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C'est la vie

As we stood in a sporting goods store today buying a startling number of baseball-related items for our seven-year-old son (including a cup!!), another young man stood nearby, mulling over his own baseball-related purchases. He was maybe seventeen or eighteen ... with a body like a young Adonis and a face smooth and handsome.

For a moment, I was filled with mild regret that I spent my high school years dallying with scrawny "Theatre" people ... boys who were funny and creative, but rarely possessed six-pack abs and broad shoulders. I could have been the kind of girl who got swept up in a wild, fiery, purely physical relationship, but I ... didn't.

I never would have had the patience to sit in the stands cheering on a jock-boyfriend, or the keen dramatic skills to feign interest in whatever sport the boyfriend pursued. Instead, I spent a lot of time laughing and crying and running the gamut of adolescent emotions with a smart and talented group of people.

But man! Now that I'm middle-aged, I sometimes wish I had had just ONE hard-bodied eye-candy boyfriend!


May 8, 2005

I realized recently that the blond surfer I dated in my freshman year of college would be outraged to hear me say that I wish I'd had a hard-bodied eye-candy boyfriend. While he may have been hard-bodied and easy on the eyes ... he was never a valid 'boyfriend.' And he was no innocent high school love. In fact, he was the exact opposite of an innocent high school love.

Eh. (Shrugs.) I'm not sorry we met. He was an important on-ramp down the highway to True Love.