Birthdays Quote #6662715
all quotes · birthdays · spoonfulofsugar · midweek · school ·

Mid-week birthdays always suck.

4 Comments

DumbRedhead 1 decade ago

HAPPY BIRTHDAY c:

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247dreamer 1 decade ago

Happy Birthday!

reply 0

lovecrazy 1 decade ago

Happy birthday, beautiful. Have a great day.

reply 0

ShesLettingMeLiveWithMyDemons 1 decade ago

Happy Birthday, love. I hope you have a wonderful day!

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SpoonfulOfSugar

posted March 6, 2013 at 11:30am UTC tagged with birthdays, spoonfulofsugar, midweek, school

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Give Me Love ~chapter 1~ I am waiting in fromt of a resteraunt in London, a couple blocks from my flat. I'm rather impatient. It took me two hours to get ready fro this dinner with Ed. He told me he booked a reservation at a super fancy resteraunt, so I tied my black hair in a bun and put on my best classy-but-still-sexy party dress. C'mon Ed, come on! I think, because it seems like I've been waiting here for hours, and these heels are starting to bother me. I check my watch. I'm still 5 minutes early. Dammit! I keep watching and finally I see a read head bobbing towards me. I can tell he tried to dress up; he has a pair of not-so-distressed jeans on with a hole in only one knee, and he has a tee shirt on, but he threw on a blazer over top, and he looks pertty dressy for a guy who usually wears hoodies. His hair seems extra messed up in cute way. As I watch, he runs a hand through his hair and looks up from his feet. "Mitch! You look gorgeous," he tells me. I don't know why, since I've been living in England for 6 months now, but his accent catches me off guard and I feel the "protection wall" as Janie calls it, falling down in pieces. "Thanks, Ed. You look quite smashing yourself." I think I see him blush. He opens the door for the resteraunt. "After you, my bird." "Why thank you, sir," I say, grinning as I walk in. He gently guides me with his hand on the small of my back. Normally, I find this gesture creepy, probably because only creepy people have done it to me. However, when he touches me, I feel sparks, and it feels really fantastic. We are seated at a table. The first thing the waiter asks is if I would like wine. It seems strange to me, yet I have to remind myself that I'm in England and I'm 18, so I'm legally old enough to have wine. I don't go out much. "Something red and sweet," I say. "Yes, madame," the waiter replies, sauntering off. "So what is this whole marriage thing?" I ask Ed, and I think he's been wondering the same thing. "Honestly, I have no idea. I've been asking myself all day, 'Bloody hell, what have I done?' But when I saw you again, I wasn't so afraid anymore," he says. "I've been thinking the same. What I decided is that we need some guide lines, or basic rule we're going to abide by, if we're going to say we're going to get married, or we're engaged," i reply. "Like what?" he asks. "Like, we need some time to make sure we could spend the rest of our lives with each other, that we like each other enough to get married," I say. He seems a little less confused. "So it's like an arranged marriage," he confirms. "Yeah. We got ourselves into an arranged marriage," I say. "You prompted the question," he tells me. "I know. But you didn't have to ask," I reply. "But you made me curious," he says. "You don't have to give into your curisoity," I tell him. This game is fun, and most of the time, I win. "Okay. Fine. So what if we set a 'time limit' sort of thing. That's the wrong word. But we could look at how things are going in, say, 6 months, and then we'll check to see if we want to wait longer, call it off, or go ahead with the plans of getting married," he suggests. "That sounds perfect. I'm so excited! What sgould we refert to each other as? Like, girlfriend-boyfriend or fiance or man-friend - woman-friend?" I ask. "I think fiance. Afterall, we are planning on getting married, are we not?" he asks, smiling. "We are. I really like you, Ed. you're so sweet," I tell him. The waiter brings me my wine and a beer for Ed. "Cheers!" I say. "To us!" **authors note: so thanks for reading. i hope you all enjoy! let me know who reads by likes and comments on what you like and stuff, and i can notify if you want, just comment below! THANKS FOR READING!!**

