#Andy Goldman
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
astrophiliaxx · 11 months ago
Text
Don't mind me....
I'm just waiting for any author to write a Mirandy fanfic with Andy having this hairstyle.
Tumblr media
107 notes · View notes
loch-ness-blogster · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Look what I got for christmas!! She’s a real cutie patootie :3
Baby Ann #6194
79 notes · View notes
glassprism · 24 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2012 restaged UK Tour trailer vs. 2024 restaged Vienna revival trailer
UK Tour cast: John Owen-Jones, Katie Hall, Simon Bailey, Angela M. Caesar, Andy Hockley, Simon Green, Elizabeth Marsh, Vincent Pirillo, Hannah Cadec Vienna revival cast: Anton Zetterholm, Lisanne Clémence Veeneman, Roy Goldman, Milica Jovanović, Thomas Sigwald, Rob Pelzer, Patricia Nessy, Greg Castiglioni, Laura May Croucher
158 notes · View notes
junedenim · 2 months ago
Text
2010
Tumblr media
beneath the boardwalk, part 8 (series masterlist)
glass in the park
warnings: the usual...angst, fluff, smut, etc.
word count: 13k
In late January, I bought a fur coat. I don't know if it's real or faux because I still haven't determined the difference in feeling between the authentic and the fake but I thrifted it so there's no guilt if it is made out of a poor chinchilla or something. It carried a dramatic feeling with it. I would wear it all the time. Sometimes, I would go out on walks just to wear it. I'd walk from my apartment to Grand Central and take the subway back just to make sure people saw it.
Alex returned to touring around the same time. While I was in a dirty slush-filled New York, Alex was travelling through the coastal cities of France. I knew it was cold there too but I'm sure it was much more conventionally beautiful and I envied him at times when I came home and my socks were soaked through.
We tried to talk on the phone daily, but time zones were difficult. We promised one another to always call on Saturday mornings for me so if we missed previous days in the week, I would always be able to tell him about my work week on Saturday.
Alex seemed to have everything and nothing going on. He'd play shows, get drunk or high, play ping-pong, take pictures of the Belem Tower, and watch Mighty Mouse.
I was busy. I liked it. My work would sometimes be straightforward office work, sometimes I'd visit places to review, sometimes they sent me home early to test products out, and sometimes they had me stay late to review products. I had a group of friends that I went out drinking with on Fridays and it was social drinking, not drinking to get drunk. One night, I ordered a Shirley Temple and laughed about it on the subway ride home at the thought of my younger self seeing me: a sober girl taking the subway home alone from the bar. It was nice to finally like myself. Or at least who I was becoming.
In my empty time, I wrote autobiographical things. I sometimes sent things to Alex but I found my writing became more introspective and it wasn't details I wanted to share with him. I was fearful of why I felt the need to hide it, but I didn't even feel much like reading it.
My friend, Fennel (he hates his name too), said it came from an overprotective biological need that all women must hide things from men, even if they are loving and trusting. I didn't think so. I told him I trusted Alex more than I trusted myself. He told me that was the issue.
Fennel cultivated weed on the balcony of his apartment in Murray Hill. He had a boyfriend named Kaka, who was a former Chippendales stripper and currently worked for Goldman Sachs. Sometimes, when he got drunk enough he'd reenact a routine. They were both in their early 40s, shared a dog named Rooster, and, still to this day, had the most luxurious apartment I have ever seen.
The building had a disheveled front but inside they had an open floor plan, a kitchen that was larger than my apartment, and the glorious aforementioned balcony. Fennel was a creative director at Condé Nast and had taken a liking to me because of my crooked teeth and what he called my "gemütlich" British accent.
I went over to their place nearly every week. They often had parties and I'd arrive in the early afternoon claiming to help them set up but I'd eat their fancy Bonilla a la Vista potato chips and play with Rooster. Their dinner parties were grandiloquent and their house parties were glamourously gauche.
One Sunday, I went over early through Fennel's insistence on dressing me. It was Pygmalion in a way or maybe I was the Edie Sedgwick to his Andy Warhol (I said this to him once and he took great offence because Warhol slept with Edie and he had no intention of taking advantage of me) but I quite liked it. I felt like a living doll and through his higher-up position and wealth, he was able to obtain fabulous pieces that he let me keep.
I walked around barefoot in their apartment wearing a Yohji Yamamoto (Fennel insulted me for not knowing who that was) white dress that flowed with every step I took while discussing Alex, who they had yet to meet.
"I can't believe you've been with him since you were 18." Kaka marvelled at this fact every time we talked about Alex.
"We had some brief pauses in there but yeah. You guys have been together for over a decade."
Fennel chuckled. "We were both in our 30s. It's quite the difference."
I sat on their black leather couch and leaned my head on the back of it. They were both setting the table. I was relaxing. "Yeah but isn't it hard at any age?"
"Sure but if I was still with the same person I was with at 18...well, that was a woman so it wouldn't count," Fennel laughed.
"Are you going to marry him?" Kaka asked. He was a complete romantic who would often say how much he loved love.
"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if I ever want to get married."
"Independence?" Fennel questioned as he pulled out a wine bottle.
"Parents."
"Ah," he sighed.
"But I have a feeling they always hated each other. I've always loved Alex. Does that make me lovesick and annoying?" I turned my head to ask them.
"Yes, but it's admirable. You seemed to have picked the right one. Good looking, loyal, you talk about him so sweetly," Kaka praised.
"I sometimes wonder if he picked the right one." It wasn't a newfound concern. I always felt secure in my relationship with Alex, not so much in myself. Occasionally, the worry of whether he could do better than me peeked itself out, usually when he was away and I didn't have the physical reassurance.
"Hush!" Kaka told me. "Any woman is better than a man. Take it from me." He kissed me on my cheek and it was nice to feel so fabulous. Fennel let me keep the Yamamoto. I try it on whenever I feel insecure.
*
I got sick on Valentine's Day. I had been unscathed for too long and on the morning of Alex's return from Europe—Valencia, Spain to be specific—I woke up with the urge to vomit. So, I vomited. And when Alex arrived home, I was vomiting.
I heard his bag drop while I was keeling over the toilet. The clacking of his boots on our wood floors stopped at the tile of our bathroom as he said, "Jesus, are you okay?" He hesitated, surely disgusted, before kneeling on the floor beside me, rubbing my back.
I had emptied most of my stomach and was dry heaving mostly. I slumped against the wall, catching my breath. "Welcome home." I managed a faint smile and my sarcasm didn't cause any laughter from Alex.
His hand stroked my forearm. He still had his jacket on and I was in my pajamas. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I just woke up nauseated."
"Food poisoning?" He suggested as he stroked his thumb over my knee.
I shook my head. "No, no. I feel fine now."
I attempted to stand up but Alex held me down. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, yeah. I just need to lay down for a little." I slowly stood, reorienting myself.
Alex, still kneeling proposal-style, offered, "Alright. Do you want me to carry you?"
I laughed. "I can manage to walk five feet to the bedroom, Alex." I headed toward our unmade bed.
"I can manage to carry you five feet to the bedroom." He wanted to make sure I knew that.
I smiled and to placate his need to help I had him get me a glass of water. He returned, jacket- and shoeless, with my glass of water. I took a sip and placed it on the bedside table we found at the Grand Bazaar last December. Alex sat in front of me, taking my feet into his lap. "You think it's the flu?"
I shook my head and slumped back onto the pillows up against the headboard. "No, no. I feel fine and I don't have a fever."
"Hungover?" He smirked, poking fun.
"No," I mocked. "An upset stomach. I'm fine now. How have you been? How was the flight?"
"Fine," he quickly answered. "Did you eat anything this morning?"
I shook my head. "I'm fine," I insisted. "How are you?"
"Fine. Do you want me to get you something? Tea? Crackers?" He continued to pester.
"No. Can we talk about something else or else I might vomit on you?" I crossed my arms, frustrated with myself for ruining the morning, frustrated with him for continuing to ruin this reunion.
"I'm just concerned something might be wrong. Should we go to the doctor?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. I know my own body. It was just a little morning bug."
His eyes shot up and wide looking straight at me as if he had just gotten an electric shock. "Do you think you could be...?"
I took my feet off his lap, criss-crossing them. "Oh, god, I'm not pregnant. Calm down."
"You sure? When was your last...you know?" He moved his hand up and down in front of his stomach.
I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "Period? What are you? A 12-year-old boy, you can't say the word?"
He sat awkwardly, a nervous look on his face. "No, it's just, you know..."
"I don't know and I don't know where this sudden weird behavior of yours is coming from." I sipped on the water and rolled my eyes behind my closed lids.
He reached out to rub my knee again. It was becoming rather annoying like a fly pestering you. "I'm concerned. That's all. So? When was it?"
I shrugged. "Like a month ago. I don't know."
He was bug-eyed and staring into my soul. "Well, are you late?"
"I don't keep track of that stuff." It was probably laziness or maybe because I was on birth control. Granted, I wasn’t very regular with that anymore. I never liked taking it and Alex hadn’t been there for a month.
"You don't keep track!" He stood up, pacing like it was the 1950s and he was stuck in the hallway while I was giving birth.
"You don't even have a period." I crossed my arms and leaned further back into bed. I was tired. He must have been jet lagged too. Why weren’t we sleeping?
"Yeah, but I am having sex with you."
"We last had sex a month ago. I'm not pregnant."
"And have you had a period since?"
I sighed. "No."
He exhaled and his head fell to his chest. He looked like my father. His head slumped after my mother disappointed him. It terrified me. Like I had done something wrong by not shedding my uterine lining. I didn't feel pregnant. Alex's concern made me concerned but I was more scared by the way his head sank.
"Should I go buy a test?" I asked. I didn't feel like fighting that I wasn't. I got an eerie feeling like I was overhearing my parents fight but I had suddenly body swapped with my mother. It felt like some trust had snapped in between Alex and me. For him, he'll say it wasn't and that it was based solely on concern. I thought otherwise. Like his paranoia had overtaken him.
"I'll go," he offered.
I shook my head and went to my dresser for a change of clothes. "No, it's fine." It's wicked that in my mind I held more worry over someone catching Alex Turner with a pregnancy test than actually being pregnant.
I threw the fur coat on and made my way to the nearby CVS. I had never bought one before. I don't know if I thought I ever would but I suppose I imagined it over different circumstances—a happy one, maybe with someone beside me with equal excitement. I bought a tube of toothpaste and a bag of Cheetos. I still had vomit on my breath.
Alex was sitting on the couch when I returned. His fingers were tapping the armrest and he had the TV on The View but he held a locked stare with the front door, meeting my eyes as I walked in.
I tossed the plastic bag on the coffee table and collapsed on the couch beside him. "I don't have to pee."
"Okay."
I grabbed the remote sitting between us and began to flip channels. Not much of anything good was on that early. I felt Alex staring at me but he didn't speak so I didn't speak. I landed on Notting Hill. "I hate this movie," I said just to have something to say.
He didn't say anything. Not even a Hugh Grant joke.
