What Even is Sadness?

Hello, Sunshine

Like the Carpenters said, rainy days and Mondays always get me down. And I’m blue today.  I’ve tried to put this off, but I think it’s come to the point in my little blog journey where I need to tell you about the worst day of my life.

The day I leaned what sadness is.

I mean, I thought I knew. I’ve read Me Before You. I’ve watched Titanic. Hell, I’ve held the hand of my grandfather while he took his last breath. I thought that was the saddest thing I’d ever go through.

I was wrong.

I’m a creature of habit. I was born and raised in the same town. I live three blocks from my parents, who still live in my childhood home. I only ever shop at Giant because I have the aisles memorized, and I always order the same thing at Cold Stone. My parents are still married, and I’m the younger of two children. I’m still best friends with the people I grew up with, and I met the man I married when I was eighteen, we have a cute little house and some furry babies. Better yet, I get paid to do what I love. To say I have a charmed life is pretty accurate.

The thing is, I was always haunted by this dream I had. When I was little, maybe five or six, I had this vivid…vision? Nightmare? Fever dream? I don’t know, but everything was white with a single rope, thick like on a boat with three knots tied in it. The first two were close together, leaving the space between the second and third about triple the length of the first. Then a voice said, “This is how long you’ll live, and this is how long your brother will live.”

Rightfully so, it scared the shit out of me, but I kept it a secret. I’d been having panic attacks since it’s happen, freaked out that I’d die by the time I was 27. (But if you have to go, you might as well join the club with Jimi, Janis, Kurt, and Jim, right?) The closer I got to the magic number, the more I opened up about it, telling my closest friends, basically giving away all my worldly possessions, mainly my *NSYNC CDs and favorite DVDs. I reached 27 without incident, then 28, 29, and finally 30 last November. At that point, it was a big joke to everyone. I made it to the big 3-0, life was gravy! I’d pretty much live forever, ah-ha, suck it dream!

Then, on December 15^th of last year, my brother died suddenly.

It was a Tuesday, around 9:30 when my mom called me screaming. I can’t tell you how I functioned to speak to the police and the coroner. I don’t know how I held my mom as she cried, or got it together to call the people I was supposed to. But I do remember quite clearly how it hit me a few hours later. How I went outside and just…lost my mind.

It was supposed to be me. The dream told me so.

But it was my brother. He was the one who didn’t make it. My brother, my first friend, my protector, my favorite person, made it to 33 years-old. (Just like Jesus. That’s a pretty sweet club, too.)

A few days later, the coroner told me it was a massive heart attack, his heart was three times the size it should have been, something about arteries and blockages, and more and more science words until finally he said, “It would have happened immediately like an electric shock.”

My brother was a obese for a lot of his life, but he was finally getting healthy, losing weight, going to the gym, and visiting a nutritionist regularly. Funny, cause he died outside the gym after a workout. He had texted his girlfriend to meet up with her later, got in his car, sat down, put the key in the ignition, closed his eyes, and took his last breath. He didn’t even close the goddam car door yet.

It happened in a second. He was alive, and then he wasn’t.

I had a brother, and then I didn’t.

I was a younger sister, and now I’m an only child.

And it happened in a second.

That was December 15^th, 2015. That’s six months, 150 days, and some 3,600 odd hours since my old life came crumbling down. It was the day I learned what true sadness is. The day I become a different person.

My brother left two little kids, who are too young to fully grasp what happened but cry none-the-less because my brother was a great daddy. He left 120 middle school English students, all of whom wrote letters, came to the funeral, and threw a fit when the school finally brought in a replacement, who tried to take down his posters in the room. He left the high school football team he coached, who actually had a wining record this past season! He left his writings unfinished, his iPod only halfway charged, and his Star Wars:The Force Awakens tickets unused in his wallet (He'd been practically jizzing in his pants over that movie.) 

He left the world before he should have. And it fucking sucks.

So, there you have it, my saddest day. I'll continue to write about my big brother because he is a huge part of my life. He's the reason I started writing to begin with. He influenced the music I listened to, the movies I watched, and the books I read. My brother is as much a part of me as I am alive, so there is no way I won't be able to write or blog without mentioning him at least a few times. 

#AndrewJamesDoran

Suz

The One with a Movie

Hello, Sunshine

Two years ago today, I attended a film premiere. My own film premiere. That's right, I made a movie! An actual movie, not the kind you only watch when you're alone, or the kind you post on Vine, but a real movie.

See?



Good stuff, right?

