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About blueeyedblonds

Every life has a story. This is mine.

The Sad Boy and The Sad Girl, the next part

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The Sad Boy sat slumped in the chair on the side of the room his leather jacket wrapped close around him. His sunglasses were on to hide his eyes. The tears flowing in an endless stream stained his chiseled cheeks. For hours he sat in emotional contemplation.

He was keeping vigil with The Sad Girl who had been in labor for twenty-two hours.

The distance in that small room was vast. They could not reach each other, both wrapped in their own torment.

The Sad Girl examined him through her pain. She wondered if he was crying for her or for himself.

She asked him once and never got a satisfactory answer.

And on that day, The Sad Girl gave The Sad Boy their first child. Their only daughter was born. She was an exact emotional replica of The Sad Boy.

The Sad Girl thought it was fitting. Because now The Sad Boy would know what it was like to deal with himself.

 

 

 

Although The Sad Boy and Girl saw no one, it seemed that everyone saw them. And most were not happy.

In the span of a few short hours, the news of the marriage proposal and acceptance threatened to turn into an international incident. It was broadcast through southern Italy and beyond to America.

It’s not coincidental the Italian Marconi and the American Bell were on the cutting edge of information technology. Gossip was and is a tradeable commodity

The Sad Girl had no words. Many times in her life, the words had failed her. The happiness was so great and so complex that the words would not form. They were not adequate. With The Sad Boy, she didn’t need words. He already knew. She only needed to feel.

The Sad Girl avoided all telephone calls from The Woman with a Rock in Her Shoe.

She stayed out late and woke up early. She blocked her ears when she was told that The Sad Boy was not for her. That The Sad Boy was a bad man. That it was impossible to think The Sad Boy loved her, that he would marry her. The Sad Boy loathed Americans. He was just playing with her heart.

She would have told The Sad Boy but their words were not the same. It took a while, but the day came when she told him.

The Woman with the Rock in Her Shoe threatened The Sad Girl with words too painful to type, until The Sad Girl relented and agreed to come home to wait for The Sad Boy to come and fetch her.

Time did what time so often does- it had stopped and when it started again, The Sad Boy and The Sad Girl found all the time they were allotted for that summer had passed.

And with a myriad of tears, The Sad Girl gave The Sad Boy her beloved teddy bear. She asked him to bring it back to her. For the first time their tears mingled with The Sad Boy wiping away The Sad Girls tears and she wiping away his.

The Sad Boy promised he would come and get her. He needed to procure a passport and a visa then he would come.

The Sad Girl knew that he would.

 

 

Goldilocks

The Sad Boy and The Sad Girl, part4

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If I lit a candle for every time I thought of you,
I’d set the world on fire.

She sat next to him on the lounge chair watching his green eyes as he followed the birds in the sky. She traced her fingers on his lips stained with strawberries and he looked at her.

The Sad Boy asked the Sad Girl what she wanted. She told him she wanted a memory. She told him which one and he smiled and gave it to her.

The Sad Boy never forgot. It was a thing they did. He would whisper in her ear “Do you remember…” and together they always did.

The Sad Girl was happy. She had ruined the Sad Boy for all other women. It would only be her name that he called. Her face that he would see, her memory that he would recall.

And he had ruined her too.

…In her dreams the Sad Girl could see. The happiness, the sadness, but she couldn’t see the end. Maybe because there wouldn’t be an end.

She could taste his strengths. She inhaled his weaknesses. With every touch, every kiss. And he had done the same.

The Sad Boy was no Prince Charming. He was an avenging Angel sent to guard the Sad Girl. And she, the Sad Girl was there to mend and guard his heart. He needed her and she needed him. What he didn’t have, she had. And what she didn’t have, he had.

Apart they had holes. Together, the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl were whole.

When she awoke, she knew that everything was as it was supposed to be.

She went outside in her pajamas to fetch her clothes from the line. The Sad Boy was there, just like he said he would be, talking and waiting for the Sad Girl. She smiled and held up a finger. She would only be a moment. And she was only a moment.

There was a threat of stormy weather in the August morning as they picked up the new day as if it was a continuation of the day before.

