Alright, I've fought the urge to blog these past few weeks but I have to say...It is so therapeutic to me. I've considered going to straight journals and while that is nice and I have a few from before I submitted to what is "blogging", it's just too hard. I suck at it, it hurts my hand and it's more fun when everybody can read what you write! I mean, that's pathetic but true! Feedback is inspiring!
I'm such a loser.
But, I thought in honor of the holiday that is close approaching and the fact that my recent level of friendship with Steph has risen to new heights (only she and about four others will appreciate that), that I would write about a memory that I have with her.
It is my goal, for the record, to get my three other friends to develop a blog together and amongst regular stuff, re-write a bit of our history from different perspectives. San is always telling that I need to write a book about our crew and I know I should. Maybe this would get my creative juices flowin'! Right?
OK. I'm desperately trying to think of what year it was and I'm suspicious that it was 1993 but it could have been our senior year. I don't know for sure. SHE WILL KNOW..trust me. Steph's like an elephant when it comes to remembering.
I was hanging out with a long time friend of mine, Jeremy Lazzell, and we decided to invite Steph to join us for the night. Jeremy was HIGHLY enjoyable to do stuff with. VERY FUNNY...I can't really say anymore than that. You guys know.
So, I can't really remember what all we did at first, but the idea came to us to go to Tilton and hit a haunted house. I love Halloween and haunted houses and I thought this would be a total blast with the both of them.
Now, Just for the record, Steph and I had only been best friends at this point for a year or two. I knew her but I didn't really "KNOW" her. Not everything, like I do now! And, at the time, I didn't quite realize or accept that she was intensely terrified by all things Halloween and life-time trained to believe that holiday was to be rejected. (I'm not judging that belief...I just wasn't aware of it!)
She began to break this fact to us in our excitement that she wasn't really fond of haunted houses. That they scared her and she didn't really want to go. Now, Jer and I were chalking this up to just about everyone and how they feel about haunted houses. They can be scary. That's really their point. If a house wasn't haunted it would just be some building where you found dirty dishes. There must be some semblance of a ghost.
She then went on to explain that she didn't like that she felt trapped in them. She couldn't get out if she wanted to and yadda, yadda, yadda. Bottom Line is, we wanted to go...We wanted her to go...We were willing to lie to make it happen.
So, we told her that this particular haunted house had "trap doors". I laugh about it as I write it because it would seem that anyone could see the holes in that story. If there were trap doors aren't we back to just a regular ole' house again? We convinced her that if she needed to get out, there would be designated places for that to happen.
In our defense, we really thought that she would get into the house and enjoy herself. Sure, she might be afraid but the kind of afraid that makes you giggle and squeal in delight. Not the kind of afraid that makes you run in terror and desperation.
We waited in the line as Steph was outwardly fretting and tolerating my flirting when finally it was our time to head into the freak show that is Tilton's Haunted House. I will say at this point, that it was a bad haunted house. "Bad" in the sense that about 50 disgusting firemen and their friends got together with chainsaws and took the chance to cop a feel at whatever came through the door. *Shivers*
Regardless, I grabbed onto Jeremy who was the first through and began to run through the maze of rooms towards whatever Creepy Von Creeperson that would jump out next.
Sadly, I was not overly aware at what was going on with Steph behind me.
This means I was a selfish friend and I'm pretty sure I idled at selfishness when I was that age (and maybe older or maybe still!) and I figured that Steph would just expect that of me.
To my shock and horror (strangely NOT because of the haunted house), I looked back at my friend who had grabbed a "Freddy" character by the shoulders and was screaming, "Where's the trap doors? WHERE'S THE TRAP DOORS?"
He then transitioned into his regular John Smith type voice and said, "What?".
I couldn't believe it. She actually believed us. She was crying.
It was horrible and as soon as we exited through the final room and outside, she took off like a flash for the car, unwilling to say one word to either of us.
We had no idea.
I begged her to forgive me as she explained that she wasn't afraid like everyone else and in time she stopped hyperventilating.
I'm so glad she has decided to stay my friend despite that night and many hard times to follow. It's real loyalty when you stick by people that have hurt you and love them despite their faults.
(...and she's gotten me back a little through the years! Maybe one day she'll get honest about Senior Trip and the ditching!)
Happy Halloween, Steph! Thanks for not running through any trap doors out of our friendship.