A half-hour passed in silence beside the movie before I stood up, dug the box out, and went to the bathroom. Not a word from Alex. I slammed the bathroom door shut.
I fumbled with the test for a while, struggling to open the box's lid. I wondered if Alex didn't join me in the bathroom because he thought I needed privacy or because he was upset. I think he was mostly just a scared little boy.
He felt so little to me in that moment and not in the way I loved. He was small and made my blood boil, even if I couldn't fully blame him for his concern. But his silence bugged me. His impassive form on the couch, a refusal to move or communicate. He had a habit of getting in his own head and barring entry. He'd say it was his personality. I'd say it was immaturity.
I took the test and waited for the results to appear alone in the bathroom. Negative, as expected. Still, I was left with uncertainty about what to do. I was mad at him but I didn't want to yell. I was relieved but I didn't want to celebrate. I was left where he was: silence.
Alex was still where I had left him. I put the test on the coffee table and sat down beside him, the last 10 minutes of Notting Hill playing. But he didn't move to look at it. His head turned to me instead. He was reading my face rather than the test. I stayed neutral and stared onward, refusing his enticing gaze.
"I'm sorry if I made you..." He hadn't fully grasped what I was thinking. I tend to think men and women are mostly the same but I find our biological difference is showcased in those times of stress. "It's negative. Right?"
I nodded, staring at Julia Roberts, arms crossed. "Mhmm."
He scooted closer to me. "Jane." His hand landed on my sweatpants-covered thigh and my eyes decided to finally snap over to him, small, tiny, scared little boy Alex. "I would've..."
"What?"
He looked at me as if he didn't expect a reaction from me. His expression was stunned and his hand stilled. "I don't know." You brought his hand up to his forehead, pushing his long strands back over his head. He took a deep breath. "This whole morning has felt like whiplash."
I scoffed, "Yeah." My head turned away from him. I was battered with the feeling of numbness. In the past, I think I would've cried. Or yelled. Now, I felt indifferent. I didn't know how to feel about that either.
"Have I ruined Valentine's Day?" He asked in an attempt to make me laugh.
I shut off the TV and stood up. "Yeah." I walked away to the bedroom. Alex stayed out in the living room.
When I went out to the kitchen, Alex was asleep on the couch. I made as much noise in the kitchen as possible to wake him up. I knew he was jet lagged and tired but I was a scorned woman.
I started the tea kettle and turned around to see a yawning Alex. "Do you want tea?" I offered.
He shook his head and placed his hands on the back of a chair. "I'm sorry for being an asshole." I turned away, not particularly interested in looking at him, instead I searched for a mug. "I suppose I have a habit of that. But I figured we could go out tonight. Go to a pub. Get some drinks."
Alex smiled, proud of himself for upholding a minimal tradition in my eyes. "I have plans tonight."
I didn't expect him to roll over and die. "Oh. Okay." He sat down on one of the stools and said nothing else.
There was no fight in him, meaning I had to be the one to fight. "Fennel and Kaka are having a party. I told them we'd go."
"That'll be fun.” He sent me a complacent smile. “I'll finally get to meet them."
I smiled back just as limitingly. "They've heard a lot."
He looked down at his hands. "Bad, I'm sure."
I exhaled. "I don't hate you, Alex."
"Feels like it." He was moody and refused eye contact, almost like he was me. We had been around each other for so long that we had become each other. People would say this to me but I rarely saw it.
"Call it PMSing. It just wasn't the best greeting."
He nodded, the understanding slowly seeping into him. "I know. I'm sorry for that."
"I woke up early to be awake when you got back and there I go getting sick."
He looked guilty. Solemn and culpable. "I should be making you tea."
I turned back with a smile. "Yeah. You should."
He walked closer and hugged my side. He placed a kiss on my temple and squeezed me close to him. "Go sit down. I'll bring this over to you."
I kissed his cheek. "Alright."
*
Fennel and Kaka's apartment was stuffed with everything. People, liquor, drugs, music, hearts. Alex wore a white shirt with a suit jacket over top. I wore a pink floral Roberto Cavalli cocktail dress, Fennel provided. Maybe it was because of our fight earlier or maybe I had just changed since I had seen Alex last, but I held a superiority complex over him. The silk of my dress wrapped me in elegance and the rough quality of his suit jacket. Oh, shit, I was becoming posh.
Looking back, I wasn't dignified or aware enough that my mother held these opinions of my father as well. However, I was also in a bitter state, and even Alex said I looked better than him so I wasn't really kidding myself.
People held cocktails and canapés were being moved throughout the room. Alex and I stood in the corner silently, I sipped the edge of my gimlet to keep it from spilling. Alex drank a whiskey. I kept thinking about it, in an ashamed way, but then I found humour in it and thought it best to break the ice and tell Alex what I was thinking. "We really are my mother and father."
He turned, originally with a neutral look on his face before spotting the crack of my smile. He breathed laughter out and lifted his glass, taking a slow sip from it. I imagine he was looking for something to say. We hadn't spoken for so long that his vocal chords must’ve needed a refresher course. He dropped the glass to his side. "I hope all the good parts."
I chuckled. "You say that like there are some."
He tossed his head side-to-side. "They've always had elegance to them. They intimidate me. The way the act is, you know..." He moved his hand like he was fishing for the word, trying to find it in the ocean of his mind.
"Posh?" I suggested.
His jaw dropped. "Now, Janie, I would never say that."
"Oy! Jane Cavendish!" It was Fennel, approaching us with Kaka following behind him. They were both dressed in matching maroon suits, each with a cocktail. "Beautiful. Always beautiful. And this must be Alex. Oh, how we've waited for this moment."
"Don't say that. You'll make him nervous," I told them. Alex didn't like it when I told people this. He found it to be invasive for other people—those not close to him—to know his emotions. I found Fennel and Kaka to be trustworthy of this information.
Alex peered over at me like I was his mother embarrassing him in front of his friends. "It's nice to finally meet you both." He shook their hands and they were both very impressed by this. I could tell.
"You both look lovely," I told them.
"Ralph Lauren," Fennel replied. He moved his hand down the fabric of his suit. "Red velvet. Feel." He reached out for my hand and rubbed it up against the velvet, the smoothness running under my fingers. "Now, you, Alex." He grabbed Alex's hand doing the same. It was awkward and made me giggle but Fennel always had a way of putting people at ease. At the sound of my enjoyment, Alex chuckled, nodding his head in approval of the fabric choice.
Kaka told Alex, "Has Jane told you how jealous we are of you two?"
Alex looked over at me at the knowledge of this news. "No, no. Why?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"The romance," Kaka swooned. "I wish I could have met Fennel sooner but we were a mess at your age. To find your love so early and keep it going and in the way you two are. If I was doing that at 23, I'd be a mess. Young love is just so lovely. Sorry, I'm a little inebriated."
Alex chuckled. "That's fine."
"You're a very beautiful couple," Fennel said. "I know a lot of ugly ones. Inside and out."
"Well, we had a fight before this so, if that brings us down from paradise for a bit." Alex seemed shocked I had said this. I thought I sounded like my 17-year-old self again. It was honest to me but it was also childish.
Fennel waved his hands. "Fights are great. You should have makeup sex in the bathroom."
I asked, "But where will everyone do coke?" We all laughed. Alex too, if not out of humour than of peer pressure.
Hours passed. We talked with some of my co-workers and Fennel's and Kaka's cultured friends. While Alex was in the bathroom, I talked with David Remnick and nearly fainted out of nervousness because I couldn't remember how to say Ibuprofen.
Alex and I went to the balcony to smoke. The city rushed by below and we each lit a cigarette up alone. I sighed and leaned on the railing, my head in my hand. It was so hot in the apartment but I felt so chilly outside as the wind rushed by. I felt Alex place his hand on my back. He was like a hot water bottle. He knocked against my spine like he was checking to make sure all my vertebrae were still in place. "You look like Juliet."
I turned my head to look at him but his head was off to the left, the smoke escaping out of the side of his mouth. He looked like he was stargazing, even though he couldn't have seen any in that light-polluted sky. His touch on me was this firm thing. I had never felt him so strongly like he wanted me to know he was still standing there beside me.
"The moon is so bright," he said. I looked into his eyes, searching for it in there. I followed his line of sight before my own landed on the glowing sphere hanging up in the sky. It stood bold against the black void surrounding it.
I looked at Alex, bold as ever. I couldn't manage anything with my tongue. I just stared at him while he stared at the moon. I don't know if he felt my eyes on him or if he was so enraptured with the moon that he couldn't handle looking anywhere else.
I sighed, standing up straight. I don't know what I was thinking by standing up so quickly. I don't know why I didn't just stay there and watch him for hours. "I've never understood the whole man-in-the-moon thing."
Alex shrugged, still staring above. "You can see anything if you look long enough."
I scuffed my cigarette out on the railing but kept the dog end in my hand. "Do you think if I stare at it long enough I'll see you?"
He hummed his response. I wasn't sure if we were speaking in some kind of code or just dancing around one another's words. Everything felt off, even if we looked so on track. I was uneasy in finding a response. He acted like he wanted to be alone but his hand persisted its touch on my back. His lips wrapped around his smoke and his eyes stared off into the lights of the city.
My arms crossed and I stood at what felt like such a distance. I stepped sideways, figuring Alex to be done with me and on to his stargazing. I'd have greater engagement talking to the walls inside and at least then I'd have a cocktail too. I turned away and his hand grazed across my back as I moved.
"I feel like I've done something wrong," Alex finally spoke. I had my back to him and it felt like I may never look at him again. Either he or my feet wouldn't allow me to turn around to see him. "I overstepped earlier."
My hand went to my forehead and it was like my brain was going to swell up and push itself out of my skull. I spun around on my heels. He was leaning back against the rail nonchalantly but held such caution in his bones. His eyes had a hard time staying on mine as he committed to the nervous habit of playing with his nails and tapping the end of his cigarette. "It's fine. I don't want to fight about it. I'm tired."
"Okay." He deflected his silence onto me, acting as if I was the one causing tension between us. Earlier that was the case but I dropped it in the kitchen and moved on with life. The whole day Alex held a wall around him. It wasn't a new thing for him to have his guard up, but I usually wasn’t the one blocked from entering.
I swore to myself long ago, after our break-up in '07 that I wouldn't be accusatory to Alex. Trust had always been strong but we always had a weak link. His stare now penetrated me and I felt like the nervous one. My arms stayed crossed but my hands began to squeeze the sides of me and I looked away, inside at the party, which had grown louder as the pretense of class had dropped with the amount of alcohol and drugs. "Did something happen on tour?"
My eyes moved back at his quietness. I had a sick feeling in my stomach but I didn't feel like I had a right to. I'm the one who fucked up before so I'd forgive him if he did now. Instead of guilt, he stared at me like he didn't know what language I was speaking. "No. Why?"
I don't know if he wanted me to feel sorry for him because I was accusing him of something that he didn't do or if he was as lost as I was when it came to this stalemate. "You just seem off. That's all."