They wanted forever. Not because it was the wisest thing to do but because it was the only thing to do. And they were both bold enough to take it.

They drove along the coast and ended up on top of a mountain in a cul-de-sac that overlooked Vesuvius. It was the same spot that Pliny had sat many centuries before recording the great spectacle of the destruction of Pompeii.

As it began to downpour, they laughed and found shelter in the car to wait out the storm.

By the time the storm was through, the Sad Boy knew that there would be no breaching the castle walls that held the Sad Girl. If the Sad Girl had not succumbed to his charms, the Sad Boy knew that she had not succumbed to anyone else’s either. And he knew he could trust her with his heart, because she was like no other.

Goldilocks

The Sad Boy and The Sad Girl, part 3

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If you were the sun

I’d lie in your rays for eternity.

If you were the earth

I’d spend my life on the ground.

But you are only a man

So let me exist enfolded in your arms.

Time had stopped for the span of one afternoon. But now, the sun was sinking swiftly in the western sky. The Sad Boy and the Sad Girl reluctantly acknowledged that they needed to return.

Slowly they pedaled the boat. Hand in hand they walked up the mountain stopping every few feet just to look in to each others eyes. Their steps were slow although they knew the Sad Girl was expected to return.

They couldn’t go back to the world yet. They were just found and didn’t want to part. The bottom corner of the Sad Girl’s lip was a little swollen from too much sun, too much salt water and not enough kisses. When she pointed to her lip, the Sad Boy smiled and shook his head. He knew what to do. The Sad Girl already knew he did.

They stopped at a café. The Sad Boy said something to the barista then led the Sad Girl to a private garden with tables and chairs scattered under the trees. Drinks were served along with some ice for the Sad Girl’s tender lip.

They made plans- for the next day, for their life. It was only the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl. Nothing else mattered, for what was tinder without spark or spark without tinder? It’s only together that fire burns.

The Sad Girl heard a voice in the distance. The Sad Boy motioned to her- a finger covering his lip. She rolled her eyes at the sound. Reality, in the form of her brother-in-law, dared to intrude. Frantically he was asking if the Sad Girl and the Sad Boy had been seen. The barista’s answer was no. He had seen no one. The Sad Boy was never seen unless he wanted to be seen. The Sad Girl was happy to know that.

They finished their drinks. They both knew it was time to return the Sad Girl.

With a whispered kiss and plans for the next morning, the Sad Girl closed the car door then walked inside to be greeted by a frantic sister and brother-in-law.

They asked about her day not mentioning that they had been out looking for her. The Sad Girl told them she was getting married AND she was not returning home. The Sad Girl, the rock in the shoe, had suddenly turned into a diamond or a pearl in the space of an afternoon and it was left to her sister to inform their mother. Their mother would not be happy.  The Sad Girl did not care. She feigned sleepiness and retired for the evening telling her sister that she had plans for the next day.

She showered reluctantly. She didn’t want to wash off the smell of the Sad Boy on her skin. She could still feel the Sad Boy.

She laid her head on the pillow and whispered to God a thank you. It was her 24th birthday and the love of the Sad Boy was the best present she ever received.

All night he filled her dreams but when she went to reach for him, only her teddy bear was there.

Goldilocks

 

The Sad Boy and The Sad Girl, part 2

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Still no Lovelili so I will just continue…
“I don’t want to love you anymore…” the Sad Girl stated plainly as she looked into the Sad Boy’s stormy green eyes. But she knew she couldn’t stop, that she wouldn’t stop. And neither would he because love is not turned on and off like a water tap.
Either you love someone or you don’t. And if you truly love someone, you would never be able to stop loving them. Not here. Not in eternity. Because even though sometimes they hated each other, they loved each other even more.

…And when the Angels felt that sufficient time had passed, they dared to glance over their wings to see if, indeed, their match making duties had been successful. Quickly, they turned with a blush, for the things of men were not the things of Angels.
The kiss was still in progress. Time had stopped on that beautiful summer day. That’s what happens when two halves of the same soul reunite.

The kiss was everything. The kiss was everything to the Sad Boy. The kiss was everything to the Sad Girl. It was a question. It was an answer. It was finding something and then losing your self in it at the same time.

