December 31, 1932 - Saturday

After an almost unbearable ride on the train and a delay that made us an hour and a half late, I finally got to my George. We came home, I cleaned up and George fixed me a dinner. And now it is 1933.

December 30, 1932 - Friday

On the awful old train again. I was on the train between Glendale and Redding twelve hours from 8:30am to 8:30 pm and now I am on the Klamath headed for Portland and George. It has been hot and uncomfortable.

December 29, 1932 - Thursday

After I dressed this morning I packed my robe. After lunch Eleanor and I read. At four I went over to Mrs. Earl’s to tea. Home and changed and to the Symphony with Bill. Then packed to leave tomorrow at 8:30.

Dearest George,

This is the last letter that I will write to you from here. Isn’t that exciting? I will mail it tomorrow and then the day after that I will be on that awful old train for an uncomfortable ride that will end so happily. It will be even more uncomfortable than it was coming down because there will be the surprise. I don’t know whether I can stand it or not. When you meet me at the station I am afraid I will be a pretty sight. I will be worn to a frazil with suspense and excitement. I will have chewed all my lipstick off and my hat will probably be on at a very peculiar angel. It will be test of your love if you can accept me in that condition and in front of all the people in the station. Dear, please don’t wear a hat because I should hate to not see you right away. I might overlook you in my excitement if I couldn’t see your blond head in the crowd. Let’s see in 72 hours I will be in your arms.

O, dear, I am getting excited already.  Seventy-two hours is still a horribly long time tho’.  There, be still my fluttering hear (Don’t tell me I never took poetry).

O, George look at all this nonsense I have written. Just think of the terrible state I will be in when you finally meet me at the station. You had better take some chloroform along to the station in case you can’t handle me. I warn you I am going to be a danger to your driving. As you have probably gathered, dear, I am so anxious to see you. I got your two airmail letters today and now that makes nine treasurers that I have locked away in the top of my suit case. I told everyone of them, dear. I am afraid mine haven’t been very satisfactory because the writing is so terrible and the spelling is worse if that is possible. I couldn’t have stood the separation if it hadn’t been for the letters. I get terribly blue as it is. With your letters I got a picture of Doro which is just darling. It has been wandering around Pasadena for sometime because the address was 499 instead of 449. It is the position that I liked best. I wonder if she gave Jean one.

This afternoon I went on a tour of inspection. Mrs. Williams and I went out to Claremont. It takes about forty minutes to get out there. We had lunch with some friends of Mrs. Williams and then in the afternoon they took us all over the Panorama and Script campus.  I wasn’t very impressed with Panorama campus but it is still young and from all they say destined to go far. They have a beautiful auditorium however. Scripts was much more beautiful but it has all the ear marks of an expensive girls school which it is. It has beautiful surroundings but I doubt I would like the atmosphere. Give me my dear old university any time. I had a lot of defending to do this afternoon. We left there about four o’clock and I came home to two beautiful letters. After dinner we were going to a play but the wind was blowing so hard Mrs. Williams was afraid to go out into it. I don’t think it was anything to be afraid of but it was certainly blowing a gale. It was hard to keep your feet when you were out in it. I heard a little thunder but we didn’t get any rain. It has died down now.

Mr. Hutchinson the father of one of the little girls in the school was over this evening and we played triple solitaire until the wicked hour of ten thirty.

Tomorrow Mrs. Williams suggested that we go to the Brown Derby to lunch and see the movie stars but she has some guests coming in the afternoon so I don’t know whether that will materialize. In the afternoon I am going over to Mrs. Earl’s to tea and to meet Debora Kever a girl I have met a couple of times when I have been down here  before.

In the evening I am going to a symphony concert with Bill Earl. Then Friday morning early I start on my exciting trip so that means among other things I have to do some packing tomorrow. That will make tomorrow go rather fast but O for Friday and Saturday. I can’t read very much because it hurts my eyes on the train. O, that it were only Saturday evening now instead of only Wednesday evening.

You sent me a picture in one of your letters. Here is one for you. Does that look like anyone you now?

Miles upon miles of love and more love,

Annie.

December 28, 1932 - Wednesday

I was just getting dressed when I was told Mrs. Williams would pick me up in half an hour. We went to Clermont for lunch and over Pomona and Scripts College. Home about four. Solitaire and letters tonight.

Friday night

Dearest George,

Life certainly isn’t complete without you dear. I wish I were in Portland with you. I try to be interested but it all seems so artificial and unimportant. I don’t care about the affairs of the world or the politics of the nation. I am just interested in the affairs and lives of the people I love. I’m afraid I am provincial. I like to go to these things but not as a critic but to enjoy them and to go with people I know and love and who I know will enjoy them as I do. I guess I am just a sort of simple soul that doesn’t appreciate the advantages that I have. I miss you so dear.

Today Mrs. Earl came after Mrs. Williams and I and we went to the Assistance League for lunch. It is a restaurant near the studios. We saw Joan Blondel and Buster Keyton. I forgot to tell you last night that we saw Gary Cooper at the play. This afternoon I was going to read on my bed but I fell asleep and slept all afternoon. When I woke up there were three lovely letters at the foot of my bed, two from you and one from Doro. She told me all about the dance and Dorothy’s badge. I am so happy for her. Doro and Jean seem to get along all right.

Tonight after supper Mrs. Williams and I went on some errands and now we are going to bed early.  Good night sweet heart.

Wed. Morning

The writing and spelling of the first part of this letter are worse than ever. I was going to copy it over but Mrs. Williams just called from downtown and I must be ready to hop into the car as soon as she arrives.  So you see I haven’t time to add anything more. There isn’t anything more to add anyway because I just got up.

Except that I love you sweet heart and I wish the thirty-first would be a little quicker bout getting here.

Worlds and Worlds of love,

Annie