He shrugged. "It's been a weird day." I was hit with a wave and I'm still figuring out whether it was from nostalgia or because I actually did see it but I swore he looked 17 again at that moment. I'll always see glimpses of that. The locked-in memory of his first impression. Through his long hair and whatever frustration he seemed to have, I smiled because we were standing in a garden. One that was on a balcony and was mainly weed other than one pot of zinnias.
I dropped my arms and plucked at the fabric of my dress. I didn't tell him what I thought. I thought myself to be a little childish in my reminiscing but it was Valentine's Day and I don't know why we went to this party because I always just wanted Alex to myself. I was a desperate woman with a sole propensity to be alone with Alex, especially when it was the day of his homecoming. I blamed it on my period, which I got the following day (not pregnant).
"You didn't want to come here tonight?" I said it as a question but it was a statement. I was already sure of Alex's stance. His inability to relax around strangers and his reluctance to engage in small talk. I knew he also had an inclination to be alone with me.
He played nice though. Always gave in to me easily on these kinds of dilemmas because it's what I wanted. He couldn't give me much in other areas (I had just finally won the whole location problem) so he found it expected to do what I wanted to do when he was around. But, sometimes (I use sometimes very loosely because I do in fact like getting my way), I liked doing what he wanted to do. Most of all, my favourite thing was talking to him. So, why would I spend a whole night chit-chatting with other people? (Besides, David Remnick because that really was a dream come true).
"I'm having fun." He wasn't very convincing. A tone of neutrality and a shrug of his shoulders that just looked like disinterest.
I chuckled to myself. "I'd like to give myself some credit. I know you better than anyone else so I know that you're full of shit."
He laughed and finally dropped his cigarette and his rough shoulders. "I'm just tired."
"Sure," I dragged out, unconvinced. "I'm kind of wishing we just went to a pub or something."
Alex looked down and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. I'm wishing a lot of things right now."
My brows furrowed and I wanted to look closer at him but his hand and hair shielded his expression. "Like what?"
He put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the city. "I don't know. I think I'm just a little messed up right now."
I stepped forward, wanting to stand next to him, wanting to touch him. I moved close enough that he was forced to look at me. "What's going on?"
The browns of his eyes looked darker and shinier as if they had been glazed over. I wanted to touch his face and have him lean into my hand, but I wanted to hear what he had to say first. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket but I had him cornered. "Just in my head. The usual."
"About what? Me?" It might have been selfish to think so but he looked like he might cry while looking at me and I don't think I had felt that insecure in front of Alex in years.
He shook his head. "I don't even want to say it. It's so stupid."
"I don't want you to leave it in there."
His eyes darted in a million directions before landing on mine. "Just things are changing."
It took me a second to understand. It took me a gust of wind passing before I pointed to myself. "Me?"
He rattled his brain with the shake of his head. "I'm just in my head, Janie."
I grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to take notice of me. "Well, let me in. You know, I like when we talk." I smiled up at him and he released the hint of a smile, a sparkle behind his eyes. "I like knowing what's going on and what you have to say, what you're thinking. I don't get much of that while you're away and I think we both stew in our thoughts for so long that we're practically bored of it by the time we see the other and then we think we don't have to bother saying anything. But I've never heard about this and I want to know about this. I want to know about you if you let me."
A grin covered his face, so wide his teeth peeked through to wave to me. "What?" I asked. His smile just seemed to grow bigger and his eyes cast down on me. I thought he might kiss me but I'm glad he didn't, I didn't want to get distracted. "What?" I insisted, punching his leaning figure.
"Nothing," he said so cheerfully. I thought he might have taken something to cause this sudden change. He put his hand on my shoulder like he wanted to touch me but wanted to make sure we kept our distance. "I just love the way you talk. I don't know. Like the way you know how my brain works and you feel everything I'm feeling. I just...I love talking to you too. It's what I've always loved about you. I feel like I can't do this with anyone else. Just lay myself out and never have to worry. I think I forgot the feeling."
I wrapped my arm around his neck, closing the distance, and having us stand chest-to-chest. "We'll blame the jetlag."
"Sorry for being moody. I think it's an after-effect of prolonged homesickness."
"It's fine. I suffer from it too." It made me smile that we both considered each other home. It was cheesy and cliche but that didn’t make it untrue.
"Do you think there's a cure?" He moved closer and it took me that long to realize we hadn't kissed all day between the vomit and the fighting and the party. I should be put in jail for this.
I didn't kiss him right away. I hugged him first just to feel him, make sure he was there, all of him. "I might start with getting out of here."
Alex insisted, "Don't make me force you to leave."
"I wouldn't if I didn't want to. I'm craving shitty fries and chairs that squeak." And him. I really craved him.
"You love it when we play poor together."
"I love when we're together." We finally kissed at that point, waiting any longer felt like too much. He was right with me and I never wanted him to leave. If we kissed any longer we might have fallen off the side of the balcony. Together.
I dragged him through the apartment with me, trailing like my puppy but he was my loyal dog. His hand was clasped in mine and I kissed both Kaka's and Fennel's cheeks and promised to have dinner sometime soon for a more proper introduction to Alex. "Enjoy your Valentine's, love," Kaka said in his drunken impersonation of a British accent.
"You too," Alex said for both of us.
He put my fur coat on me and we left onto the sidewalk of the loved-up city. We decided to walk back in the direction of our apartment and land at a shitty bar along the way. We walked side-by-side like we were two anxious teenagers again. I suppose we had regressed in the absence of one another and the readjustment was more structurally unsound than usual.
"So, uh," I started, "you think I've changed too much?"
He threw his head back. "Don't listen to me."
I grabbed his arm, tugging on it. "No, I want you to be honest with me. None of this evasiveness."
Alex put his arm around my shoulder, pushing me into him. "I'm just catching up a little. You've been busy while I've been gone and I like that."
"But too much too quick?" Fennel and Kaka and the load of other people they had in their apartment could be too much. It overwhelmed me at times and I knew most of the people in the room.
We stopped at a corner, waiting for a light. He turned his head to look directly at me. "Just give me a bit of a grace period." He smiled so carefully. Not in a calculated way but to reaffirm his statement.
I smiled back. "I'd give you anything you want." It was probably too much to give a person, something I wasn't even willing to give to myself, but we were sharing a desperate kind of love. It wasn't the healthiest but he was the only person I knew would love me no matter what.
He seemed struck by this statement, unable to tear his eyes away to spot the green light in front of us. I pointed ahead at it but he didn't move his feet. He bent down and kissed my cheek firmly. I think he would have stayed there forever if I hadn't pushed him and insisted we cross the street before the light turned red again. He leaned down and whispered, "Ditto."
We stopped at The Scratcher in the East Village. It was Irish but akin to English by nature. It had exposed brick and when I asked the bartender for a Guinness (me) and lager shandy (Alex) he talked with me about England long after he had given me our drinks. The lighting was low and it was late but the bar was still full with mostly lonely hearts, save us and a few other couples.
Alex found us a table in the back corner by a group of rowdy men and for a bit it did feel like we were back home. "That's what I love about New York," I mused to him. "I find pieces of home here. I never found that in Los Angeles. Too deserty."
Alex leaned his cheek on his fist. His eyes looked tired but his smile stayed exercising. "You seem really happy here."
I shrugged. It was hard to admit these things. Like if I spoke it out loud it would cease to be true. "I guess, in a way, it feels like it’s something I did on my own. I know I'm not alone but...you know what I mean."
His eyes flashed down at the table and he sat up straight, leaning back against his chair. "Yeah. I know what you mean." He sipped his drink and I could tell he was going to say something once he washed his words down. "I really like it here too." The infliction in his voice was distracted as if he was thinking about 10 other things. I didn't know which one to ask about.
"Tour's almost over." I was ashamed that it flew by for me. Maybe because I was more occupied. I thought it should have felt like it dragged on forever. The way I used to feel about it. Granted it was shorter than the previous tours but I had never been this involved with Alex. We shared a home now, yet, his things—his clothes next to mine and the record collection collecting dust—didn't make me long for him, yearn for him. Perhaps, it was growing up. Perhaps, it was growing apart.
I circled my finger around my glass's edge. "I don't know if I'll be able to get off for the London shows."
"That's fine." He has always been so accepting. Like most things, it was a blessing and curse. Sometimes, I hated that he didn't put up a fight. He never told me what he desired, even with things like LA. It was a work obligation, not something he wished for. Maybe it's because I always wanted too much and Alex balanced it out by wanting too little.
"I got off work tomorrow. If you want to do anything."
He smirked. "I have one idea." Alex did desire some things.
*
I cut Alex's hair a week later. He complained of it being too long and I suggested he go to the barber and then he said I should do it. It was late but we were very happy.
We shared a glass of wine. I had Alex sit in the bathtub and I kneeled on the tile floor. We washed it first and then emptied the bathtub before I began to cut it. "What if you end up not liking it?" I questioned. I wasn't nervous. If anything I was power-hungry holding the kitchen scissors.
"I'll like it. It'll grow back either way. How bad could you fuck it up?” He chuckled before saying, “Last time you did this we broke up. Can't fuck up more than that."
His laughter induced me to join him. I sipped the wine before passing it to him. It felt very adult and I told him that. He said, "I could do this forever."
*
Alex experienced his first nor'easter blizzard at the end of February. I had experienced my first at the beginning of the month. He was quite excited for it. It was childish excitement like he was going to receive a snow day. I suppose his snow day was the fact that I didn’t have to go to work. I ended up getting Thursday and Friday off, which, well, did feel like a snow day.
However, it was cold. Like really cold. We ventured outside at the start of the storm to collect groceries and experience the snowfall. We got into a snowball outside our building’s front door before the snow turned to slush. Alex accidentally ended up hitting Russ Tillerson, who lived on the floor below us. He had a good spirit and laughed before shoving snow down Alex’s back, smushed in between his skin and his coat.
It took me a good few minutes to recover from laughter over Alex’s shivers. “It’s not fun,” he insisted, still patting snow out.
I hit his thick jacket with my gloved hand. “You’re not a good sport.”
He pouted and whined, “I don’t want to be a good sport. I want to be warm.”
I stroked his cheek, rubbing the icicle crystals stuck on my glove onto his skin making him wince. “Awwww. Poor baby. I’ll run you a bath when we get back.” He quite enjoyed that bath.
The days were fun but long. We watched TV and had sex for most of it. We ate sloppy like we were at a slumber party. We got high Friday night while watching Goodfellas. I ate a bag of salt & vinegar chips and half a pack of Chips Ahoy! Alex ate a whole pack of Oreos and drank enough Coke to shut down your organs.
“I’m sorry I’m so high,” I apologized.
He waved me off and sunk deeper into the couch pillows. “It’s fine. I wish we had more Coke.”
“We could do coke coke.”
“You have coke coke?”
“No. But we could get some?” It was candy in my new circle. Easy to obtain, sweet to do, horrible for you.
“Nah,” he rejected. “You’ve done it?”
“Yeah. I used to do it with…what’s his name…Robert.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry I’m so quiet,” I apologized again.
“You’re good.”
“Ray Liotta is so hot.”
“You’re so hot.”
