Articles in “Strange Conversations”

ME: Honey? Am I allowed to buy things on iTunes when you’re not here?
NICK: Of course! Ours is a shared harvest.
ME: You don’t get my stuff. Also? I ate your cashews.
NICK: Fair enough.

ME: Nick, please don’t make your “Why did I shack up with someone with a uterus?” face.
NICK: It’s not that face! That face is completely different!

In which I ask Nick about a piece of writing.

NICK: It was very good indeed.
ME: I wish you’d give me feedback without prompting, sometimes.
NICK: Well, yes. I’m very passive in that way.
ME: And I wish you’d occasionally give me feedback that doesn’t involve weasel words.
NICK: Using weasel words is what sets us apart from the animals. Except for the weasels.
ME: Shut up now.
NICK: Very well.
ME: Damn you.

In which Nick has the courage of his convictions.

ME (reading student assessment): These students were eight years old when they first read Harry Potter. I was twenty three.
NICK: There’s life in the old girl yet.
ME: Really?
NCIK: Of course.
ME: No, I mean really? That’s how you choose to respond to that comment?
NICK: It’s for your own good.
ME: How, precisely?
NICK: So that you don’t feel bad about yourself, and start thinking, and … well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

ME: I have no idea what he’s singing.
NICK: I’m sure it’s about his tax return.
ME: Yes, but you thought the sun was a truck that brought you beer.
NICK: And I still do.

ME: I must be such a trial.
NICK: No, you’re not. You’re the opposite of a trial. A test. No. No, wait! Those are the same things, aren’t they?

ME: You know, not only have I never seen the 1987 live-action Masters of the Universe film with Dolph Lundgren …
NICK: Yes?
ME: But I never even knew there was a 1987 live-action Masters of the Universe film with Dolph Lungren.
NICK: What? O.M.G. (Note: Yes, he really said this. As an initialism.) It’s so bad.
ME: Of course it is. It’s a 1987 live-action Masters of the Universe film with Dolph Lundgren.
NICK: I saw it as a kid, and even then I thought it was bad.
ME: Impossible. It was 1987, when Dolph Lundgren was a god. Though it is set on Earth, right?
NICK: Right.
ME: That’s not right. It should be set on Eternia or nowhere.
NICK: But that’s what they did back then.
ME: Honey, don’t say “back then” like 1987 was the Dark Ages.

If there’s a moral to this story, it’s that “1987 live-action Masters of the Universe film with Dolph Lundgren” is really fun to say.

NICK: The question on everyone’s lips is “Where did Nick put the pineapple?”
ME: The question on everyone’s lips is “Who puts pineapple on a pizza, you psycho?”
NICK: That’s not right and you know it! But seriously …
ME: I was quite serious.

A vaguely Orwellian strange conversation:

ME: I think the opposed examples they gave were from Nineteen Eighty-Four: that the novel is unremittingly bleak or that the novel has a happy ending. Though I don’t see how you can argue the last one about Nineteen Eighty-Four.
NICK: No.
ME: Imagine a boot, grinding on a human face—forever.
NICK: Imagine a Canadian, grinding …
ME: You know I was paraphrasing Nineteen Eighty-Four, right?
NICK: But you said “Aboot.”
ME: Oh, I see. Very funny.

ME: Hello?
NICK: Oh, sorry. Have phone on mute at work, sometimes don’t hear it. What can I do?
ME: Fake your own death so I can go home.
NICK: Hmm. You know, you probably have some sick leave by now. Use it to take off a couple of hours early.
ME: Yes, I know I could go home without you faking your own death, but the point is that you’re not being helpful.
NICK: I thought that was quite a helpful suggestion!

After watching the Thor trailer:

ME: Man, he’s gorgeous.
NICK: I knew he was your type.
ME: Big, blonde, bearded thunder god of the Northlands? Yeah, he’s my type.
NICK: I wish I could grow a beard.
ME: And become a thunder god?
NICK: That, too.
ME: Obviously, the beard is the first step.
NICK: Obviously.

ME: I mean, would you trust this man?
NICK: Indeed you wouldn’t. Looking at that pic though, I’m not surprised that Tom Baker played him once.
ME: They have the same mad eyes. Except that Tom Baker is adorable.
NICK: True. You should read that interview. It’s pretty wild.
ME: What interview? With Rasputin?
NICK: Heh. Nah, the Tom Baker interview.
ME: Oh! Don’t distract me. I’m distractable enough already.
NICK: True dat.
ME: I’m trying to find a way to say “We don’t know much for sure about Rasputin, because it’s all myths and highly unlikely hearsay. But we know everyone hated him and they killed him. A lot.” Only not like that.
NICK: Yes. Also, he was in Hellboy.
ME: That’s not relevant.
NICK: It should be though.
ME: Go away.
NICK: Okay!

ME: Dude. This woman’s husband is in a Bigfoot group.
NICK: Really?
ME: Who joins a Bigfoot group? Who marries someone who a member of a Bigfoot group?
NICK: What’s a Bigfoot group?
ME: I don’t actually know. I guess people who believe in Bigfoot and go out looking for him?
NICK: Oh, right! As opposed to, say, Bigfoot re-enactors.
ME: You mean, they put on suits, hide in pockets of mist and out-of-focus areas, and jump out at unwary hikers?
NICK: Yeah.
ME: We should start a Bigfoot re-enactment group!
NICK: Totally!

Today, I spotted a tiny possum in the mulberry tree, prompting a long Twitter discussion, mostly with myself, about whether he was sleeping or dead. Since our house is something of an elephant burial ground for possums (you know that phrase makes sense), I assumed dead.

Until he moved.

Then I assumed zombie possum.

After dark, we checked with Nick’s flood-inspired LED headlamp, and he was gone:

ME: So the jury returns a verdict of “not dead.”
NICK: Good.
ME: But remains out on a verdict of “undead.”
NICK: Ja. Listen to ze possums of ze night. Vhat beautiful music they make.
ME: Darling, possums are nocturnal anyway.
NICK: Ja. Bugger.

The futility of trying to convince Nick to let me buy another TV lamp, this one shaped like a chess piece:

NICK: Shipping antiques from overseas stresses me out too much
ME: But I might love it more than I love you!
NICK: OMG!
ME: I said “might.”
NICK: But I am alive and squishy!
ME: Okay, ew.