How You Doin’ Blondie?


Damn That Beach In Greece

Sometimes I can hear a song so clearly in my head that I can actually hear the artist taking a breath on the downbeat. When I found myself staring at S. washing his car and began to feel that familiar, pathetic, need to have a man’s attention, I imagined this song queuing up in the background.

One Two Three Four
Tell me that you love me more
Sleepless long nights
That is what my youth was for

Old teenage hopes are alive at your door
Left you with nothing but they want some more

Oh, you’re changing your heart
Oh, You know who you are

Sweetheart bitterheart now I can tell you apart
Cosy and cold, put the horse before the cart

Those teenage hopes who have tears in their eyes
Too scared to own up to one little lie

Oh, you’re changing your heart
Oh, you know who you are

One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, or ten
Money can’t buy you back the love that you had then
One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, or ten
Money can’t buy you back the love that you had then

Oh, you’re changing your heart
Oh, you know who you are
Oh, you’re changing your heart
Oh, you know who you are
Oh, who you are

For the teenage boys
They’re breaking your heart
For the teenage boys
They’re breaking your heart

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Sweetheart, Bitterheart, Now I Can Tell You Apart
October 27, 2007, 1:49 pm
Filed under: Life, love, Men, relationships, sex, thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I remember sunbathing on the beach once, and the man I was with casually remarked that when he was a teenager, he never, in his wildest dreams could have imagined that he would ever be this successful. I remember making some vague comment in agreement and then rolling over onto my stomach. He then launched into this windy narrative about his long climb to the top [they always do] and I remember my mind wandering back to my teenage vision of the future. I remember my ultimate goal was to become a teacher, specifically so I could be home at a reasonable hour to have dinner on the table when my husband came home; and so that I could have 3 months off in the summer to spend with my 4 beautiful sons. It wasn’t until that moment, on that beach in Greece, that I realized that I had officially abandoned that idea.

I remember I became depressed at how delusional I was, how hopelessly naive my teenage dreams had been. I remember feeling so incredibly sad that I couldn’t physically move. I remember being a little scared at how suddenly the emotions came and how deeply affected I was by them. I knew my reaction to a simple little observation was irrational, but I just couldn’t shake the sheer and inexpressible sadness I felt. But I kept a sunny front and after a few days I was able to pretty much forget about it; eventually I was able to dismiss the incident altogether as too much sun and too much sangria.

But the other day I was organizing my receipts from my appointments with Dr. J, and I realized that I started seeing him about three weeks after I returned from that vacation to the beach.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that on that beach in Greece, I inadvertently discovered something. I think that it was at that moment, on that beach in Greece, that I first realized there was just something wrong, something big and looming that was just wrong,  just seriously, fundamentally wrong.