“Mhmm.” My eyes moved away from blue eyes to Alex’s brown. He had sat up from his slump and was leaning on the armrest, observationally. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” He smirked, all-knowing.
“You know…how horny I get…” His smirk grew. “Don’t look at me like that!”
He curled his fingers, beckoning me to him. “Come here. Let me do you.”
I laughed and closed my eyes, prepared to succumb to sleep. His foot knocked mine. “What?”
“C’mon.”
He came to me. And, well, in me.
*
Alex left halfway through March, narrowly missing another nor’easter, but this time less severe. Opal came a few days later for work. She stayed at the Bowery Hotel, a few blocks east of me. I had walked by it a million times and always longed to go in. It was my second most desired hotel after the Plaza. 
She was there for work but apparently now had a boyfriend there too but that was all supposed to be obvious. Opal talked about things like you already knew everything about it. She told outlandish stories where she'd say, "You know how Charlie is" when I had never heard of Charlie before. Nonetheless, she was exciting and good company.
Alex was in Baltimore by the time I called him while drunk. Opal and I had gone to House of Yes and said yes to every drink along the way. Opal left with some guy who wasn't her boyfriend but it's okay because they had an open relationship, I think. Therefore, I was left outside House of Yes going home alone. I don't blame Opal for ditching me; the guy was hot and I insisted she go by saying I wasn't drunk, just tipsy.
I called Alex and lit up a cigarette at the same time. He picked up after 2 rings while I was still muffled by the cigarette in between my teeth. "Hiya, honey," I mumbled.
I heard laughing, either from him or the drunkards around him. He had been drinking too but not heavily. "Hey, sweetie." He moved away from the sound. I imagined him tucking himself away in the back end of the tour bus.
"I'm needy and I miss you," I whined.
His soft chuckling rang through the phone. "What's that mean?"
"It means I'm walking to the subway in Brooklyn." I scraped my heels against the cement.
"Ah. You and Opal have fun?"
"Yeah, but I'm drunk and alone. She's probably having sex right now. Everyone is having sex right now." House of Yes was a very sexual place in 2010.
"I'm not."
"Yeah,” I giggled. “I figured that one out. Could you imagine? You're on the phone with me having sex."
"What? Like phone sex?" He teased me.
I scolded him, "I'm not having phone sex in public. I meant like you were fucking someone else and on the phone with me."
"Why would I fuck someone else?" His tone was puzzled and I think he was drunker than I thought he was at the time.
"I don't know. I'm drunk. There's no logic to my thinking."
"I don't think I'll ever have sex with someone else. It'd be weird."
"I'd have sex with other people."
"Really?" He didn’t sound worried. Just curious.
"Yeah. Like George Clooney or something."
"I'll let you have Clooney. I’d fuck Clooney."
"Nah. He wouldn't settle down with me anyway."
There was a pause of silence before he expressed, "Miss you."
"Yeah. Me too."
He buzzed as if the words were sinking in. "End of the month and then I'm all yours."
"I like that idea. I've been hanging out with Opal so much I think she's starting to hate me."
"No. She just needs hot ass like the rest of us." It had been a very lonely month in the sex department.
"I'm not hot ass?"
"You're the hottest ass."
"Subway's here."
"Okay. Let me know when you're home."
"Yeah. Love you."
He hummed in agreement.
*
Alex returned at the end of April. We relaxed back into domestic obliviousness. That weekend, we went over for dinner at Fennel and Kaka's. We drank wine, ate fancy chicken, and played with Rooster. 
We sat at one end of their dining room table. Alex's nervousness had faded but he remained stiff, the obvious odd man out. We were laughing about work and Sally Condalteen's explosible haircut, all out of Alex's frame of reference. 
Fennel, observing this, gasped and said, "I just realized I haven't even heard the story of how you two met."
I turned to Alex, who was looking at me. I was like a mother training a child to speak for themselves. "You tell it. I've never heard your side of things."
"Okay. Uh, well, Jane had a class with Matt, who is the drummer of, you know, the band, and he invited her to our first gig. We sort of knew each other—small college and that kind of thing—but never talked. So, at the venue, I went up to her and called her the wrong name. The whole night I figured I screwed things up and made a fool of myself. Then, I'm outside smoking and she comes out and I thought maybe I wouldn't say anything but then I realized I'd probably never get another chance, so..."
"You went for it?" Kaka, a big woosy romantic, grinned.
"Obviously," I answered.
"What about you? What did you think when he came up to you?" Fennel asked me.
I shrugged. "Nervous. I think. After, terrified."
"Why?" He was like a psychologist desperate to get to the bottom of things.
I shrugged. I didn't want to reveal my whole emotional state to them but their eyes stared at me. "He knew me better in one conversation than anyone in my life. It's stupid."
"No!" Fennel insisted. "It makes me believe in soulmates."
"Oh, god," I exhaled exasperatedly, rolling my eyes.
Kaka swatted at me. "Don't be so pessimistic."
"I have to be. I'm a realistic woman." Or a doubtful one. I was a recovering romantic at best.
Fennel turned his bark onto Alex. "You think you'll marry her, Alex?"
"Don't answer that,” I quickly insisted. “They're wanting to cause trouble. They did the same thing with me."
Alex looked tempted but listened to my instructions. He turned to the two men. "How'd you two meet?"
When we left there was a drizzle of rain. Not enough to wet your clothes, but enough to huddle close to one another as we walked to the subway. Alex squeezed my hip, playing with the sculpture of the bone. "Do you want to get married?"
"We've talked about this." The whole subject made me feel awkward. I felt too young for the subject.
But then Alex said, "No. I mean, do you want to get married tonight?"
"It's midnight!" Deflection.
"Then, in the morning."
I shook my head. "No."
Alex looked like the air had been taken out of him. He readjusted and continued walking. "Okay."
"Maybe in like two years." Or two decades. The whole thing gave me body sweats.
"What's the difference between now and 2 years?" He didn’t ask it accusatorially. He was inquisitive.
"We're 24!” Frontal lobe and all that. “I can't tell if you're being serious now or not?"
He lightly shook his hair around. "Maybe a little. If you wanted to, I would. I'd do whatever for you. If I can give it to you, I will."
"Are you sure?" He worried me too much when he talked about giving things to me. He had always stretched himself and I was sure one day he would break.
He squeezed my hand. "What's going on?"
"What's going on with you? This overcompensation or whatever. I don't want you to give me everything. Keep some for yourself."
He looked at me for a moment, thinking it over. Then, he said, "Fine. Half to you then."
"40%."
"45%."
*
We went to Coney Island because I really wanted to ride the Cyclone. It was the first really hot day of the year. Unknown to us, it was also Memorial Day Weekend, which meant the beaches were open, which meant everyone, their mother, and their grandmother were at Coney Island.
Alex could wait in lines. I could whine to Alex while we waited in lines. He bought us enough tickets to ride the Cyclone and then go home because I was miserable in the heat and in line. But the line to get on the Cyclone was long and we had been standing there for what felt like hours.
"It's been 5 minutes," he noted. "We can come back another day."
"No," I moaned. "I want to do it today. I had it all planned out. I had planned to ride a rollercoaster today."
He laughed. "How do you plan to ride a rollercoaster?"
"You eat light so you don't throw up."
Alex tossed his head back in laughter. Suddenly, he snapped his head down with a concerned look on his face. "Have you not eaten anything today?"
"Well, yeah, I didn't want to throw up."
"God,” he scoffed, “no wonder you're in a horrible mood."
"I'm not in a horrible mood."
He gave me a look. He grabbed my hand and yanked us out of line. "Where are we going?"
"To eat. The Cyclone will still be there next weekend."
When we went next weekend, I loved the Cyclone and wanted to ride every ride there. I then threw up after the tilt-a-whirl.
*
I wrote a piece for The Paris Review in June. Alex sent it to what felt like everyone we knew. He attached it with a note that The Paris Review was located in New York and not Paris. He was very fascinated by that.
He had flown to London for the theatrical release of Submarine when the piece was published. It felt like a mighty contrast. The songs Alex had written for Submarine were what I would describe as the last box that had yet to be unpacked in our apartment. They were vulnerable but covered in metaphors I'm not sure anyone understood other than me. 
He had played them for me, asked for my opinion, revised, and played again. It was the first time Alex workshopped music with me since "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts." I always thought it was because he didn't have the band to work with. He has denied this and said that the songs were meant for me first, the movie was inconsequential. I'm not sure how true that is and how much Alex just wants to take credit for being a romantic or something. 
Either way, he wrote me a note before he left. He tucked it in my journal to make sure I wouldn't find it until he left. It read, There’s a piece of you in this, and in me.
My piece was fictional. It was about a girl who drinks too much coffee. It's hard to explain without it sounding stupid. 
I didn't write about Alex much. Opal found this weird when I had shown her my work last year. She said he was such a big part of me that it seemed bizarre I didn't write about him. My explanation, mostly, was the protective quality I held over Alex. His songs were shielded in forty different metaphors before you got to me. In my work, as evidence here, I name names, especially in these years when my name was so attachable to Alex’s.
I had shifted back to writing fiction because that's what most literary magazines like The Paris Review accepted. Of course, I'm not a girl who drinks too much coffee at all.
I liked the stability of the Condé Nast job but I had been indulging myself in fantasies of writing a book again. When Alex returned to New York, I told him this over lunch. We went to Lexington Candy Shop, which is a diner, not a candy shop. Another thing Alex wouldn’t shut up about.
I drank a malt shake (coffee-flavoured) and Alex had a Coke (the old-fashioned way where the syrup and soda water is stirred together, not the really old-fashioned way with coke like Alex wouldn't stop joking about) while we waited for our food. "I think I want to go for it."
Alex was contagious. You could believe you could do anything with that smile. "You should. You have one guaranteed customer."
"Well, you'd read anything I'd write."
"'Cause it's good."
"Don't butter me up."
"Come on, you know you're a great writer, Janie. You don't get into The Paris Review as a shite writer."
"Shut up about The Paris Review," I laughed.
I reached across and squeezed my hand. It made me squirmish. "I'm never shutting up about The Paris Review and that's because I read this really good piece about coffee in it and—"
"Stop talking about coffee too. You're making me stressed."
"Ease up. You'll be a New York Times bestseller by this time next year."
I stood up, running away from his stress-inducing words. "I'm going to the bathroom."
He crossed his arms. "That won't change anything."
We returned home. Alex put on a record and I decided to act like I was reading a book until Alex sat beside me. Then, I decided to makeout with him. Hormones. I'm not sure what his excuse was since he wouldn't stop grabbing my ass. "Are we about to have sex to The Beatles?" I asked as "All My Loving" sounded out through our apartment.
"Yeah. It's what John Lennon would have wanted." He pushed me down into the couch cushions. I was the meat in a sandwich between the two.
"I love this song," I mused against his lips.
"Good,” he huffed. “Let's fuck to it."
"Stop," I shrieked, laughing too hard to focus on his penis. I pushed him up off of me and sat up, collecting the trash that had accumulated on the coffee table.
Like any typical guy, he said, "Come on, Janie, I had to take care of this myself all week."
I knocked, "You masturbated all week?"
