Sunday, 12th February 1995
It's about three months since I first noticed a radical change in Persephone's behaviour: She is always shouting and laughing at top voice, she is trying to be clever and expert in all subjects, she is constantly asking for favours: “Type these poems for me” … “Tell your mother to sew this skirt of mine” … “Will you paint this picture for me?” … “Go to that public service and ask this or that” and so on. Since the beginning of the year she had been talking me into buying her a certain blouse, which costs 12,000 drachmas, as a present for her birthday -which was yesterday. Finally, when she realized I had no intention of spending so much money for her, she asked me to buy her a book of poems -and I did that.
I think she has lost her mind, yet she also seems to have become paradoxically popular lately: Until last Christmas she had no friends but me; now, however, she has friendly relations with lots of young people. Persa keeps mentioning names of old schoolmates whom, as she says, she meets on the road by chance and they become best friends at once. Moreover, she has started to believe that she is gorgeous and desirable and that men admire her beauty despite her 140 kilos. She is also sure she can charm any male with the poems she has been writing recently.
The greatest mystery of all, Persephone's 21st birthday party yesterday: First of all, she didn't want me to come at the same time as her other friends. She suggested I should come the next day “so that we can be alone”. I avoided giving her a definitive answer, so she asked me to phone her before deciding. Finally, seeing I hadn't phoned her till yesterday afternoon, she called me at about 4:00 pm and asked me whether I intended to come or not; then she commented jokingly: “Those who don't bring an expensive present, won't come in!”
As soon as I arrived at Persa's yesterday evening, I was astonished to see there were about thirty guests there. All of them seemed to be ordinary persons, while there were also some “divas” – who normally wouldn't deign to have a look at an obese woman like Persa. Her mother, Mrs Daphne, greeted me frigidly, turning her face away. In the process, Persephone showed me in and tricked me into sitting at a specific place: She took two chairs, making me believe she intended to sit near me, and we approached a group of three girls. As soon as I made myself comfortable, Persa stood up and walked away. To my surprise, the girls -all three a lot younger than me- started chatting with me quickly and eagerly. I am not used to such politeness...
At a moment I noticed my friend was dallying with a handsome blond man who, instead of mocking or spitting on her (like it usually happens when an ugly woman dares look at a good-looking man), he was extremely tactful to her.
“I know how to seduce you! With a carnation!” joked Persa, rather foolishly.
“Not with the initiation, with a carnation!” another guy joked and I wondered: Initiation? What kind of initiation?
During the whole celebration, Persa hardly talked to me ‒ in fact she avoided even to come near me. Many times I noticed impatient looks all around me; everybody hoped I would hit the road soon, but I persevered heroically till the end, when there were only four guests left. At a moment I heard Mrs Daphne ask her daughter: “Is Yvonne still here?”. Have I spoilt the party or what? Finally, when the time came for me to leave, I was the only one Persephone didn't see out...
So, what was that? Was it just a birthday party or a network assembly? I suspect that, turning 21, my good friend officially joined some network of great calibre ‒ as her father's daughter: he is an illiterate, neurotic, rude boor, yet he knows lots of wealthy, educated and powerful people. In all probability, Persa was informed about the network a few months ago -which explains the radical change in her behaviour ever since.
And then I wonder why I don't have any friends! I don't belong to any network; I am not a member of any political club; I am not a disciple of any cult -even if I have often tried to be one! How could I ever have friends? And they always make me think I am an unsociable, stupid, boring misfit. This is what they all have been doing to me during my whole life. How satanic they all are -venal, dirty, evil -this is what they all are...
Thursday, 30th March 1995
Having finished work this afternoon, I was walking along Academy Avenue to the bus terminus, when I suddenly saw Persephone and her mother just a few metres away, waving at me happily! They looked thrilled to see me, they ran towards me at once and I could do nothing to avoid them. Pretty soon I had to endure complaints about my disappearance, ending up to “All those years I've been nothing but the little one you deigned to keep company with, just because nobody else wanted to be your friend!” – at this point Persa almost burst into tears. Then I had to explain to her that what had put me off her during the last five months was a negative change in her overall behaviour.
“You were arrogant, obtrusive and impetuous, probably because something has changed in your life,” I went on.
“My life is shit, as always, Yvonne!” she retorted at once.
Indeed, the Persephone standing before me now was the reserved and quiet girl I once knew -and I told her so.
“You prefer me like this?” she said bitterly.