In case you don't know anything about filmmaking, it's really hard. And I don't say that condescendingly, but most people don't realize the amount of work that goes into a 90 minute film. The number of people needed, the hours and hours and hours put in before a camera is even picked up, the numerous excel spreadsheets, the hundreds of phone calls and meetings, and the paper clips. It's a massive amount of paper clips. Hell, I didn't even realize what it took to make a movie before I made one. Baptism by fire, that's how I roll.

Me, my mohawk, and Jess at the premiere.

It all began how all good ideas do, over a couple of beers. Jess, my best friend/soul sister/brain twin, and I were sitting around talking about all the stupid stuff we've done. We were like, man, our shenanigans would make a good movie, a la Superbad but with chicks, so we got out a pen and paper and started jotting things down. Neither one of us knew how to write a movie, but from that day, we decided to learn.

My favorite shot. Took six hours to get because the sun wasn't cooperating. 

Jess and I met in journalism class in high school so we knew how to write, but a screenplay was a whole new beast for us. We took classes, read books, joined writing circles, the whole shebang. Eventually we completed it. Then we wrote another, and another, and another, thinking one of these bad boys had to hit. Someone had to want one of our ideas! Someone? Anyone?

Jess, me as a zombie, and Bennet, our sound guy.

We tried the query thing, we tried the LA thing, we even tried the stalk Adam Sandler thing cause he makes crappy movies all the time, but none of it worked. So, in the fall of 2012, we decided to open our own film company, Tinker Films. I started writing Just Like We Used To Do in the middle of the night on a random Wednesday, sent the first ten pages to Jess, and she emailed me the next day with, "This is it. This is the one we're making."

So we did. But how when we knew nothing about making a movie? Google, of course.

The car that broke down no less than 3 times on set. 

We pulled our resources, raised some money on Kickstarter, turned on the Bat Signal for talent, and voila, we had a movie. From start to finish, it took a cast of about twenty people, a crew of about thirty, thirteen days, and one broke down Chrysler to make it all happen. I slept, like, ten hours total for those two weeks, but it was one of the most fun experiences of my life. It was also the most stressful, and literal blood, sweat, and tears were shed to get it done. But I couldn't be more proud. It's a film about someone who is very close to my heart, and it may not be worth millions or star JLaw, but I think for a budget of shoestrings and hot dogs, it's pretty damn good. I'd like to think I'm the female version of Ed Burns...or, ya know, someone just as cool but with a lot less money.

We've since signed with a film sales agent, and we're hoping to have our little film out there somewhere, maybe Netflix or on your next JetBlue flight. Either way, you can watch it now. So, go ahead, what are you waiting for?

 

I'm officially a triple threat: writer, director, producer. Just call me James Franco.

#seriouslycallmeFranco
Suz

It's Gonna Be Me

Hello, Sunshine

Are you tired of the *NSYNC memes about May? I am. But I can't resist this song.



I had a dream last night that I was hired as *NSYNC's personal assistant. I was working for a bunch of old boybanders, who lived in a big mansion together and still acted like young boybanders. And it was everything. EVERYTHING. Joey was snarky, Chris was ridiculous, Justin was kind of a twat, Lance was obsessed with social media, and JC was beautifully tortured. I'd like to imagine that's what they're like in real life. I've heard JT really is a twat. I might have dreamed about these gorgeous hunks of singing/dancing puppets because of all the memes and gifs floating around yesterday, or it could have been my obsession seeping into my unconscious.

I think it's the latter.

This happened. And I LOVE it.

I was in eighth grade at the height of the pop craze in 1999-2000 and was a hardcore *NSYNC fan. Suck it, BSB! My formative years were shaped by Chris Kirkpatrick's hair, Britney and Justin's relationship, and my undying love for JC, who is still at the top of my Freebie Five. It was a great time to be alive.

So, what is a girl with a boyband obsession and a lot of free time to do? Write fanfiction, obviously. I was into fandom before it was nerdy cool. Back then, it was just nerdy. AND I was coding my own website. Somewhere along the road, I lost my computer skills, but for real...a thirteen-year-old girl, who taught herself HTML code? I was crunk.

If you've got a few hours to spend reading the daydreams of an adolescent Suzanne, I highly suggest you check out the angelfire website I created. I also suggest you read it with alcohol. Goes down easier that way. It's probably the best *NSYNC fanfiction you'll ever read. Maybe the only *NSYNC fiction you'll ever read. Either way, you'll love it. This I promise you. 

#Crunkbaby

Suz