@postaday 189; #postaday2011.
Bless his heart, but spouse John has endured my silly starstruckedness when it comes to Hollywood icons. I’m so over John Mayer, and that’s his own fault. How could someone so young be able to write and sing about things only more seasoned hearts would suffer? And then, how is it he is the master of romantic roadkill? It doesn’t add up. Still, the whole family listens to his music, which is really, really good. I just wish his heart strings would align with his guitar riffs.
I am so looking forward to the next installment of Harry Potter, “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,” simply so I can pay to sit next to my family and gaze at Alan Rickman as Severus Snape for a couple of hours without interruption. Of course I’m intrigued by the rest of the story and characters, but let’s face it: there are always little delights in “kids” movies for parents. This just so happens to be mine. Someone else might want to ogle Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix LeStrange. John denies that would be him.
I’d pay to hear Alan Rickman read the dictionary. Fortunately, his filmography is plentiful and he’s still getting work. So happy I’ll get to sigh at the big screen, or the little one at home, courtesy of Netflix.
One of my Alan Rickman favorites? “Truly, Madly, Deeply.”
Nina: Tell me about the first night we spent together.
Jamie: Why? Seriously? You want me to?
Nina: [nods] What did we do?
Jamie: We talked.
Nina: What else?
Jamie: Well, talking was the major component. You played that piano. Then I played, then we both played… something – duet – something… can’t remember. And then you danced for about three hours, until I fell asleep. But you were fantastic. And then we had some corn flakes. And when we kissed, which was about 11 o’clock the following morning, we were trembling so much we couldn’t take off our clothes.
Cue my deep sigh, as I reach for John’s hand…