everything was sorted out. It occurs to me that it wasn’t actually our fault, that we had stopped in time but the guy in back of us hadn’t and he’d pushed us into the guy in front of us.
It didn’t take too long to sort out, but while it was sorted out we talked about whether Nydia was my girlfriend and how much we each liked the movie.
After that it was off to my house for me and looking forward to Christmas, when my relatives would be coming up from North Carolina to celebrate with us.