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I hate when your Birthday's coming up & people say "Oh I'll get you a present, what do you want?" like I know you're not going to get me anything. Stop pretending. & I hate having a birthday on a school day and a bunch of people wish me a happy birthday by hearing other people say it. Like please stop, I know you don't care that today's my birthday. It's no different than yesterday, or tomorrow.
please do not break my heart. i think its had enough pain to last the rest of my life.
help. I can’t see it hurts so badly my world is falling down in shreds around my head. it is killing me slowly eat away at me tearing out my humanity until all I feel is nothing wishing to sleep and never wake up wishing a thought would come through wishing someone would call wake up! wake up! but no call comes lost stranded helpless alone afraid ALONE trying struggling cutting? what’s that one scrape two scratch try to feel something three bloody scratches -what’s that on your ankle your hip your arm what does that say? my arm flys to cover the space between my hand and my elbow but for some reason even my hand isn’t big enough to hide the pain tears cuts blood one scratch somebody save me two scratch see past my smile and into my eyes you’ll see the pain there three scratch I just want to feel something anything. see past that smile SEE me don’t just look at me because it doesn’t count somebody notice somebody care somebody help me before i break
Give Me Love ~chapter 1~ I am waiting in fromt of a resteraunt in London, a couple blocks from my flat. I'm rather impatient. It took me two hours to get ready fro this dinner with Ed. He told me he booked a reservation at a super fancy resteraunt, so I tied my black hair in a bun and put on my best classy-but-still-sexy party dress. C'mon Ed, come on! I think, because it seems like I've been waiting here for hours, and these heels are starting to bother me. I check my watch. I'm still 5 minutes early. Dammit! I keep watching and finally I see a read head bobbing towards me. I can tell he tried to dress up; he has a pair of not-so-distressed jeans on with a hole in only one knee, and he has a tee shirt on, but he threw on a blazer over top, and he looks pertty dressy for a guy who usually wears hoodies. His hair seems extra messed up in cute way. As I watch, he runs a hand through his hair and looks up from his feet. "Mitch! You look gorgeous," he tells me. I don't know why, since I've been living in England for 6 months now, but his accent catches me off guard and I feel the "protection wall" as Janie calls it, falling down in pieces. "Thanks, Ed. You look quite smashing yourself." I think I see him blush. He opens the door for the resteraunt. "After you, my bird." "Why thank you, sir," I say, grinning as I walk in. He gently guides me with his hand on the small of my back. Normally, I find this gesture creepy, probably because only creepy people have done it to me. However, when he touches me, I feel sparks, and it feels really fantastic. We are seated at a table. The first thing the waiter asks is if I would like wine. It seems strange to me, yet I have to remind myself that I'm in England and I'm 18, so I'm legally old enough to have wine. I don't go out much. "Something red and sweet," I say. "Yes, madame," the waiter replies, sauntering off. "So what is this whole marriage thing?" I ask Ed, and I think he's been wondering the same thing. "Honestly, I have no idea. I've been asking myself all day, 'Bloody hell, what have I done?' But when I saw you again, I wasn't so afraid anymore," he says. "I've been thinking the same. What I decided is that we need some guide lines, or basic rule we're going to abide by, if we're going to say we're going to get married, or we're engaged," i reply. "Like what?" he asks. "Like, we need some time to make sure we could spend the rest of our lives with each other, that we like each other enough to get married," I say. He seems a little less confused. "So it's like an arranged marriage," he confirms. "Yeah. We got ourselves into an arranged marriage," I say. "You prompted the question," he tells me. "I know. But you didn't have to ask," I reply. "But you made me curious," he says. "You don't have to give into your curisoity," I tell him. This game is fun, and most of the time, I win. "Okay. Fine. So what if we set a 'time limit' sort of thing. That's the wrong word. But we could look at how things are going in, say, 6 months, and then we'll check to see if we want to wait longer, call it off, or go ahead with the plans of getting married," he suggests. "That sounds perfect. I'm so excited! What sgould we refert to each other as? Like, girlfriend-boyfriend or fiance or man-friend - woman-friend?" I ask. "I think fiance. Afterall, we are planning on getting married, are we not?" he asks, smiling. "We are. I really like you, Ed. you're so sweet," I tell him. The waiter brings me my wine and a beer for Ed. "Cheers!" I say. "To us!" **authors note: so thanks for reading. i hope you all enjoy! let me know who reads by likes and comments on what you like and stuff, and i can notify if you want, just comment below! THANKS FOR READING!!**