Thursday, March 28, 2013

Thems the breaks.

When I was around twelve or so I remember watching a movie with my mom about spring break that she loved from her teenage years. This movie would join my heavy rotation of films that were playing on a loop at the time on HBO.
I would land on these gems whenever they were on and watch them in their entirety, no matter what. 

A few of the movies included:

Kramer vs. Kramer
American Graffiti
The Champ
Mommie Dearest
and mom's pick - Where the Boys Are

Where the Boys Are was a kitchy 60's movie about a group of co-eds (I love that word) who travel from the Midwest to Fort Lauderdale, Florida for Spring Break. I was living in New York at the time and dreamed of being one of the girls in the film who wore a bikini and got picked up on by boys.

I sang Connie Francis' title song to audition for
my high school glee club, "SHOWCASE."
Didn't get it.

Who knew just a few years later our family would make the move to Tampa, Florida and I wouldn't have to go where the boys were, the boys would all be getting on planes and coming to me. I would be prepping for spring break like a bride planning for her wedding day, counting down the days...



The boys are coming! THE BOYS ARE COMING!
My besties and I would cake on the makeup, spray on the Colors by Benetton perfume, make our hair as gigantic as possible and drive on down to Clearwater Beach to cruise the strip.
I'm sure all of those "gorgeous guys" appreciated Susanne and I
"being obnoxious" and "yelling" at them.
I now had a new problem living in this amazing land of spring break. The boys came to visit but they also had to go home, which led to a lot of unnecessary bawling, furious letter writing, and yelling by my father over outrageously high long-distance bills.

Poor John from Ohio.
Cute, but nothing great.
Many a torrid, dramatic love affair started late March only to end early April. I kind of felt like Marty from Grease, gathering a bunch of pen-pals from all over the US (and Australia too!) Of course these relationships fizzled out as quickly as they arrived, but it was fun imagining these strangers as my future-potential-husbands.
I was left holding a torch, a flame - sometimes a photo and a letter.
Thank God I was also left holding my diaries, well-documented with all of the lovesick, gory, pathetic details.
How depressing - gotta work 12-6, then back to school.
But at least Todd from Michigan loves me.
He "dressed great and actually seemed to be interested."
Good enough for me.



1 comment:

  1. All the 'what ifs' that came from Spring Break. You could still be saying today "This is my husband John. Nothing great, but he's nice."