“What about all those persons I saw in your birthday party?” I asked then.
“I just wanted my house to be full of people that evening!” she answered.
Is it really so easy to find thirty persons eager to come to your house in a particular evening? I wondered.
Anyway, feeling happy that the old, modest and reasonable Persephone had returned, I accepted to meet her in a cafeteria in Glyfada on Sunday, so as to sort things out.
Sunday, 2nd April 1995
At about 8:00 o' clock in the evening Persa and I met in the cafeteria “Venezia” in Glyfada. She looked friendly, pliant and understanding; once again she assured me nothing special had happened to her lately; as about those persons in her birthday party, she said she had never seen them before and she would never see any of them in the future. She also apologized for what she had told me three days before in Athens, that I deigned to keep company with her just because nobody else wanted to be my friend. She sounded calm, reasonable and sincere, and we renewed our friendship spontaneously.
Nevertheless, at a moment Persephone made another complaint to me: “You never say anything to me, Yvonne; you never talk about yourself, whereas I have told you everything about me. From now on, I would like you to tell me more about yourself!”. I promised to do so, yet I wonder: I had the impression of being already quite trustful to Persa; in fact, if there is someone to whom I confide almost everything, this is Persa. I have even spoken to her about my lucid dreams and psychic experiences: ''Do you have any idea what you are telling me now?'' she had exclaimed in astonishment. So? What else does she expect to hear from me?
Saturday, 8th April 1995
It is early in the morning and I am in a cheerful mood; I go downstairs to see my sister -and who do I find there? Apart from Alice's close friends, Milena and Despina, Dimitri Papayannis is also present! I am dumbfounded, since I would never imagine Dimitri has any dealings with Alice, however I join the party and I soon find out the following: Dimitri is dallying with Alice, but she wants him to get off with short and ugly Despina! I can hardly believe my own eyes, I drop from the clouds! Until yesterday I kept on flirting Dimitri, my sister knew about that but I had no idea what was going on behind my back! As far as I can see, the bloke is willing to go steady with any woman but me! As about my sweet sister, she has entirely ignored my feelings and decided to act as a match-maker between Dimitri and her insignificant friend, as if I didn't even exist!
I get very angry, I run upstairs and confide all my complaints to mum. She goes downstairs immediately and talks to Alice ‒ which means everybody gets wind of the situation. Right after, Alice comes upstairs and wants a word with me.
“What's the matter?” she asks provocatively.
“What's the matter? You ask what's the matter?” I start shouting. “I'll tell you what's the matter: You never care about me, you never
give a dime about how I feel! You always invite people at your home, people I know too, but you never invite me, although you know I spend hours and hours alone! And now, while you know I like Dimitri, you act as a match-maker between him and your friend!”
“So, you have finally understood what our relationship is like and it drives you crazy!” she replies enigmatically.
Later, in the afternoon, here comes Alice and takes me for a coffee to Milena's cafeteria at Karaiskaki Square. Feeling rather guilty about our quarrel, I accept the invitation smiling foolishly, while Alice makes a wry face. As we are walking up the avenue to the square, she doesn't lose an opportunity to express her contempt for me: “You will go mad soon, because you can't find a man! By the time you are 35, you will be completely mad!” she tells me with a cunning smile on her face.
There is a big party of friends waiting for us in the cafeteria; I can't say they are cool to me ‒ at least they are not cooler than usual. Yet, there is something: A young woman has brought her seven-month-old baby, a nice and smiling boy, and everybody takes him in their lap. However, any time I try to hold him, his concerned mother hastens to take him off my hands at once!
It takes me a few moments to remember: My sister Chryssa reacted exactly in the same way when she visited us the other day, together with her husband and her baby boy! What's the matter with all hens and they don't want me to touch their brood? Are they afraid or what?
The essence of existence: In this world, all beings are enemies. One way or another, they all try to extinguish each other. This is what all living creatures live for. “Friends” are temporary allies against a common enemy or adversities. As soon as the common enemy or adversities cease to exist, masks are thrown off. Friendship gradually becomes contempt, abhorrence, hatred.
You never know what is hidden behind a sweet smile. You never know what they really want from you. You don't know where they belong to, you don't know whom they answer to. Everybody looks nice, until you disobey. Then, smiles become screams of attack. Don't ever confide in anyone. As a rule, you always regret it. Don't you?
Saturday, 15 April 1995
New hopes: Themis, the aerobics instructor, has invited the whole class to a restaurant tomorrow night! Needless to say, I will join the party and I already wonder what I could do to catch his attention...