"I did other things too," he joked.
I was slightly fishing for a compliment but I was genuinely curious too when I asked, "What do you do it too?"
He laughed at my question. He scruffed my hair up. "You, you fucking idiot. What else? What do you think about?"
I shrugged. "I don't masturbate."
"Liar."
"I don't," I insisted.
"You told me you used to have a vibrator."
"Not anymore." I hadn’t thought to bring it through customs. It was tossed around the London to LA move.
"You don't masturbate? Why?" Alex was still stuck in that heightened sexual teenage boy phase. It made it so sex seemed like the only answer. He eventually grew out of this but it was an enduring fixture of his personality for a while.
I shrugged. "I don't like it."
"How can you not like it?”
"I get all sad after. I don't really do it anymore." It made me depressed for the whole day after. I would think about growing up too quickly and dying alone. Maybe that’s just how I was in the aughts. I didn’t give it up completely. Things would change soon after this conversation. I also got on anti-depressants. 
"Why?"
"Is it shocking that someone isn't thinking about sex 24/7?"
"Well, yeah.” I did think about it often but not like Alex, still-not-fully-matured did. “I'm not good enough to masturbate to." Now, he was fishing for compliments.
I stood up from the couch and walked to the garbage bin. "No, it's more like...the other way."
He turned to me with an open jaw. "I'm that good in bed?"
"Don't get an inflated ego on me. I'll refuse to have sex with you if you start boasting."
"I won't boast. I'll just show off." He pulled me down, stuffing me between him and the couch. He made a great effort into "proving it." In a way, it kind of ruined it. I mean, he had this smug look on his face the whole time and he was so into the thought that he was good at it that he started to not be good at it.
"When you get off your pedestal, sir, can you actually fuck me?" I asked.
He seemed to snap out of it and realized he was inside me and not himself. "Fuck. Sorry."
Later, around "Devil in Her Heart," Alex laid his head on my stomach. He'd move around and kiss around my stomach, sometimes rising up to my breasts, but mainly hanging out around my belly button. 
I sighed from exhaustion, lust, and resignation. "I have to get glasses."
Alex laughed against my liver. "You can see fine. I think you've got a couple decades before you have to worry about glaucoma."
"No. The doctor told me I have to get glasses."
Alex seemed to find this really funny. "Are you serious? You're gonna look so geeky."
"Gee, thanks."
He kissed my diaphragm repeatedly. "I like nerds. Are you going to have to wear them all the time?"
"No, just at night. I've been struggling in the dark."
"You're gonna get night vision. Like Batman."
I got the glasses about a week later and I walked back into the apartment wearing them. Alex looked up from the couch, placed his hand over his heart, and said, "Everyone must hate you."
I tossed my keys in the little dish by the door that Alex had made it at a ceramics session that we did together about a month prior. "Enlighten me," I said with a laugh.
"You're just fucking gorgeous, Janie," Alex decided. He looked back down at his book like I burned his eyes.
I kicked my shoes off. "Careful. I'll get a complex."
"What? Like you'll finally believe me."
"I believe you," I promised. I had grown confident in myself or at least confident enough in Alex to believe he wasn't lying to me. "Or I'll try to."
I sat down beside him on the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Here," he pointed his finger to the middle of the page, "read this sentence."
I rolled my eyes but obliged. "'So they went on for a good while, talking now of their cards and now about me, as though I were not in the room'—how long do I have to do this for?"
He smashed his lips against my cheek. "That's all." He returned to his book and I ordered us dinner.
A few days later, we were trapped inside due to the pouring rain. I was working on a review for work and Alex was reading. He had a cigarette in his mouth but it was unlit. I think he was going through the motions but couldn't go outside to smoke it and I refused to let him smoke indoors. 
My feet poked at the side of his body. Every five minutes or so, I'd poke my toes into him. He'd laugh, whether provoked or ticklish, it was an acknowledgment of our presence with one another. 
Thunder pounded through and Alex squeezed my foot to get my attention. I looked up at him through my lenses. He smirked, which I knew meant he was thinking something foul. "Can I fuck you with your glasses on?"
I don't mean for this year to seem particularly nasty but we did...you know...do it all the time. There wasn't much else to do. We were together all the time, we would talk over dinner, share this alone time together, and then I or Alex (usually Alex) would hit a point in the evening where we might as well just get on with it. Besides, this instant was pretty important. You know, with the thunderstorms. And my glasses. Alex really likes that part.
*
Alex and I went to an antique store in Dobbs Ferry because Fennel, who had been vacationing in Mykonos for the last month, needed me to pick up a statuaries from this rare antiques store. We decided to make a day trip out of it. Not there was much to do in Dobbs Ferry.
We shared headphones on the way up. Our moods were transactional through the iPod. Alex had this habit of scrolling his finger back and forth on the dial. It would make this scrolling noise, but I kind of liked that noise so I never stopped him. 
We walked the town's aqueduct for a bit. It had felt like the city was on fire but just a little north felt cooler. Maybe it was the fresh rain with that dewy smell. Alex's jeans ended up getting grass stains on the butt of them because he sat down in the wet field.
At lunch, we shared a stack of pancakes and Alex let me eat all the bacon. "I can't remember the last time I had a proper breakfast," I said as I chewed into the syrup-soaked fried batter.
Alex chuckled. "It's noon. I think it's more like lunch."
"Shush," I forced him out. I looked around and observed the tiny diner we were in. It's exactly what you'd imagine for a small town with men having coffee at the counter and mother and child having lunch. "I like it here."
Alex nodded with a smile. "You like a small town."
I shook my head. "Just for a bit. Not forever."
*
At the start of August, Matt visited us for a week. He slept on the couch and ate all our food but we all had a great time. Not since Barnsley had just the three of us hung out, especially for an extended period of time. Matt and I—just the two of us—hadn't hung out in close to eight years. Not that we ever were best of friends but it's weird how he had adapted more into Alex's friend than my friend. Nonetheless, he still felt like a brother to me. Or maybe brother-in-law.
Alex went out to the store one evening, leaving just Matt and I and whatever movie we were semi-watching. Matt sat up from his slumped back state, placing his beer on the coffee table. "I'm gonna have a smoke. You gonna join me?"
I giggled. "Oh, Matt, you know just the way to my heart."
We travelled up to the apartment building's rooftop. It was sparse besides a picnic table and a grill. The Fourth of July party had been held up there. Alex and I went for the free food but had to endure several Revolutionary War jokes. Matt sat on one side of the table and I sat on the other, an ashtray between us.
"I can't remember the last time we smoked together," I commented.
Matt lit his up before handing me the lighter. "At least not cigarettes," he laughed. "It's funny. This is all we used to do."
"Used to? Speak for yourself." I knew Matt didn't smoke that much anymore. Not like Alex and I who upheld equality with one another on who was going to get lung cancer first. We smoked enough to decide we'd both probably get it under the same time. Depressing romanticism.
"It's weird to think of a time before you and Alex got together," he said, flicking the ash.
I fanned the smoke away from my eyes. "Yeah. It's hard for me to imagine."
"And you guys are good and all that?" His tone was traced with suspicion or maybe I was just misplacing it there.
"Yeah." He nodded but stayed silent and I grew worried that I was being left out on something but I didn't want to touch it. "And you? Are you good?"
He chuckled. "Yeah. I'm good, Jane."
I joined him in laughter. "Good."
The roof door opened and Alex walked through. "Thought you two ran off."
"We kind of did. We made it as far as the roof," I told him as he walked over to us.
He sat next to Alex and grabbed a cigarette from himself. "Am I joining one of those fabled smokes?" He asked.
"What?" Matt questioned.
I explained, "When we were younger, and used to sit out on the kerb with one another. I call them Fireside Chats like FDR."
Matt laughed. "I was drunk for most of those. Memory is a little fuzzy."
"You're not alone in that." I stubbed at the cigarette and rested my head on my palm. "I don't want to drink tonight though."
Matt raised his eyebrows. "Pregnant?"
"Shut up." I rolled my eyes and wondered if Alex had told Matt about the scare back in winter. "I have work tomorrow."
"Oh," Matt uttered, "little Janie's all professional now."
Alex nodded. "Yeah. What losers the rest of us are."
"Yeah. If Jane of all people can settle down—"
I interjected, ready to fight, "I was not that horrible." Alex and Matt only met me with a stare causing another eye roll from me. "I'm going to bed."
Alex and Matt stayed put and I assumed they were going to have one of their own Fireside Chats. "We'll try and be quiet," Alex told me before I pecked his lips.
I walked over and placed a kiss on Matt's cheek. He slapped his hand over the cheek, wiping it down. "Ew. You slobber like my mum."
"God. What a baby you are." With that, I went downstairs. I'm not sure what time they went to bed but when I left for work the next morning, they were both dead asleep. Not even the sound of me dropping my coffee arose them.
*
Alex was writing something. I woke up and the red light of the clock blared out, the time reading 4:34 AM. I rubbed my eye, scrubbing the dream out of me. His pen moved across the page and he was propped up against the headboard with his notebook tilted under the soft light coming from his small bedside lamp. 
He felt my movement and turned to me as I flipped onto my side to look up at him, his eyebrows knitted. "Did I wake you?"
I shook my head against the pillow. "I don't think so. Why are you still up?" I held the tip of his elbow to keep in touch with him.
"Woke up about an hour ago. Couldn't fall back to sleep." He was scratching his pen up and down across his page, just making lines. 
I flipped onto my back, roughing my hands through my hair. "Probably because it's so fucking hot in here." Our landlord had turned the AC off a week ago when it seemed like it was finally getting cold until the temperatures started shooting back up this week. "I might take a shower. I feel so sweaty." I sat up, throwing my legs off the bed. 
I could hear the smirk in his voice. A light chuckle as he said, "Let me know if you do."
My phone rang. "I bet it's Stacey," I told Alex. "She still doesn't understand the whole timezone thing."
"She's 18 and she still doesn't know about timezones?" Alex questioned.
I sighed as I tied my hair up. "Let me rephrase. She doesn't care about the whole timezone thing."
"Ah," Alex said as I picked up the phone.
I moved into the bathroom, preparing to start the shower as I talked to Stacey. I sat in the bathroom, on the toilet seat, for about 10 minutes before I moved back into the bedroom. "Shower time?" He asked him with a grin that could kill.
"No." I shook my head walking back over to my side of the bed. I threw my phone down on the bed and picked at my fingernails. "My dad had a heart attack."
I could hear Alex closing his notebook but didn't look up. I wasn't sure how to deliver news and make eye contact at the same time. "Is he okay? Are you okay?" He crawled across the bed and stood up beside me.
I dropped my hands and moved past him going to our dresser. "Yeah. No. He's fine for a guy who just had a heart attack. I mean, he'll live and all that." I hadn't realized that I started pacing back and forth across our bedroom. I would stop at our dresser but then I would keep moving.
"Good. Now. Jane. Sit," Alex instructed me.
I listened. He was my guide. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what I was doing. "I should go back home."
"Okay. I'll look for flights." He moved for my laptop, sat in my backpack on the floor. 
