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Date of visit: November I don't know what the hell it is, but my god could he wield human faces like guns. In this romantic comedy by the director of The Silence of The Lambs, Jeff Daniels strangles a man with handcuffs half to death, then stabs and kills him.
Something Wild, The Mission, Hoosiers, Sky Bandits, – Siskel and Ebert Movie Reviews
Then, the Liotta Factor. Complete list of the films Guillermo del Toro has recommended on twitter. Click the 'Read notes' button to see his…. Something Wild. Something Daring. Something Dangerous. Director Jonathan Demme. Max Frye. Craig McKay. Tak Fujimoto.
Norma Moriceau. Studios Orion Pictures Religiosa Primitiva. Genres comedy romance crime. Yes, the soundtrack is great. And there's a fight scene with the death…. Three reasons: 1. Ray Liotta: underrated kicker of the silver screen. I would have gone to my 10 year reunion if The Feelies were playing. All the ordinary people that populate this world. I'm not just talking about your favourite movies though Never trust a white woman wearing a giant pendant of Africa.
Also Jeff Daniels and Melanie Griffith are Ally was the first date I went on. Maybe when I talked about the beginning of our relationship earlier, it seemed slow and sweet, well balanced. With her, my world slowed. I was fully present in a way I rarely am. But when we were apart, my sticky heart lodged itself in my throat. I lost weight, lived in my daydreams, and overwhelmed Dan with them. My adrenals went so haywire that for a couple of weeks, I thought I was pregnant.
I ran past the emotions about this, desperate to prove to Ally and Dan that I could make them feel safe, that I could love them both enough to never have to choose.
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I was racing to build something strong that consistently felt fragile. My life depended on it. But fierce doubt, a tightly-packed time bomb, eventually chased me down. Two weeks before Christmas, Dan and I walked to dinner by our house. As we sipped our beers, I started talking about the future. Maybe to fill space, maybe to toy with danger, I talked about us moving for me to attend grad school. I said that I felt ready to leave L. Maybe I could move to the desert.
SOMETHING WILD SILK SQUARE SCARF
After dinner, he dropped me off at the train. My body pulsed with the self-contained energy and ease of being alone with headphones in, barreling across the city. We had a game, then, of carting around our imaginary daughter. Roxy was a bitchy little fashionista, a seven-year-old power goth who perched on bar stools sucking down apple juice, her eyes constantly rolling back in her head at the trivial things adults did. We downed a couple more tequila shots, denying them of Roxy who sat between us. We joked that Roxy kept us honest.
Really, she made us mushy inside, in a way that felt both naughty and vapidly predictable. Something wild squirmed around in my chest, a band strung tight from my heart out along my collarbone. I ran outside. Because we were drunk, the conversation evaporated into the night air. We talked with friends and Ally smoked a cigarette.
Later, she leaned against a streetlight and I played with her hair. Our faces got close and the air between us sparked with a tugging lust. Though we never denoted off-limits conversation topics, we knew comparisons of Ally and Dan were definitely forbidden. Our relationship relied on that heap retaining its shadows.
In memory, I picture myself sobbing on the sidewalk there, but I think it was a couple of hours before I broke. The next day, I was quiet and still on the train home. Dan and I made dinner together, not talking much. When we got into bed, I choked into my pillow and told him for the first time ever that I think I may be gay; not bi, but gay. I climbed into a hole that week. I called every friend whose opinion I valued.
I wrote in my journal for hours. I barely spoke to Dan or Ally. I worried that the pressure I felt to break from dating men was essentialist or biphobic. Was it convention that was pushing me to choose? I obsessed over the question of certainty: why cause grief and pain unless I was undeniably sure? In this darkness, though, coming out felt light. Daily, I felt alternating elation, relief and dense sadness, mostly for a sense of time lost and prior lack of self-awareness. Grief for Dan never came in the storm I thought it would. When we met for brunch in July, I expected it to hit me.
We caught up, our smiles honest. He admitted things had been pretty bad for him, but had gotten easier. I offered to answer any questions he had. He agreed and then asked if it was hard to be with Ally, in another long-term relationship so soon.
I felt numb, then, trying to connect the joy and wholeness of my current relationship with his loss. This frustrated him. He did not regret our polyamory. He simply carried the pain of a breakup: the deep missing, the lonely recalibration. Maybe it would never come. I thought about the sorrowful letter my grandma wrote me after I came out, about her heart breaking for Dan.