Finally, I decide to perform a simple magic ritual I have found in a book: I light two green candles and meditate on Themis' love for ten minutes. Then I take a potato, I cut it in half and stick twelve pins on it -the number of pins must be the same as the number of letters in Themis' christian name: Themistocles. Then I squeeze the two halves together and tie them up with a red ribbon. Finally, I throw the potato in fire. Now, all I can do is wait...
Sunday, 16th April 1995
The critical night has come! I meet Mandy at 8:30 pm, we get in her car and we leave for the restaurant “Rooster” in Verkiza. I am in my best togs and I feel happy and very optimistic. As soon as we arrive there, I see the party consists of more than twenty people. I am excited at the thought of the great time we are going to have tonight. Maybe this is my night, I think.
The result? Naught! All men seem to be enchanted by Mandy, especially Themis! As about me, at a moment someone speaks up and says he remembers me from elementary school ‒ so, my age is revealed before everybody! Later on, Themis suggests our going on an excursion on May Day and all the married hens (who, as usual, have formed a ring around him) hasten to enter themselves for it.
Conclusion: From now on Themis is not only uninterested in me but he also ignores me completely! A week later I will repeat the magic ritual -in vain; I could as well say the situation is getting worse and worse: Now Themis is courting all women in our class except me, especially when I am present! He is flirting everyone but me! He even arranges outings or day trips with them in such an ostentatious manner that I -as well as the whole gym- can hear everything; needless to say, I am never given the chance to be a member of that enviable party...
Strange May Day, 1995
Themis has gone on an excursion with his “harem”. Naturally, I was not invited and I'm spending the day at home since I haven't had a phone call from anyone, not even for a coffee in Glyfada. Suddenly, at 5:00 pm, the telephone rings. It is Mrs Daphne, Persa's mother, and she asks me to come and keep company to her daughter urgently. Then, Persephone herself talks to me and says I must go and meet her at her place at once, because “there is a very serious reason”.
Arriving at Persa's, she seems to be kinda strange and secretive. At first I fear she has relapsed, but no: She neither overreacts nor shows off, she just looks drowsy and sluggish. Her father is at his desk, looking at some bills; he stays taciturn but he is obviously vexed. Then, Mrs Daphne takes me aside and explains to me, in a low voice, that Persephone has just taken about ten sleeping pills so as to kill herself! I am astounded and worried; I thought Persa had overcome such problems long ago ‒ it is not the first time she has attempted something like this. Fortunately, the pills were not strong enough and she got away with some drowsiness.
We leave at once and we go to Glyfada for a coffee. “Be careful or I might fall down!” she jokes as we are walking along Metaxa Avenue.
“I was feeling desperate this afternoon; I was choking with negative thoughts, I felt so bad that I lost control and smashed the window pane with my hand! Right after, I took the pills!” she confides to me as soon as we sit at a seaside café.
“But why?” I ask to know, since till that moment she hasn't mentioned any reason for attempting suicide.
“There are some things about me you don't know,” she replies enigmatically.
In the process I try -and manage- to console her and put her off any further thoughts of self-destruction. “Suicide is no solution,” I tell her. “Anyway, we can't be sure whether death is really the end, and we don't know what awaits us after...”
Saturday, 19th May 1995
About two months ago, as I was returning from work by bus, I bumped into Louise, my old friend. We talked about the old times, we made it up, and we meet quite often ever since. She is married to Nondas now, she has an eighteen-month-old son, whose name is Manolis, and she is pregnant to a girl.
I like Louise because she is a cheerful, talkative and extrovert person. She invites me to her place two or three times a week and every time she wants kisses and hugs -as if we hadn't met for ages. We spend hours and hours discussing various subjects and we have a very nice time together, we are ideologically compatible I'd say. Moreover, she considers me a member of the family, like a sister, she says – maybe because she has no other friends now; she no longer sees all those persons she once hanged out with, probably because of her family obligations: Louise is a wife and mother now, she has no time for outings and excursions.
“Really, Yvonne, you are the most sincere and unselfish person I have ever met,” she told me this evening, when I visited her. Then I made so bold as to propose my being godmother to her baby daughter, who will be born in a few moths. “Thanks, Yvonne, but I have already arranged that with Martha, one of my colleagues; I can't go back on my promise now,” she replied fast. “As about the third child I intend to have in the future, I have already promised that to Nicolas, another colleague!” she went on hastily. Her flat refusal made me think for a while but I guess it's anybody's right to choose the godmothers of their children...