I stayed on the bed. "Should you?"
He looked up at me. I was looking at his eyes but I didn't even realize what was going on. I hadn't processed anything. I was busy facing the fact my parents could in fact die and that I also was not immortal. Alex wasn't sure what to do or what I wanted him to do. "Do you want me not to go?"
I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I should go."
Alex moved toward me on his knees. He stopped in front of me and leaned over my knees. "I think you should. At least for Stacey."
"Right." I’m not sure if I went for Stacey. She would have Greg and Harper, even my mother, for comfort. I’m not sure if I felt an obligation to go too. It seemed cruel not to show up after a medical emergency but since the move to America, I hadn’t seen them other than during Christmas. They had never visited me. They rarely called me. It made me think that if I didn’t show up they wouldn’t be that shocked. But I knew I wasn’t held to the same standard as them and having a heart attack is much more serious than anything I had going on.
We got into a taxi at some point but I think I was still trying to figure out if I was still in a dream or if we were in fact going to JFK Airport. Alex must have packed the suitcase because I don’t remember doing anything. I became a functioning human being around when we sat at our gate for about 15 minutes. The flight wasn't boarding for another hour. Alex had gotten me a coffee and a glazed donut for Dunkin' Donuts. He got a Boston Kreme and coffee for himself.
He sat with his hand on my knee as I scarfed down my donut as a form of something to do. I wiped my fingers on the napkin and leaned back in my chair with the warm coffee in my hand. "I broke my wrist when I was 10," I told Alex. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to speak. "I sat waiting for my mum to pick me up for over an hour. They finally decided to call my dad and he showed up in 15 minutes. Five minutes less than his drive from work to my school."
"I honestly wasn't expecting the story to go that way," Alex confessed. There’s a million untold stories from my childhood that Alex had never heard. They were tricky for me to go about.
I breathed a laugh, relieving the tension from both of us. "Neither was I. It was right after Tommy and I guess a broken wrist was one step away from being dead." Alex squeezed my thigh and I thought about Tommy. I hadn't thought about him in a while.
We sat together for a moment before Alex bit into his Boston Kreme. The cream smeared over his nose. I laughed, which pleased him even if I was mocking him. “It’s all over your face. You look like you can’t properly feed yourself.”
We boarded the flight and arrived in London a little after 6 PM. I fell asleep after take-off and didn't wake up until the jolt from landing. Alex stayed awake the whole time.
We took the train out to Bath and Greg would pick us up at the train station. Halfway through the train ride, I said to Alex, "Thanks."
He pushed my hair back and stroked my cheek. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been to Bath."
I laughed into the palm of his hand. "I'm glad this is working out for someone."
Visiting hours had ended about an hour before we arrived. The family report was that he was fine and Greg drove Alex and me back to the family home. We had dinner together where we mainly talked about my father. Alex and I went to bed after in a stripped-down guest room.
*
We had been in Bath for two days when Alex finally asked the question what I knew he had been thinking since we arrived. "Can we go on a drive?" My car had sat in my parents' garage since I drove it down when they moved. I'm sure they hated it being stuffed in their driveway but Alex was insistent on keeping it so I insisted to my parents to not get rid of it. For some reason, they didn't.
I didn't know much of Bath. Stacey told me she sometimes went to Henrietta Park with her friends so I decided we would drive there. Alex fiddled with things. The radio, the window, the glove compartment. He was trying to check if everything still worked. He missed this car more than I did. I rarely thought about it other than the remarks my mother would make over the rare phone calls that it was still sitting in the garage. 
Alex sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. "I love you."
I chuckled at the affection but replied, "Love you too."
He looked over at me. I could feel the stare but my eyes remained on the road. "Just getting to do this with you. I love it. I love that we've been in each other's lives for so long."
"Me too."
"We've been together long enough that when I sit here now I'm reminded of how much I loved you then. And, you know, how much I still love you now. More now."
My eyes hurt. I don't think I had cried since we'd been there. I felt overwhelmed by it all. But always him. I couldn't look at him for safety and emotional purposes. I loved him for being there and for being there for such a long time. He had always been my best friend. Even when I had just met him. Like fate. Soulmates or something. "Alex. I have to drive."
He chuckled. "Don't wreck the car now." He kissed my cheek.
*
a/n: well, there we go. i'm very into writing this right now so hopefully have another part soon. i'll probably do a one-off piece before. we shall see...
51 notes · View notes
what-raggedy-is-this · 3 months ago
Note
What was the Molly-E lawsuit?
mod antique doll may be better equipped to answer this question (she’s a bit of a raggedy history aficionado), but the simple answer is that after the volland company went out of business, the license to produce raggedy ann and andy dolls was essentially up for grabs. while johnny gruelle was busy negotiating a contract with the exposition company, a woman named molly-e goldman began marketing and selling her own raggedy ann and andy dolls without johnny’s permission. this led to a pretty intense legal battle between gruelle and goldman that actually resulted in gruelle’s death from a stress-induced heart attack in 1938. ultimately, though, the court case won in the gruelles’ favor, and while johnny’s widow myrtle went on to license the raggedy dolls to georgene (the exposition raggedy ann didn’t last very long, sadly), some aspects of the molly-e dolls carried over into later dolls, most notably the “i love you” heart on the dolls’ chest.
hopefully that answers your question!
~ 🐴
8 notes · View notes
mariacallous · 1 year ago
Text
After being ousted from the House of Representatives last week, ex-congressperson George Santos has officially joined Cameo, the platform famous for custom messages from celebrities and influencers.
Though Santos has not yet posted anything to his Cameo profile, it advertises a selection of personally recorded pep talks, “gossip,” roasts, and advice messages from Santos himself. These video messages, all promised to be delivered within 24 hours of an order, were initially priced at $75, but the cost has since increased to $200.
A former Santos staffer confirmed to WIRED today that the profile was real, and it is now linked on the former representative’s personal X account. Cameo did not immediately respond to a request for comment.
After winning his Long Island congressional election last year, Santos encountered problems when the North Shore Leader and The New York Times reported that he had allegedly lied about his finances and much of his personal background, including where he went to college and the claim that he had worked for Goldman Sachs. More absurd lies were uncovered, involving claims that his mother had died as a result of 9/11 (she didn’t) and that Santos was the star of Baruch College’s volleyball team (he wasn’t, and he didn’t attend Baruch).
In May, Santos was charged on multiple federal counts of money laundering, identity theft, and theft of public funds. He is set to face trial next September.
Despite these charges, Santos wasn’t expelled until after the House Ethics Committee finished its own investigation in November and claimed that he had misused thousands of dollars in campaign donations. The report said that Santos spent $50,000 in campaign funds to pay off personal debts and made other unlawful purchases, like subscribing to creators on OnlyFans. Representative Max Miller (R-Ohio) has also accused Santos of defrauding him and his mother by charging their personal credit cards.
Santos isn’t the first politician to join the ranks of Chuck Norris, Tay Zonday, and Brian Baumgartner (of The Office fame) on Cameo: Former Alaska governor Sarah Palin and political consultant Roger Stone have their own profiles, both touting nearly five star ratings.
The Biden campaign also experimented with Cameo in the past. In 2020, the campaign partnered with the platform to allow participating celebrities, like Andy Cohen, Mandy Moore, and Melissa Etheridge, to earmark portions of their earnings as donations, according to The Verge.
Until Santos goes to trial, it’s impossible to know whether his donors will ever claw back the money allegedly stolen from them. But unlike Santos’ reported donor fraud, Cameo has a money-back guarantee for scams.
25 notes · View notes
alexlacquemanne · 1 year ago
Text
2023 in 12 movies (1 per months)
January
The Horse Whisperer (1998) directed by Robert Redford with Robert Redford, Kristin Scott Thomas, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Neil, Chris Cooper and Cherry Jones
[First Time]
Tumblr media
February
L'Horloger de Saint-Paul (1974) directed by Bertrand Tavernier with Philippe Noiret, Jean Rochefort, Jacques Denis, Yves Afonso, Julien Bertheau and Jacques Hilling
[First Time]
Tumblr media
March
The Fabelmans (2022) directed by Steven Spielberg with Gabriel LaBelle, Michelle Williams, Paul Dano, Seth Rogen, Keeley Karsten, Julia Butters and Judd Hirsch
[First Time]
Tumblr media
April
The Third Man (1949) directed by Carol Reed with Joseph Cotten, Alida Valli, Orson Welles, Trevor Howard and Bernard Lee
[First Time]
Tumblr media
May
The World, The Flesh and the Devil (1959) directed by Ranald MacDougall with Harry Belafonte, Inger Stevens and Mel Ferrer
[First Time]
Tumblr media
June
La ciociara (1960) directed by Vittorio De Sica with Sophia Loren, Eleonora Brown, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Carlo Ninchi, Andrea Checchi and Pupella Maggio
[First Time]
Tumblr media
July
Oppenheimer (2023) directed by Christopher Nolan with Cillian Murphy, Robert Downey Jr., Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Florence Pugh, Josh Hartnett and Casey Affleck
[First Time]
Tumblr media
August
Heat (1995) directed by Michael Mann with Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, Diane Venora, Amy Brenneman, Dennis Haysbert, Donald Breedan and Ashley Judd
[First Time]
Tumblr media
September
Catch Me If You Can (2002) directed by Steven Spielberg with Leonardo DiCaprio, Tom Hanks, Christopher Walken, Nathalie Baye, Amy Adams, Martin Sheen, James Brolin and Brian Howe
[First Time]
Tumblr media
October
Le Grand Bain (2018) directed by Gilles Lellouche with Mathieu Amalric, Guillaume Canet, Benoît Poelvoorde, Jean-Hugues Anglade, Philippe Katerine, Félix Moati, Alban Ivanov, Balasingham Thamilchelvan, Virginie Efira et Leïla Bekhti
[First Time]
Tumblr media
November
Fools Rush In (1997) directed by Andy Tennant with Matthew Perry, Salma Hayek, Jon Tenney, Carlos Gómez, Tomás Milián, Siobhan Fallon et John Bennett Perry
[First Time]
Tumblr media
December
The Great Race (1965) directed by Blake Edwards with Tony Curtis, Natalie Wood, Jack Lemmon, Peter Falk, Keenan Wynn et Ross Martin
[First Time]
Tumblr media
Honourable Mentions :
Airplane! (1980)
Duel (1972)
Les Sentiments (2003)
The Carpetbaggers (1964)
Scoop (2006)
Mon crime (2023)
To Have and Have Not (1944)
The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)
臥虎藏龍 (2000)
The Glenn Miller Story (1954)
Le Dernier Voyage (2020)
Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid (1982)
L'ingorgo (1979)
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
Adieu Gary (2008)
Conflict (1945)
Fahrenheit 451 (1966)
La Nuit américaine (1973)
Sorcerer (1977)
La Guerre des polices (1979)
Life of Pi (2012)
The Big Short (2015)
Le Hussard sur le toit (1995)
Excalibur (1981)
The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988)
Bridget Jones’s Diary (2001)
Le Procès Goldman (2023)
Enter the Dragon (1973)
Matrimonio all'italiana (1964)
Chaplin (1992)
La Vie de château (1966)
Escape from Alcatraz (1979)
Au-delà des grilles (1949)
Second Tour (2023)
Le Couteau dans la plaie (1962)
The Eiger Sanction (1975)
JFK (1991)
Le Fugitif (1993)
Chef (2014)
Quai des Orfèvres (1947)
Appointment with Death (1988)
Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (2004)
Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005)
River of No Return (1954)
L'Assassinat du père Noël (1941)
Dances with Wolves (1990)
Die Glasbläserin (2016)
The Lion in Winter (1968)
Les Mystères de Paris (1962)
13 notes · View notes
nathanparisi · 24 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Il y a 47 ans, le 30 novembre 1977, Les Aventures de Bernard et Bianca, le 23ème long métrage d'animation Disney sortait sur les écrans en France.