And with a laugh at a job well done, the Angels remembered that God told them to do one other thing. And they pulled two heavenly cords from beneath their wings.

With great joy, they began to tie the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl together with their heavenly string. The longer the kiss lasted, the more string they used until the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl were tightly bound to each other. From head to foot to hands to heart, they were bound together with an invisible string made of love that could not be broken.

And when the Angels reported back to God, He asked them if indeed the heavenly cord was secure because it would be repeatedly assaulted through out their life.
And what God joins together, no one must be able to part.

Dazed, for a great emotional storm had passed, the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl found peace and happiness as they continued to reside in each others arms.

Soon the August sun drove the kissing lovers back into the water to continue what was started on the beach. For the love was flowing from one to the other filling both the Sad Boy and the Sad Girl with its wonders.

The Sad Boy spoke the only words that he knew in English to the Sad Girl. “I Love You.” It was a statement.

And with her heart bursting, because it could not be true, the Sad Girl looked into the Sad Boy’s eyes and called him a fuckin liar. Those were the Sad Girl’s exact words. No more, no less. She could not be so fortunate. She was insecure. She did not feel worthy of such a love.

But the Sad Boy did not speak English. And he didn’t know what she had just said. And as insecure as the Sad Girl was, was how secure the Sad Boy was. Although she did not feel deserving of such a love, he did.

And the Sad Boy looked the Sad Girl in the eyes and began to hum the wedding march. As he did so, he removed the ring from his pinky finger. Picking up the girls hand, he motioned between the two of them. You and me forever was his question to the Sad Girl. And she shook her head yes while he placed the ring on her finger.

For better, for worse, till death do they part.

They sealed the bargain with a kiss.

 

Goldilocks

Happy 25th Anniversary Sad Boy

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Once a pound of time was weighing very heavily on a girl from New Jersey… She had already been through a suicide watch, graduated college with the Felician Sister’s seal of approval, worked two jobs, had her own car, but she was not loved. Not even by her parents.

She was beautiful and smart but terminally sad.
She was very sad. Every day she woke up and found no joy. Maybe here or there there was a bright spot, but it was like a cloud followed her.
She was chased by many men, but they were not right. They just wanted to sleep with her, but her heart was too guarded to let that happen.

In fact, at one point, her parents wanted to put her in a nunnery, just to get rid of her.
Her mother told her she was like a rock in her shoe. Annoying. A bother that she couldn’t wait to get rid of.

But what she didn’t know,  was that there was a little boy on the other side of the world that felt the same way as she did.

As pretty as she was, was how handsome as he was.

He too was on suicide watch. He tried to kill himself by smashing his car into a concrete wall. That’s how he got the scar on his nose.

His heart had been broken, chewed up then spit out and stomped on.
He swore off women. And never looked their way.

To him, the world was divided into two- men and f’in bitches. When he looked at a girl, he would imagine how they would break his heart. The female population chased him.

And he would look them up and down. See their charms. And say no. He knew they would break his heart.

His parents were very sad. They loved their son and wanted him to be happy. At all costs, they wanted him to be happy.

And his parents began to pray.

And one summer day, the sad girl got on an airplane. She had to breath. She had to get away. She wanted to run but she didn’t know where to run to. Any where, as long as it was far away from her parents and New Jersey. She never wanted to go home. Her mother opened a business and now she was expected to work for the woman with a rock in her shoe.

She had been invited to a wedding in Italy. So she packed her teddy bear and her cigarettes and went.

And proceeded to have culture shock.

She saw things, that others only dream of. She was on islands and on beaches. Museums and archeological sites. She ate things that came with 5 stars and glasses of wine.

And her sadness turned to listlessness. Because she finally figured out that you could never run away from yourself.
And problems knew how to dial a phone, unfortunately. And didn’t mind the cost of an international phone call.

And one day she was in the cathedral in Pompeii.

And she saw all her favorite saints draped in gold and diamonds and rubies and pearls.
And she saw letters and pictures, pleading with heaven for grace.

She loved Jesus and His Mother. But here she saw faith. The faith of thousands of lost people. Who needed something and petitioned the King for favors.

