Articles in “Strange Conversations”

ME: I need a new title for my novel, but I can’t think what.
NICK: It’s a pity the two kingdoms don’t have names. You could call it From X to Y.
ME: From Here to Eternity?
NICK: From Justin to Kelly.

What a shame From Russia with Love is already taken.

In which Nick learns the dangers of, firstly, letting his girlfriend follow him on Twitter and, secondly, baiting an over-tired girlfriend:

ME: Honey, I don’t know what that was that you just tweeted, but I’m sure it can’t be as important as the washing up.
NICK: I’m just about to get on with that.
ME: Good.
NICK: But what I’ve done is . . .
ME: No.
NICK: But it’s . . .
ME: I have one paper to go.
NICK: But it’s the coolest . . .
ME: I’ve had five hours’ sleep.
NICK: But . . .
ME: Head injury!
NICK: I’m done.

(I don’t still have a head injury, of course, though there’s still a dent in my forehead. But it is why I’m so behind on my work and running on so little sleep.)

Reverse psychology:

NICK: How do you like my new stripy boxers?
ME: Very nice, darling. You should go to the shops in those.
NICK: Don’t tempt me!
ME: Why not?
(Pause)
NICK: Okay. I won’t.

From an IM conversation (which also included this. OMG!):

ME: Retweet that picture! Other people need to see that!
NICK: Ok.
ME: I should go. I have a list of things to do. The last one is “totally panic.”
NICK: Cross that one off then.
ME: And that’s only re. my MS. Well, one of my MSS. Cross it off?
NICK: Cross off “totally panic”.
ME: It’s the only one I’ve achieved!
NICK: Well, there you go then.

ME: So this is how you choose to spend your evening? Bringing mathematics to the pixellated Greeks?
NICK: Everyone needs a mission. A hobby, if you will.
ME: Adding “if you will” after a perfectly normal noun doesn’t make it portentous.
NICK: Does it not?
ME: No. And neither does messing with the syntax.

NICK (in hallway): What time do you want Mum round tomorrow?
ME (in the shower, gingerly avoiding various bruises and contusions): What?
NICK (in hallway): I said, “What time do you want Mum round tomorrow?”
ME (in shower): Are you on the phone right now?
NICK (in hallway): What?
ME (in hallway): I said, “Are you on the phone right now?”
NICK (in hallway): No. Text message.
ME (in shower): Then it can wait till I’m not naked.
NICK (in hallway): What?

ME: I feel a bit guilty about taking the day off and delaying my marking.
NICK: Why?
ME: Well, it’s only a blow on the head. Maybe I’m making a big deal out of it.
NICK: Okay, rewind that a bit. It’s a blow on the head. You should be making a big deal out of it.
ME: Yeah, but—
NICK: It’s a blow on the head. Stop fretting about it.
ME: You stop making me frown. It makes my lump hurt.

Since it’s been nearly twenty-four hours since yesterday’s blow to the head, we’re assuming my chances of bleeding into my brain are greatly reduced. (The chances were never high, before anyone panics. I know you were going to panic.) But Nick likes to make contingency plans.

NICK: But with the less serious head injuries, sometimes it can be weeks before something happens.
ME: I know! And you’re walking and talking, and then you fall down dead.
NICK: But if we’re vigilant, we can catch it.
ME: I thought the whole point was that you just fell down dead with no warning?
NICK: If you start slurring your speech, I’ll know. BAM!
ME: I might just be drunk.
NICK: Then from now on, there’s no more alcohol. BAM!
ME: That would really ratchet up the irritability, which is another symptom.
NICK: True.
ME: You’d just be masking all the symptoms.
NICK: It’s not easy, is it?

This sums up my life, especially at 7:30 on a Monday night:

ME: Sweetheart, I love you, but you have to stop performing a mouth-orchestra counterpoint to ‘Every Rose Has its Thorn’ while I am trying to write.
NICK: Sorry.

It’s all summed up in this slightly embellished conversation:

ME: Now, your next piece of assessment is released tomorrow. No, it’s not. That was a total lie. It’s released next Tuesday.
STUDENTS: Yeah.
ME: I was getting my T-days missed up.
STUDENTS: Tomorrow is an F-day.
ME: Is it? Is today Thursday?
STUDENTS: Yes.
ME: Did we have a public holiday this week?
STUDENTS: Yep.
ME: Well, it’s still being released next Tuesday.

Still, at least I was in the correct class and teaching the correct material.

My mother informs me that she’s planning on becoming a Jewish mother as a hobby. I suggested that, since she’s already a Catholic mother, she didn’t really need to pile on any more guilt.

Then she sent me this e-mail:

Was going to ring last evening to see if you were okay as I didn’t get
a response to my e-mail which is very unusual.
Love,
Mum
P.S. If I don’t get a response to this one I will contact emergency
services.

(The original e-mail, I might add, was a request for help with the crossword, and I didn’t know the answer.)

I didn’t learn my lesson, clearly, because yesterday brought this e-mail:

Are you alive and well? I’m concerned as I did not receive a response
to the e-mail I sent yesterday. Correction, I did receive a response
from your sister.
Love,
Mum

And then she suggested that I post them on the blog. She’s hungry for a wider audience, I think.

Nick does the laundry, after some prodding:

ME: Honey . . .
NICK: You are quite right. I leap into action, like the action man I am.
ME: You’re not an action man.
NICK: I am too an action man!
ME: For a start, action men don’t whinge like that.
NICK: There are lots of action men in Aliens, and they whinge all the god-damn time.
(Pause)
ME: All right, that is a fair point.
NICK: Woo hoo!

Trying to decipher Australian Crawl lyrics—always a pointless task:

ME: Knocking on rum balls?
NICK: Maybe.
ME: Oh! Knocking on wrong doors.
NICK: Rundor.
ME: Who?
NICK: Rundor the Repulsive.
ME: Is that a real person?
NICK: I don’t know.
ME: Well, did you make him up just then?
NICK: Oh. Yes.
ME: Then why didn’t you say he wasn’t real?
NICK: I didn’t like to draw conclusions.