Friday, 2nd June 1995
My good friend Louise has often asked me to visit her at the law office she works in as a secretary, so as to introduce me to Peter, one of the lawyers. “He is a good and sensible person; you two could match together,” she says smiling.
I decided to drop in on her early this morning, before going to work. At first I was flabbergasted when I saw how big the company she works for is: Three storeys full of offices and lots of people coming and going. Then, I was disappointed to find out that the would-be groom is a chubby, bald guy with fat cheeks and short legs -exactly the type I h
ave told Louise I dislike. “But look how big muscles he has!” insisted my friend, who probably considers fat as “muscles”.
It didn't take Louise long to understand I am not interested in that guy, so she started introducing me to some other lawyers, all of whom, paradoxically, were as fat and short as Peter. “This is my friend Yvonne, who is an artist and a writer,” she kept saying in a rather ostentatious manner, and I had to shake hands and smile to each one of them. Then, very cheerfully and eagerly, she took me to various offices on all three storeys, where I had to shake hands with lots of surprised people I had never seen before and I -in all likelihood- I will never see again.
After a while we returned to Louise's office at last; a little later, a new person came in: it was a young lawyer who, unlike the others, was slender, good-looking and agreeable. I let know my friend I liked him but, strangely enough, she showed no willingness to introduce me to him. “He is six years younger than you!” she pointed out. However I insisted, so my friend considered it right to begin a rather provocative conversation with me:
“So, Yvonne, you are a talented author and you write novels! How many of them have you had published?” she asked me loudly, making sure everybody could hear.
“Only one, years ago,” I replied in a low voice.
“Only one? Who paid for that, you or the publisher?”
“I paid for it, of course; publishers don't support unrecognized writers” I hastened to explain, while I was already feeling uncomfortable.
“And why haven't you published anything else?”
“It is not so simple; paying is not enough, connections are also essential; without backstairs influence no publisher pays any attention,” I answered and regreted it immediately, as I knew I had said too much already.
“Correct, public relations are necessary too... yet, you are also an artist, aren't you?”
I answered in the affirmative and Louise went on undaunted:
“Have you ever participated in a painting exhibition?”
“No, I have never thought of anything like that; besides, neither this is so simple,” I replied and the conversation went on in the same pattern for a few more minutes.
In the evening Louise phoned and informed me that the young man I liked had come into her office once again later, but all he did was laugh up his sleeve before her. “Nondas told me the guy was making fun of us because we were talking nonsense,” she concluded. I said nothing but I do agree with Nondas...
Thursday, 8th June 1995
In spite of the above fiasco, I agreed to visit Louise in her office once again this morning, for the same purpose. She introduced me to three plump and gauky guys as an author and an artist, then we did the round of the offices once again, I had to shake hands and smiles with all those astonished people, once again we arrested everybody's attention.
I was feeling frustrated when I finally noticed that a tall, blond, blue-eyed lawyer was standing at the next desk and he was giving me the glad eye. I flirted him back for a few moments, then I let know Louise discreetly. “Oh, this is assistant of John Comnenos, one of the most important lawyers in Greece,” she informed me and right after she hastened to take me down a peg or two: “He is also a moron, an idiot!” she added contemptuously. Next moment, the young man left the office.
I don't intend to pay another visit to Louise in her office again; I can see there is no reason, besides it occurs to me I have made a fool of myself for nothing. Naturally, I don't question Louise's good intentions; on the contrary, she is the only friend of mine who supports me in deed...
Wednesday, 21st June 1995
Yesterday afternoon I saw Dimitri in the gym. We hardly did any bodybuilding; he spent all my time confessing to me his passionate love for Mandy. As about Despina, he needs her only for sex, he said. In the end, he made clear he wanted me to invite him to my birthday party today, so that he could meet Mandy.
… And this is what I eventually did! Anyway, seldom do I have the opportunity to celebrate my birthday in the company of friends. Persephone, Mandy and Dimitri came and wished me to live to be a hundred. A little later, my sister turned up as well. We listened to pop and rock music, we chatted and laughed till late at night. Mandy hardly paid any attention to Dimitri, but in overall it was a pleasant and joyful evening for all of us.
Thursday, 29th June 1995
As soon as I arrived at the gym this afternoon, I noticed a white card on the reception desk saying “Massage from Themis. Tel 96.....” in big, capital letters. I could hardly believe my eyes. What shall I do now? Call him and ask ''how much is it?'' I wondered bitterly. At that point I begin to quit on Themis...
