Thursday, December 22, 2005

and if i live to be a centenarian, i just don't think i'll get over that one girl from college who dumped me for a veternarian

Ever since seeing Garden State last week, I've had the line from that Colin Hay song in my head: If I live to be a hundred and two, I just don't think I'll ever get over you. Over and over again. Singing it to myself out loud (if softly) while I'm walking around Cambridge, without especially caring who overhears. I have no idea what this is about. I do know that whatever other luggage may be knocking about in the cargo hold of my my head, I do not suffer from the burden of some Insurmountable Person From My Past.

(And can I just say, thank God: for if there is anything I've learned from second-hand observation of certain relationships, it is that you should never try to keep a relationship going with a person once you come to realize that the person, no matter your relationship goes, will always think that The Great Love of Their Life was actually someone who preceded you.*)

Anyway, as such, it is patently ludicrous for me to be walking around singing I just don't think I'll ever get over you. So then I changed the lyrics and suspect whatever melodic loss is regrettably compensated by greater biographical accuracy: If I live to be a hundred and twelve, I just don't think I'll ever get over myself.

(Speaking of which: Dear God, I can be such a drama queen sometimes that it truly astounds and slightly frightens me. That's all I'm saying.)

* Unless, I suppose, the same is true for you as well.

22 comments:

nina said...

If there is anything that I have learned from my observation of certain relationships is that there are no "shoulds," ever.

Relax. Great drama leads to great outcomes. I'm expecting great outcomes for you in 2006 and thereafter. And a funny post about your Christmas in Cambridge. Laugh-out-loud funny, you hear? (I know, I know, telling a person to be funny is like the kiss of death for humor. Still, you got three days. Start working on it.)

Anonymous said...

your new lyrics fit you like a glass slipper.

jeremy said...

Meanwhile, if there is anything that I have learned from Nina, it is that there is no better use of money than for Pottery Barn stools, except perhaps for European travel.

Who says I'm going to be in Cambridge for Xmas?

As for Anon 8:26: I know, I know.

Jenny said...

Where are you going? Your readers deserve to know.

Tonya said...

I hope you have a happy Christmas wherever it is that you end up spending the holiday.

And, in response to the post, I agree that one should run for the hills if one becomes involved with someone who is still pining for a lost love. Equally bad are relationships with people who are, um, still shopping for the next best thing.

jeremy said...

Tonya: The thing is, I know that someday you are going to be able to get over me. Even if it doesn't seem possible to you now. Hang in there, okay?

(And, seriously, destroy that videotape. I can understand why you would want to watch it over and over again, especially the part with the trapeze and flamethrower, but it doesn't do any good to live in the past with these things.)

Tonya said...

It's a good thing that I don't write an anonymous blog because if I did then I'd be so tempted to write about the soap opera that is my personal life. Of course, if I did . . . Jeremy, you would be all over my blog. And there'd be a link to that video.

Anonymous said...

OH STOP IT

Anonymous said...

You're aware, I'm sure, that "twelve" doesn't *actually* rhyme with "self."

Unless of course, its a country song.

Which seems unlikely, given that I don't remember there being any country songs on the Garden State Soundtrack.

Anonymous said...

This post is particularly amusing given you are still friends with every woman you have ever dated.

Anonymous said...

Is he?

jeremy said...

Anon 12:09pm: I am not going to get into my dating history on my weblog. However, that statement is untrue. One counterexample would be the cruel and unusual Amanda This, Amanda That.

Anonymous said...

A particularly disheartening version of the "I can't get over someone from my past" relationship is the one in which the person never ACTUALLY dated the supposed Great Love of Their Life. This sets the new person up against, not a fully fleshed and flawed human being, but an Idealized Uber-person.

Yes, all are better off not in a relationship like that...

Anonymous said...

If you're gonna sing in Cambridge, remember you can pick up extra cash if you stand still with cap in hand...neat way to mend that poor ol' heart.

Anonymous said...

reminds me of the time that I had the gospel choir part of "Cry Me a River" by Justin Timberlake stuck in my head. Except I had changed the lyrics to "Crimean" river.

Rhymes With Scrabble said...

Lately I've been partial to an electronic reimagining of a fairly old folk song, "Early One Morning," although I imagine it would be difficult for anyone who knows me to hear me singing "How could you use a poor maiden so?" and not dissolve into hysterical laughter. It's a great version of the song, though.

jeremy said...

Anon 12:08: 'Tis a poor lyricist who refuses to make use of slant rhymes. If the greatest lyricist of my generation, Freaktoastt J, wasn't willing to make rhymes far more oblique than "twelve" and "self", he'd still be working a cash register at a WinkyDog somewhere.

Absolut said...

This is interesting, I had a similar experience recently. I found myself repeating words from a song that were similar (I actually don't remember the specifics) in the sense that they were about some romantic heartbreak of sorts. And once I finally slowed down with the humming enough to listen to what I was repeating, I was really surprised. It made no sense right now. Yet I kept on going.. unlike you, I didn't bother to rewrite it, go figure.

I am not going to get into my dating history on my weblog.

Since when?;-)

jeremy said...

Tonya: To be sure, I agree that it is a good thing that I have never been lured into the idea of the anonymous blog, as I'm sure then I would be putting my full drama queenery on display for the world.

Anonymous said...

Dear Jeremy,
It's your drama queenery that we all love so much.
--E.A.

Anonymous said...

I have seen no evidence of this queenery.

jeremy said...

Anon 12:18am: I can only presume you don't know me.