And the sad little girl fell to her knees and cried. She didn’t know what she needed or what she wanted. She needed help. And her tears rolling down her cheeks were her prayer.

And the next day, the sad little girl went to a wedding.

She threw on a dress that had long sleeves and a high collar, but no back. And she forgot her backless bra at home, so she had to go bra less with just her red stilettos and some lipstick and mascara.

The wedding started at 11 am. It was at a beautiful restaurant that over looked the Bay of Naples.
Still, she was listless. It was just how she was.
She would go outside and lean on the railing and smoke a cigarette and think. Because that’s what she did. Life was in front of her, but it seemed that it was out of her grasp.

And the hours passed. Finally, she noticed that whenever she went outside to smoke and think a sad boy came out soon afterwards to do the same thing.

She thought it was funny.

And the day turned into night. And with it came the sweltering heat of August.
And the sad girl started to sweat. Beads of perspiration were rolling down her bare back.
She sat up, to get her back off the upholstered chair. And she felt a breeze. A nice gentle breeze that cooled of her sweaty back. And she stretched so the breeze could go in between the folds of her dress.

And then she knew something was out of place. So she turned around and saw the sad boy. He was lounging on a chair a few feet away.
He had a Spanish fan and was fanning her back.

The sad girl smiled at the sad boy and he smiled back. Then she turned around.

And she promptly forgot about the sad boy until the end of the evening.

It was decided that the sad boy would take the sad girl to the beach the next day.

Okay, whatever, the sad girl agreed. She didn’t really care and neither did the sad boy.

The day dawned and with it the sad boy, who always kept his promises was waiting to take the sad girl to the beach. She overslept. But, he waited for her to get ready.

And he opened the door and tucked her in his car, And with a wave and a bored face they were off.

And he turned on a cassette, because they did not speak the same language. And the tape was the sad little girls favorite. And the sad little boy sang, except he couldn’t sing in English. And the sad little girl laughed and so did the sad little boy.

And the parked and walked down steps that had been built thousands of years before. And he would grab her hand because he was afraid she might fall. He would not let her go fast. She was in his care and he promised to look after her.

And they stopped to look at the view. The sun was shining and the water was sparkling and the beach was jammed packed. But the sad little boy knew what to do.

He rented a paddle boat. And popped the sad little girl in and they looked at each other for the first time.

And they paddled. The sad little girl didn’t care where, She was having fun. And so was he.
They ended up on a teeny tiny island that was deserted.

And they spread their towels and went swimming to cool off. Still they were laughing.

They went back to the beach and each layed on their respective towels to dry off in the sun.

And the sad little boy rolled over and kissed the sad little girl. The Angels turned their heads, for now their job was done.

 

Happy 25th Anniversary Sad Boy

Love, The Sad Girl

 

Goldilocks

Losin It Big Time

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Yesterday, I was in my local food store when I saw my friend Nanny. Beautiful Nanny, with her big brown eyes and svelte figure, looks about 70 but is actually much older. I hadn’t seen her since she stopped by in the fall. So I yelled over the cash registers “Nanny!” and waved my arm like an idiot so she would see me because I think Nanny is a bit hard of hearing after all those Sinatra concerts. And Nanny looks over to me with a quizzical expression on her face. “I mailed you something yesterday,” I said to her. But Nanny only smiled politely and said she would wait for it in the mail. Nanny didn’t recognize me. And it was such a sad moment there in the middle of the food store. I had heard that, and I quote, “Nanny’s losin it, big time” from an unnamed source, but I didn’t want to believe it.  Nanny, who loves me and my family, forgot. She did her best to make polite conversation with a person who was a stranger to her. She didn’t ask her usual question- “How is Princess Mena?” Because unbeknownst to Princess Mena, Nanny has had her on her prayer list for years. And that was, in fact, what was in the mail to Nanny- a copy of her acceptance into a school that Nanny had prayed with me for for years. She didn’t ask about The Boys or The Big Bad Wolf or when she was coming over for pizza night. She talked about her daughter as if I didn’t know her and her grandson as if I didn’t know him from when he was shorter than me. She forgot that she has wiped tears from my eyes and has enfolded me in her motherly embrace.

