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Santa Monica, CA, USA

Two decades ago, on Saturdays, I would go to the movies with my mother and occasionaly with my older dauthter, Stephanie.  In 2001, we walked down to the 3rd street promenade and, against my objection, saw Thelma and Louse.  When it ended, I felt like someone had punched me very hard.  I began to cry, uncontrolably.  Some time later, I realized that my life had been displayed in the movie.  Life just reacted to, not planned.