I'm at my grandfather's house, getting ready to graduate from high school. I'm wearing white because we had to for graduation. I'm searching for shoes I think, and my grandfather, father, mother, sister, and uncle are there. Suddenly my film professor and students are in the house, but the house has changed. We find out there is a bomb under the house. Another pressure sensitive one. We leave but then go back in to get the food for graduation. But I'm the only one packing it up and bringing it out to the back porch. I get frustrated with my need to always do the right thing, correctly, and alone. I hate feeling like I'm a type-A bitch with a stick up her ass. Someone comes around the corner of the house and looks at a movie poster display that's there. I inform them that there will not be a movie that day. I feel like an ass. This all correlates to real life more than I'd like to admit.
