In the Long Kiss Goodnight, Geena Davis has this flash of recognition, which she thinks is because she was once engaged to the man in question but really they were mortal enemies. This happens to me all the time.
Not the mortal enemy part, just the inability to attach the proper emotion to recognition. Not only can I not place the person in terms of how I know him or her, I have no idea if we are friends or foes. Which is awkward. But could be wonderful.
Wouldn't it be great to be able to just ditch your baggage? I would run with it, but first I want to know what baggage I'm ditching and then it's too late. This happens with women mostly because they're the ones who can be mean. But I've lived here long enough so I could just not be recognizing someone I dated. Face it, some were not so memorable. And you can't say "you look so familiar" to such people because how insulting is that? Better to just act as though you're polite. Or in denial. Or rude. Or completely clueless and somewhat in need of a coffee and maybe a pumpkin cranberry muffin but I may be projecting.
I could totally use a pumpkin cranberry muffin right now.
The baggage I'd like to ditch at the moment is not about someone I may or may not have dated, it's about me. Every once in a while I have these quasi-tragic bouts of melancholy (picture me with back of hand held to forehead, lace hanky dangling from other hand). I can't get out of my own way. It's something I've accepted about myself for ages and I just want to take a spray bottle to the inside of my head and clear out those dust bunnies once and for all.
It doesn't fit with the rest of me. As I go along, putting together the puzzle, there are these few odd pieces that become more glaringly obvious as time goes on. They are from a different puzzle entirely, which is why they are so uncomfortable and look so strange. I can't seem to keep them off my card table, but at least I can focus on the pieces that ARE helpful and keep putting those together. Eventually, there will be no place for those aberrant pieces to hide.
I have no idea what this has to do with Geena Davis. Maybe if I could just go back to bed for a little while I could figure it all out. I'll come out if someone shows up with a pumpkin muffin.