Turner Classic Movies is probably the only reason I pay for premium HD cable... other than the CW for Supernatural and BBC America for Doctor Who that comes as often as a lunar eclipse... but that's a different post.
Anyway, I've been a TCM junkie for epochs now. Writing in that old-timey Fred-and-Ginger, Comden-and-Greenesque style is fun and refreshing. Sometimes, a girl just needs that adorable innocent lust of a Cary Grant or a Gregory Peck to brighten her daydreams.
"They Laughed At Me Wanting You" December 10, 2005
Strolling through the gardens in the late afternoon, the sky is painted cheddar orange and flamingo pink as the sun lays itself to rest. A light, cool breeze rustles the palms, the ferns, and helps the gardenias and marigolds release their scents. Little parakeets flit from branch to branch, chirping their incessantly adorable chatter. I'd be noticing all these beautiful things if Cary weren't silently following at my heels. I throw stray glances over my shoulder, catching his feigned look of contented distraction, and I'm sure he's only gazing at me whenever I look away. We reach the zen rock and I climb up without a word to take my usual seat while Cary remains on the ground, leaning casually against the sun-warmed stone as he looks up at me with a slight smile. His eyes are narrowed, as if analyzing me through a microscope, but they're filled with everything that never came between us in the past. I look away, studying the sharp contrasts between the colored bands of clouds and sunlight above us. "A pound for your thoughts," Cary says softly, tapping my knee. I look down at him and grin. "I'm not sure they're worth a whole pound." "Yes, you're probably right," he mutters. "How about a fiver?" I laugh and grab the hand that tickled my knee, rubbing it like a rabbit's foot. "I'm thinking that I can't wait to lay down for the night. I'm exhausted and can't wait for tomorrow when I can go shopping and see my Connie." "Oh that wasn't worth a peso," Cary scoffs, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Half a centavo for your thoughts." "Let's get married." "I want my money back." "Oh darling, just give the idea a chance. Let it sit on the front burner a bit and see that it boils." "What on earth do you mean?" "It's a hot issue, and a good one at that-" "Deary, I've had many a memorable encounter at this very rock with various men of mine and... that tells me there's quite a queue for my affections." "But I've been on that queue for over three years," he says, squeezing both my hands between his. "But suddenly, you've never been more in love with me. Why tease ourselves now and not then?" I take a deep breath, unable to hide my smile at his perseverance. "I guess I've grown up a bit. After meeting you, then meeting so many others, now I truly appreciate your charm, your wit, your purity." Cary reaches up and presses his finger to my nose. "Right on the money, my dear." He holds out his arms and says, "Now come down from there and at the very least give me a proper hug." I slide down and he gently places me on my feet as I stare up into his eyes. Then I stand on my tiptoes and throw my arms up around his neck. As he embraces me around my waist, I feel the flaps of his jacket slightly surround me, and I'm engulfed by his warmth. And despite all his talk of betrothal, he leaves only a chaste kiss on my lips, but a mischievous smile comes on the side.