Office by Alex Penny
It all began on a February day in 1970 -
And everything that's happened between then & now has brought me here, to this moment. How 'bout that.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Hello to everyone I don't know & no one I do.
wiser words…
(Source: thechibbsjermaine, via englishcupcakeicing)
that’s enuff
and then of course there was this totally gut wrenching movie, which i loved, and watched, repeatedly. when we bought the vhs, i wore the thing out tormenting myself. watching the entire movie over and over just so i could get to this scene and be really, really miserable with heartache.
just so.
holly, holly, holly…
(but hey - i understood about hollywood blacklisting and the story of the duke and duchess of windsor…and i guarantee you, otherwise, i wouldn’t have)
i just cannot stop myself.
1:43 - chills, man - chills.
and kris, backstage - what a babe - scroungy bearded manliness.
i’m off the deep edge - it’s gonna be a long night on youtube.
ohhellofullmoon
(via coolnerdyreader)
yes, this is my own copy. i bought it. i listen to it. i love it.
well no fucking wonder i had to have all the tragic romances in my life - i grew up IDOLIZING this movie, this music, and barbra and kris together in life AND death. oh the beautiful, beautiful, heartbreaking melodrama of it all. SOB!!!!!!!!!
oh my god - no fucking wonder.
did you catch the rainbow brite socks?
(Source: thethinnwhiteduke, via englishcupcakeicing)
“Hi Hollister” the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone line made my heart jump to my throat, as did his use of the nickname he’d given me.
“Hiyee” I always made an attempt to sound carefree.
“I wanted to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday. Am I?”
It was 12:02 a.m. on February 10, 1993.
“Yes, you are.” Forget cool. I was toast.
“Yay! I want to take you out to dinner for your birthday, okay?” as if I would say no.
And he did take me out - to a charming, achingly perfect, tiny Italian restaurant somewhere in downtown Santa Barbara. At a two-top, round table with obligatory red checkered tablecloth, drippy candles and dimmed lighting I sat, like Molly Ringwald’s Samantha in the very last scene out of Sixteen Candles, with my Southern California Jake Ryan.
“Go ahead, Samantha - make a wish” Jake encourages in the movie, as she stares down at her candle-lit birthday cake.
“But it already came true.” Samantha demures, in awe of her luck.
That night, at 11:59 a.m. the phone rang again.
“Hello?” the smile in my voice having sprung from my happy little heart, pretty sure of whose voice I was going to hear.
“And now, I wanted to be the last person to wish you a Happy Birthday. Am I?”
Good God, he was cute.
And do you know, that twenty-three year old boy, who went on to become a grown-up man and a husband (to someone else) and a father, has called or emailed me on almost every single birthday since, including the 42nd one I just celebrated a few months ago.
I wasn’t right about our romance being forever, but I was right about our connection; solid and worth the effort.
i just keep on writing…
ALL DAY!