But as sad as it was for me, I was happy for Nanny because I think Nanny is happy to be at the end of her eventful life.

Nanny is a very easy person to love. She has a vibrant personality that has seen her through the ups and downs of an interesting life. The best thing about Nanny is that she shares the stories that have made up her life. And what a life she has lived! To look at Nanny, you might not expect that at one time she had a driver and a maid. When she tells you about curlers in her hair on the airplane back in the day “…Because you just didn’t step off the plane in ***** without looking like a top model.”  Or the poverty that she endured. Or the newspaper headlines. Or her adventures in Manhattan. Of her aversion to Islands. Her best decisions. Her worst failures. No subject is off limits with Nanny and she freely shares. Her favorite subject is her friendship with God and the miracles He has given her. We have had some great conversations.

I’ve met so many fascinating people. Some that I just know for the course of an evening or if I’m lucky, for longer.  Every person has a story. I’ve been honored to have listened to so many. One gentleman. who was sharing his experiences of the 1960’s and The Beatles coming to New York and sitting with dying Friends in the ’80’s told me I should write down the stories that I collect. Just leave out the names and share them with the world. Maybe I will one day.

Stories bring me to my original blog post.

Lovelily calls me last weekend to come over and visit her second grandchild, her first granddaughter, born a few days before,

I remember about twenty years ago when Lovelily laughed with joy and relief when I, eight months pregnant (!) told her I was just informed that I was having twin boys. But that’s another story.

A new person to add to our lives. So teeny tiny but already has a story started with her name as the title. She joins my three great nephews and two great nieces. And I will teach her to call me Great Auntie and kiss both cheeks like an Italian and tell her stories about when her Mom was a little girl and how great the ’80’s were. I can imagine all the relatives in Heaven rejoicing as another person is added to the leaves of our family tree. What story will you live Little One? What road will you walk? What talents will you have? Will you love your old Great Auntie? Of course she will! And hopefully as the years pass, she will laugh as she spreads the word that “Great Auntie is losin it!” And that she will figure out that Great Auntie lost it before she ever came into the picture 🙂

Goldilocks

 

Do Pigeons Have Feelings?

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A raccoon ate The Fish who resided in our pond last night. There is evidence of fish-guts on the rocks and there is not a fish to be seen this morning. Neither The Dog who lives in my house or his Little Girlfriend  were disturbed from their peaceful slumbers as a raccoon invaded the yard and then assassinated a dozen fish. But this morning, after a nice breakfast, they happily sniffed out and pointed to the spot where the fence had been breached, and the path the raccoon took to make his exit. The Dog was somber as he sniffed the fish-guts on the rock then looked into the water for a few seconds before walking away shaking his head. His Little Girlfriend was worried the birds might have been sacrificed to the raccoon as  it was a dreary morning and they were still in their nests. And The Big Bad Wolf had a tear in his eye when not one fish came up to eat the food he tossed into the water. Even the water flowers have gravitated back together again with no fish to move them here and there.

Which brings me to the title of this entry. Baby A likes to put on his very best serious face then randomly ask people if they think pigeons have feelings. It’s interesting that everyone takes the question seriously when he is trying to be humorous. He gets very thoughtful replies. I think he has a 100% “Yes. pigeons have feelings” response rate. When he asked me that question, I told him about the book The Secret Life of Plants by Peter Tompkins and Christopher Bird. https://www.google.com/#q=the+secret+life+of+plants  Written in 1973, it documents their experiments using plants and electrodes. Some plants  they would wish death on and the plants would die. Others they would bestow their love and kind wishes on and the plants would flourish.  It was an absolutely fascinating book. The plants can perceive your feelings and then respond to it. This must be why some people have green thumbs and others have black ones- who is happy working in the garden and who is annoyed every time they have to rake or water or mow the lawn. If you love the plants, they will love you back. Recently I watched this video on YouTube   . Using a computer program, they have translated the vibrations of the trees into musical notes. Trees and plants sing 🙂 Do you realize that the world is a giant art project complete with symphonies? Can you appreciate that the garden sings? Think about that. The garden sings. Does it mourn with us when we are sad too? When the trees shed their leaves to rest in the winter are they quiet? Are they singing the same song or is it perpetually new? So many questions, but not enough answers 🙂 And don’t even get me started on rocks >laugh<

 

So, let’s see how long before my lovely Lovelily shows up on her blog 🙂 Here Lovelily, I’ll give you your opening line-“I don’t know how I’m going to make my blog debut after my sister’s thoughtful posts…”

or maybe-

“It’s supposed to be a freakin fashion blog Goldilocks! FASHION! F-A-Shion. Woofs the heck did you do?”