Ce film marque la transition entre l'ancienne et la nouvelle génération d'animateurs Disney plus tard à l'œuvre sur la Renaissance Disney.
Don Bluth dirige l'animation au coté d'Ollie Johnston, Frank Thomas et Milt Kahl et les jeunes talents dont Gary Goldman, John Pomeroy, Andy Gaskill, Ron Clements et Glen Keane font leur débuts.
Bernard et Bianca dépasse Star Wars en France se classant numéro un de 1977 à la grande surprise du box-office français.
47 years ago, on November 30, 1977, The Rescuers, the 23rd Disney animated feature film, was released on screens in France.
This film marks the transition between the old and new generation of Disney animators later working on the Disney Renaissance.
Don Bluth directs the animation alongside Ollie Johnston, Frank Thomas and Milt Kahl and young talents including Gary Goldman, John Pomeroy, Andy Gaskill, Ron Clements and Glen Keane make their debut as animators.
The Rescuers surpasses Star Wars in France, ranking number one in 1977, to the great surprise of the French box office.
2 notes · View notes
ruinedsoulsrp · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
All the October Birthdays!
Hit the heart for a starter from one or two of these birthday month muses and I'll come to you for preference!
5th - Ana Lawrence
13th - Andy Goldman
13th - Tony Goldman
14th - Jack Williams
29th - Jimmy Hall
4 notes · View notes
gregdotorg · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In November 2013 Malaysian megafraudster Jho Low used one of the hundreds of millions of dollars he diverted from a Goldman Sachs bond offering to buy Andy Warhol's Round Jackie (1964), at Sotheby's. He then gave it to Swizz Beatz, who turned it over to the Feds in 2020, who auctioned it off in 2021.
images: Andy Warhol, Round Jackie, 1964, silkscreen on gold paint on linen, 17.75 in., sold at Sotheby's in Nov. 2013; Round Jackie unboxing at the US Marshals auction at Gaston & Sheehan, TX, in Feb. 2021.
3 notes · View notes
randommirandyfics · 1 year ago
Note
Hi, I'm back here again to ask about a fanfic that takes place AFTER Paris and Andy is a famous person in the fashion world, she also has a daughter. I remember some details:
• Nobody knows her identity, she is a designer
• If I'm not mistaken, she lives in Paris and meets Emily, who sees documents (drafts) in her bag and tells Nigel what she discovered.
• Nigel thinks people call Miranda the Ice Queen, but he understands why they call Andy the Fire Queen or something like that
• Andy is really cruel
Unfortunately it's not the one where Andy calls herself Dreya, but it has the same style. I lost this fanfic many months ago, afraid it had been deleted.
Dreya's fanfic: The Miraculous Discovery Of Dreya Goldman
(・・?)
8 notes · View notes
edgessunflower · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Welcome to our prompt list! @romanthereigns 🫶🏻
⚠️ Give us credits if you use any prompts! ⚠️
✧ “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies”- Andy Dufresne, Shawshank Redemption
✧ "You'll have bad times, but that'll wake you up to the good stuff you weren't paying attention to" - Sean Maguire, Good Will Hunting
✧ “I’ve just had the best summer of my life and now I have to go away, it isn’t fair” – Sandy, Grease
✧ "They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. What they don't tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up" - Edward Bloom, Big Fish
✧ “So it’s not gonna be easy, it’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me everyday” - Noah, The Notebook
✧ "We accept the love we think we deserve" - Mr Anderson, Perks of being a wallflower
✧ “And sometimes you love a person just because they feel like home” - Bridget Jones, Bridget Jones’ Diary
✧ "Something better than you? there isn't anything better than you" - Forney Hull, Where the heart is
✧ “I vow to love you, and no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find a way back to each other”-Leo, The Vow
✧ "I love you, I've always loved you" - Jenna Rink, 13 going on 30
✧ “But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all”- Kat Stratford, 10 Things I Hate About You
✧ "You were born into a family that doesn't always appreciate you, but one day things are gonna be very different" - Miss Honey, Matilda
✧ “I want to wake up with you beside me in the mornings, I want to spend my evenings looking at you across the dinner table, I want to share every mundane detail of my day with you and hear every detail of yours, I want to laugh with you and fall asleep with you in my arms”- Dawson Cole, The Best Of Me
✧ "I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone" - Arwen, Lord of the rings
✧ “You know the smallest thing can change a life. In the blink of an eye, something happens by chance-and when you least expect it-since we’re on a course that you could have never planned, into a future you never imagined”- Logan Thibault, The Lucky One
✧ "We get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds" - Sean Maguire, Good Will Hunting
✧ “Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been 5 kisses that were rated the most passionate-the most pure. This one left them all behind”- William Goldman, The Princess Bride
✧ "You deserve a guy who says I can't imagine a world without you in it" - Drew Baylor, Elizabethtown
✧ “You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down”- George Bailey, It’s A Wonderful Life
✧ "You is kind, you is smart, you is important" - Aibileen Clark, The Help
3 notes · View notes
astrophiliaxx · 6 months ago
Text
Do you think Andrea Sachs would have liked or cried to Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan?
Bare with me, alright. I am currently fixating on “The Miraculous Discovery of Dreya Goldman” by ArdentBenz ever since it was brought back up on Ao3. I already read it up to the latest update as of this moment which is chapter six.
I had Chappell Roan playing while I was reading the fanfic. To be more specific, I had Pink Pony Club played a couple times while I was reading it. Then, suddenly I thought of how it somewhat relates to Andy or Dreya. Hear me out.....
Before I go on, I would like to say that I will based on the movie and from the fanfic. If there are things that I have gotten wrong please do inform me.
I know you wanted me to stay
But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA
Why did Andy go to New York? Because she wanted to pursue being a journalist. She went to Runway for it to be like a stepping stone for her even if she does not read the magazine or even had the knowledge of how it works within the office before even stepping a foot into the building.
Won't make my mama proud
It's gonna cause a scene
She sees her baby girl
I know she's gonna scream
God, what have you done
If any of you remember or were able to read the fanfic before it was took down. There was a chapter where it has Andy and her parents after she left Paris. She comes out to them and one thing to lead to another. It ends up with the relationship that Andy has with her parents being broken.
I also think that it could also apply with them not being particularly happy with Andy changing due to her job.
Oh mama, I'm just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It's where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club
Andy obviously did not have that fun upon working at Runway. Though, as she further settles in her job. I think you could say that she stared to almost belong once she got the hang of it. Like would Miranda even choose her to accompany her to Paris if Andy did not adapt to her workplace? I don't think so. (Them screaming and being disappointed or not supportive)
Another thought incoming that suddenly popped into my brain just now at 12:46 am(but it's more a thought for the fanfic)
If you had not read the fanfic and don't want to be spoiled. I advised that you do not read this part because I will mention something that occured in the fanfic.
Won't make my mama proud
It's gonna cause a scene
She sees her baby girl
I know she's gonna scream
God, what have you done
You're a pink pony girl
And you dance at the club
Oh mama, I'm just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It's where I belong down at the
Pink Pony club
I think that if Andy's mother did not passed away and somehow she and her parents meet up(in some way they found out about Andy being Dreya Goldman). I think that that would have been a possible reaction.
Seeing her turned to the person that she's now. Seeing what once they know as Andrea “Andy” Sachs who is their daughter to Dreya Goldman, the Editor-In-Chief of Avante Garde: Runway. What once their daughter is now a stranger to them who now holds titles like The Antichrist. In fact, here is a paragraph from the fanfic.
“The epithets and the titles she’d acquired over time… The Devil in Chanel, The Antichrist, The Demon Queen on Floor Fifteen, The one WORSE than Miranda Priestly… They came with a good, well founded reason.”
(I like to think that it definitely pissed them off because of how much she's like Miranda.)
But what they don't know is that the publication that she saved from its doom. The ivory tower where art is made.
For Dreya, Avante Garde is her Pink Pony Club.
6 notes · View notes
ulmo80 · 1 year ago
Text
📚Books I've read in 2023📚
1. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. The Quiet Gentleman, Georgette Heyer
3. The Turn of the Screw, Henry James
4. The Book of Magic, Alice Hoffman
5. Abaddon's Gate, James S. A. Corey
6. The Blue Castle, L. M. Montgomery
7. Cibola Burn, James S. A. Corey
8. The Adventures of Pinocchio, Carlo Collodi
9. The Foundling, Georgette Heyer
10. Hamlet, William Shakespeare
11. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Jules Verne
12. Dangerous Women, Anthology Edited by George R. R. Martin
13. Artemis, Andy Weir
14. The Miserable Mill, Lemony Snicket
15. The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
16. The Last Olympian, Rick Riordian
17. Gerald's Game, Stephen King
18. Mirror in the Mirror: A Labyrinth, Michael Ende
19. The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
20. Nemesis Games, James S. A. Corey
21. Harrow the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir
22. The Austere Academy, Lemony Snicket
23. Rogues, Anthology Edited by George R. R. Martin
24. Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad
25. Babylon's Ashes, James S. A. Corey
26. Arabella, Georgette Heyers
27. The Ersatz Elevator, Lemony Snicket
28. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood
29. Nona the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir
30. The Vile Village, Lemony Snicket
31. The Hostile Hospital, Lemony Snicket
32. Fire and Blood, George R.R. Martin
33. Anne of Ingleside, L. M. Montgomery
34. Rainbow Valley, L. m. Montgomery
35. The Carnivorous Carnival, Lemony Snicket
36. Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency, Douglas Adams
37. Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen
38. The Slippery Slope, Lemony Snicket
39. The Magic Mountain, Thomas Mann
40. The Grim Grotto, Lemony Snicket
41. Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir
42. A Civil Contract, Georgette Heyer
43. The Penultimate Peril, Lemony Snicket
44. The End, Lemony Snicket
45. The Angel of Darkness, Caleb Carr
46. Y colocín, colorado... Tú, David Safier
47. The Hitchshiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
48. The Chestnut Man, Søren Sveistrup
49. El Juego del Ángel (The Angel's Game), Carlos Ruiz Zafón
50. The Prison of Freedom, Michael Ende
51. Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart, Chrétien de Troyes and Godefroi de Leigni
52. A Room with a View, E. M. Foster
53. A Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole
54. La Cocinera de Castamar (The Cook of Castamar), Fernando J. Núñez
55. Sleeping Beauties, Stephen King & Owen King
56. Love Among the Chickens, P. G. Wodehouse
57. The King's Man, Elizabeth Kingston
58. 1984, George Orwell
59. My family and other animals, Gerald Durrell
60. The Princess Bride, William Goldman
61. Birds, Beasts and Relatives, Gerald Durrrell
62. The Garden of the Gods, Gerald Durrell
63. Dead Until Dark, Charlaine Harris
64. Living Dead in Dallas, Charlaine Harris
65. Club Dead, Charlaine Harris
66. Rivers of London, Ben Aaronovitch
67. Dead to the World, Charlaine Harris
68. Dead as a Doornail, Charlaine Harris
69. Definitely Dead, Charlaine Harris
70. All Together Dead, Charlaine Harris
71. From Dead to Worse, Charlaine Harris
72. Dead and Gone, Charlaine Harris
73. Moon Over Soho, Ben Aaronovitch
74. Dead in the Family, Charlaine Harris
75. A Touch of Dead, Charlaine Harris
76. Kiki's Delivery Service, Eiko Kadono
77. Whispers Under Ground, Ben Aaronovitch
78. The Inimitable Jeeves, P. G. Wodehouse
79. Persepolis Rising, James S. A. Corey
80. Cranford, Elizabeth Gaskell
81. El Silencio del Asesino, Concha López Narváez. I read it because one of my students asked me. She had to read it for school (she's in 9nth grade), and want for me to explain her the end because she got confussed and doubted her reading comprhension. It's a murder mystery withouth the mystery, omniscient narrator that's a jumping POV, and the cheapest plot twists at the end. It was painful, a mess. Poor girl, of course she was confussed.