Pretty soon all the married women in our aerobics class will be his regular clients and one of them -a swarthy forty-year-old widow with two children will go steady with him. It seems she is the most talented of all in massage...
When I express my wonder about all the above to Louise, Nondas listens carefully and says: “Why are you so surprised, Yvonne? What do you expect from such persons -gymnasts, dancers, models and the like? There's no need to see or hear much about them!”. Right; I guess he is right...
Thursday, 20th July 1995
It's been two months that Mandy and I have been discussing our going on an organized trip to Corfu. Having, finally, reassured squeamish Mandy that we won't be cut off on the island because of ships on strike or landing Italians, she visited me this afternoon, together with her mother, so as to give me the money for the reservation. Yet, I couldn't stay with them for long, because I had already arranged to go to Louise's at 7:00.
When I returned home late at night, I was astounded to hear eventually Mandy didn't leave the money for the trip because her mother convinced her, at the last moment, that if we two go on holidays without being escorted by a man, we will be raped! They are inviting me to a week of vacations in their cottage in Amarynthos instead. I don't like this, but I don't have another alternative: Tomorrow is the last day to make a reservation for the trip to Corfu, I am not in the mood of going alone and it's too late for me to find another companion. So, I say farewell to the trip to beautiful Corfu! Gosh, what a stupid being Mandy is!
Tuesday, 25th July 1995
On another attempt to develop my social life, about a month ago I answered to a classified ad for correspondence and friendship, placed by the 25-year-old Denia Chrysanthou. I had almost forgotten about it until yesterday afternoon, when she called me and we arranged to meet in the centre of Athens this evening.
At first I was kinda circumspect, yet I found out soon that Denia is a quiet and reasonable woman. She is square-faced with curly hair, short and skinny, and she makes an impression of being a very harassed person. She was born in Patras, she has an older sister and a younger brother, her parents were too poor to bring up three children, so the girls were raised by their grandmother. She has been in Athens for four years, she lives with an aunt of hers but she isn't pleased and she wants to change address. She hasn't been able to find a permanent job so far, so she has to change jobs all the time – in two words, she is always under steam. Nevertheless, we had a nice time together, she asked to meet me again and I agreed with pleasure. I intend to call her as soon as I come back from my holidays in Amarynthos.
Wednesday, 26th July 1995
After my own initiative to call him, Dimitri Papayannis and I met in Glyfada this evening. We went to the seaside cafeteria “Cataralla”; the Mexican-style environment is fantastic, full of rocky formations, small waterfalls and gurgling rivers. Dimitri proved to be a very interesting interlocutor, we stayed almost three hours together and we discussed lots of diverse subjects. He even talked to me about his past love affairs and disappointments; he also gave me the impression he were getting over Mandy. I think we are well-matched and I am beginning to hope...
Tuesday, 1st August 1995
Since last Wednesday I have been in Mandy's cottage in Amarynthos, on the island of Euboea, together with her parents and grandparents. Dur
ing the first two days my friend seemed to be so displeased with my presence that she even avoided talking to me – not that she has ever been communicative...
Anyway, it didn't take me long to find out she is a wet blanket only when she is with me: For example, whenever we two go to Kavouri for a swim, she barely utters a word, she stays in the water taciturn for five minutes, and then she comes out hastily, as if she were chased by sharks. On the contrary, when we are in the company of her two cousins, Mandy becomes incredibly talkative, cheerful, spirited! When we all four go swimming at the nearby beach, I can hardly believe my eyes as I see her splashing around, laughing and diving for an hour at least -as if she were another person!
As for the rest, the week in Amarynthos has proved to be really boring, since we've spent most of our time playing cards or chatting with the old crocks. We have been to a disco only twice because, according to Mandy, it is dangerous for her grandparents to be alone at night. Great vacations and they are almost over...
Saturday, 5th August 1995
Once again I took the initiative to phone Dimitri and we arranged to meet in a much frequented cafeteria in Argyroupolis. I didn't like the environment so much, it was crowded and noisy. I told him about the fiasco of Corfu and my boring holidays in Euboea. “You know what? Your friend is a bit screwy,” he concluded smiling.
In overall we had a nice time, but soon he let it be understood that mental harmony is not enough to start a love affair. In the end, he even asked me if there was another friend of mine to introduce to him...
Chapter 8: Regression