🙂 xoxoxo

Goldilocks

On Sisters, Dogs and Fish

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So, I see my chatty Sister has been filling up the blog with her posts:) Wait until she reads 🙂 Yeah, Lovelily, in the immortal words of The Dog known as  Don Ciccio Spumoni “Woofsever.” She told me she didn’t quite have the words at the moment and that she was thinking in between the headache. I think one of the coolest things I have found out about my Oldest Sister is that she writes and always has. It’s nice to know that there is always something new to find out about people that you have known and loved your entire life.

So my Husband, The Big Bad Wolf, and my Sons- Nervous Breakdown Boy, Baby A and Baby B, have built me a beautiful fish pond 🙂 It has a cascading waterfall and rock bird baths and of course fish. It drives the dogs absolutely crazy! The Dog Cicc, spends his time on the ledge, in hunting position with his tail out and his nose a fraction of an inch away from the water trolling The Fish who reside in the pond. Last weekend, Baby B tipped him into the water where he happily swam about until we dragged his 90 pounds out, but don’t tell The Big Bad Wolf 🙂 Now when we are in the yard, The Dog just hangs over the ledge and doesn’t move. And Bambolina, The Dogs Little Girlfriend, sits and stalks the birds that have come to do their daily wing washing. Little Girlfriend has never met a bird that she didn’t want to eat. The backyard is no long a place for them to do their business, but a natural amusement park. The Big Bad Wolf just put water plants into the pond. The Fish keep rearranging them, pushing the here and pulling them there while The Dog watches and I sing “Three Little Fishies in an Itty Bitty Pool”. I didn’t know that fish feel compelled to rearrange their living space as well as people.

So how do we bring this all together into a fashion blog post? It beats me but maybe my Sister can figure it out

Goldilocks

A Deal’s a Deal

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And the camera zooms in on Monty Hall and his microphone. The costumed ladies in the crowd go wild.  Clearly the old girls owning double d’s don’t wear athletic support bras to hoist up the saggy girls.

They come with hopes and dreams and prayers. And when Monty approaches looking for a  baby spoon or a calculator, you can bet that some woman pulls out a baby spoon left on the bottom of her purse for the past decade. And Monty makes a deal. Maybe 50 bucks for that baby spoon with Juniors smutchz still on it. Or a hundred for the calculator.

But then he comes to the two Blue eyed Blond Sisters who clearly don’t sport double d’s. He asks to buy the love they have for each other. Love that has been through decades of thick and thin. Love that has wiped tears and held back arms that wanted to jump. Love that has sat through headaches and pushed strollers through the mall. Love that organizes weddings and lets you leave a dirty coffee pot. Love that laughs and screams and cries.  Love that never denies. Because love can’t ever deny.

And when Monty saw the amount of love the two sisters had he shook his head and said that he did not have enough to buy that kind of love.

And when Love makes a deal, It makes a deal. So…there is nothing you are going to do about it 🙂

Goldilocks

Woofs-Ever :)

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So, my Sister called me last night and said “We should do a blog. You know, like that girl who did her fashion blog and is now famous. We’re fashionable…”

You have to understand something, when we call each other, the conversation just continues exactly where we left it off when we hung up the phone.

Anyway, I think that she is fashionable. I am only fashionable by proxy because she taught me how to shop, has always opened her well stocked closet for my use and will pick out my clothes for me.

And so, our fashionable blog is born, but I don’t think it will be too much about fashion as about two blue eyed blond sisters of a certain age who perpetually have something to say to each other.

Goldilocks