82. Drive, James S. A. Corey
83. The Churn, James S. A. Corey
84. The Butcher of Anderson Station, James S. A. Corey
85. The Last Flight of the Cassandra, James S. A Corey
86. Tiamat's Wrath, James S. A. Corey
87. Gods of Risk, James S. A. Corey
88. The Vital Abyss, James S. A. Corey
89. Strange Dogs, James S. A. Corey
90. Auberon, James S. A. Corey
91. Cotillion, Georgette Heyer
92. The Great Gastby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
3 notes · View notes
claudia1829things · 1 year ago
Text
Favorite Costume Movie and Television Productions Set During CHRISTMAS
Tumblr media
Below is a list of my favorite costume movie and television productions set during the Christmas holidays. The list is in chronological order:
FAVORITE COSTUME MOVIE AND TELEVISION PRODUCTIONS SET DURING CHRISTMAS
Tumblr media
1. "Three Godfathers" (1936) - Richard Boleslawski directed this seventh movie adaptation of Peter B. Kyne's 1913 novel about three bank robbers who become godfathers to a newborn child of a dying mother, after robbing a bank in 19th century Arizona. The movie starred Chester Morris, Lewis Stone and Walter Brennan.
Tumblr media
2. "The Lion in the Winter" (1968) - Peter O'Toole and Oscar winner Katherine Hepburn starred in this movie adaptation of James Goldman's 1966 Broadway play about the personal and political conflicts of Henry II of England, his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, their children and guests during Christmas 1183. Directed by Anthony Harvey, the movie co-starred Anthony Hopkins, Timothy Dalton, John Castle and Nigel Terry.
Tumblr media
3. "A Christmas Story" (1983) - Melinda Dillon, Darren McGavin, and Peter Billingsley starred in this acclaimed adaptation of Jean Shepherd's 1966 book, "In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash". Bob Clark directed.
Tumblr media
4. "A Christmas Carol" (1984) - George C. Scott starred as Ebenezer Scrooge in this television adaptation of Charles Dickens' 1843 novella. The television movie was directed by Clive Donner.
Tumblr media
5. "Hercule Poirot's Christmas" (1994-1995) - David Suchet starred as Hercule Poirot in this television adaptation of Agatha Christie's 1938 novel in which the Belgian detective investigates the murder of a multi-millionaire during the Christmas holiday. Directed by Edward Bennett, Philip Jackson co-starred.
Tumblr media
6. "Nero Wolfe - (1.07) "Christmas Party" (2001) - Maury Chaykin and Timothy Hutton starred in this adaptation of Rex Stout's 1957 novella, "The Christmas-Party Murder", about detective Nero Wolfe and his assistant Archie Goodwin's investigation of wealthy furniture designer's murder at a Christmas party. Holly Dale directed.
Tumblr media
7. "4.50 From Paddington aka What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw" (2004) - Geraldine McEwan starred in this television adaptation of Agatha Christie's 1957 novel about Miss Jane Marple's investigation of a murder briefly witnessed by an old friend aboard a train. Directed by Andy Wilson, the television movie co-starred John Hannah, Pam Ferris and David Warner.
Tumblr media
8. "The Last Tycoon - (1.06) "A Brady-American Christmas" (2017) - This holiday episode was featured in the television adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's 1941 unfinished novel about 1930s Hollywood. Created by Billy Ray, the television series starred Matt Bomer, Lily Collins and Kelsey Grammer.
Tumblr media
9. "The Man Who Invented Christmas" (2017) - Dan Stevens starred as Charles Dickens in this movie adaption of Les Standiford's 2008 book about the author's creation of his 1843 novella, "A Christmas Carol". The movie was directed by Bharat Nalluri.
Tumblr media
10. "Victoria" - (2.09) "Comfort and Joy" - This holiday episode aired as finale for Season Two of the ITV series, "VICTORIA", which re-counted Queen Victoria's early years on the throne, between 1837 and 1851. Created by Daisy Goodwin, the series starred Jenna Coleman and Tom Hughes as Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
sometimesigif · 2 years ago
Text
⬇️ Tag drop ⬇️
Actors & Actresses
al st john
alan tudyk
aleksandr demyanenko
aleksandr trofimov
aleksei kuznetsov
alexandra yakovleva
alice lake
alice mann
alisa freindlich
alla demidova
anastasiya vertinskaya
anita page
andy whitfield
anne cornwall
barbara brylska
bartine burkett
ben barns
beulah booker
brown eyes
bruno ganz
buster keaton
conrad veidt
dmitri zolotukhin
dorothy christy
dorothy sebastian
edward norton
ekaterina savinova
eleanor keaton
evgeniy leonov
heath ledger
igor starygin
inna churikova
innokenty smoktunovsky
irene purcell
irina alfyorova
ivan pyryev
jack black
jason isaacs
joe keaton
joe roberts
karin boyd
kate beckinsale
kate price
kathleen myers
kathryn mcguire
klara luchko
klaus maria brandauer
larisa guzeeva
linda hamilton
liv tyler
luciena ovchinnikova
luke the dog
lyudmila gurchenko
marceline day
margaret leahy
margarita terekhova
marina dyuzheva
marion byron
marion mack
mikhail boyarsky
mikhail kozakov
mona maris
nadezhda rumyantseva
naomi watts
natalie talmadge
natalya krachkovskaya
natalya seleznyova
natalya varley
nora arnezeder
norman reedus
oleg menshikov
oleg tabakov
orson welles
paul bettany
paulette dubost
peter falk
phyllis barry
phyllis haver
renee adoree
rosalind byrne
roscoe arbuckle
ruth dwyer
ruth selwyn
sally eilers
sally o'neil
snitz edwards
sofiko chiaureli
sofiya pilyavskaya
sybil seely
tatyana lyutaeva
thelma todd
tilda swinton
tom hiddleston
valentin smirnitsky
veniamin smekhov
virginia fox
whitney houston
yanina zheymo
yelena ukrashchyonok
yuriy yakovlev
Characters
anne of austria
aramis
assol
athos
bagheera
baloo
buckingham
cardinal richelieu
constance bonacieux
d'artagnan
daryl dixon
edward rochester
geoffrey chaucer
grigori rasputin
king louis xiii
laura lyons
milady de winter
mowgli
peter the great
porthos
raksha
sarah connor
shere khan
van helsing
Origin
american cinema
american tv show
austrian cinema
barbie movies
behind the scenes
czech cinema
french cinema
german cinema
hungarian cinema
other peoplez edits
russian animation
russian cinema
silent cinema
soviet animation
soviet cinema
soyuzmultfilm
Directors
adolf trotz
aleksandr ptushko
aleksandr sery
alexander rowe
aleksey korenev
alla surikova
andrei tarkovsky
brian helgeland
don bluth
edward sedgwick
eldar ryazanov
gary goldman
georgi yungvald-khilkevich
gleb panfilov
igor maslennikov
istván szabó
james cameron
jim jarmusch
kirill mikhanovsky
leonid gaidai
mikhail shapiro
mikhail tsekhanovsky
nadezhda kosheverova
owen hurley
peter jackson
robert stevenson
sergey gerasimov
stephen sommers
svetlana druzhinina
vadim medzhibovskiy
vera tsekhanovskaya
vladimir menshov
wim wenders
Time Periods
1910s
1920s
1930s
1940s
1950s
1960s
1970s
1980s
1990s
2000s
2010s
Films & Shows
a cruel romance
a knight's tale
a man from boulevard des capucines
adventures of mowgli
anastasia
at the beginning of glorious days
back stage
barbie as rapunzel
barbie as the princess & the pauper
barbie in the 12 dancing princesses
barbie in the nutcracker
barbie of swan lake
battling butler
carnival night
cinderella 1947
clever dog sonya
college
coney island
convict 13
cops
d'artagnan and the three musketeers
dämen der frauen
daydreams
der himmel über berlin
doughboys
for family reasons
free and easy
gentlemen of fortune
give me liberty
go west
good night nurse!
hard luck
high sign
his wedding night
ivan vasilievich changes occupation
jane eyre 1943
le roi des champs-élysées
look for a woman
love and doves
maugli
midshipmen onwards!
mirror
moonshine
morozko
my wife's relations
musketeers twenty years after
neigbors
oh doctor!
one week
only lovers left alive
operation y and shurik's other adventures
our hospitality
out west
parlor bedroom and bath
pokrov gates
prince of foxes
prisoner of the caucasus or shurik's new adventures
scarlet sails
seven chances
sherlock jr
sidewalks of new york
spartacus: blood and sand
spartacus: gods of the arena
speak easily
spite marriage
steamboat bill jr
sweet november
terminator 2: judgement day
the adventures of sherlock holmes and doctor watson
the balloonatic
the beginning
the bell boy
the blacksmith
the boat
the bodyguard
the butcher boy
the cameraman
the cook
the electric house
the fellowhip of the ring
the frozen north
the garage
the general
the girls
the goat
the haunted house
the hayseed
the holiday
the hound of the baskervilles
the incredible hulk
the irony of fate or enjoy your bath!
the kuban cossacks
the lord of the rings
the love nest
the navigator
the painted veil
the paleface
the passionate plumber
the rough house
the saphead
the scarecrow
the walking dead
the wild swans
the words
this is your life
three ages
van helsing
watch out for the automobile
what - no beer?
wings of desire
young russia
7 notes · View notes