EvilJulie.com

I went grocery shopping on the way home tonight for the second time in a week (I realized I wanted to make spaghetti and chili next week–not on the same night–so I needed sausage and ground beef). I bought a $.99 (really, how annoying is it that there’s no cent symbol key anymore?) bag of Doritos and ate half to stave off hunger on the way home. I rubber banded the remaining half and stuck it on the counter, meaning to take it to work for part of my lunch tomorrow. That was about four hours ago. Rick got in about a half hour ago, noticed I was doing homework, and went off to the kitchen to make a hot dog. He came back to watch a You Tube video with me, then went back to the living room. I thought nothing of my Doritos until two minutes ago, when I suddenly noticed Dorito crumbs on the bed beside me.

Me: What are these??

Rick: What?

Me: Where did these Dorito crumbs come from?

Rick: Oh. Probably from my mouth when I was back there.

Me: Did you eat the Doritos that were sitting on the counter?

Rick: Um…

Me: I was saving them for lunch tomorrow.

Rick: Oh. Well, they just looked so good, sitting there. I didn’t know you were saving them. I was hungry!

(I point out the entire fridge full of food we have as a result of my two shopping trips, including cheese, pickles, olives, and other snack type foods.)

Rick: I’m sorry?

Rick and I are in the car, listening to the radio, when a diet program ad comes on. It is a diet program I have never heard of, and they seem to be marketing to a particular demographic because the woman is talking like this (I cannot even begin to type the accent, but I think you’ll get the picture):

Ad Woman: “After the birth of my first child, I put on 150 pounds. And I was looking at my friend one day, and I said “Girl, you are so slim. How do you stay so slim?” And she told me about [said diet program] and said she lost the weight with them. I’ve been on it for six months, and I’ve lost 100 pounds. And when I look at myself in the mirror…”

Rick interrupts: “I think, “Damn, Latisha, you still fat, but you ain’t as fat as you used to be, girl!”

Me (gasping for air because I’m laughing so hard): “Oh my god. How do you think of shit like that?”

Rick: “Really? Because I think of stuff like that all the time. I often wonder how other people don’t think of things like that.”

Amelia and Sage are in London with their mom for June and part of July, so Rick and I pass info from them back and forth as we get it (him from phone calls, me from Facebook). This morning’s conversation degenerated quickly.

Rick: So I think Amelia had a date the other night. She told me she went out to dinner, and when I asked her who she went with, she said “Um…a friend.”

Me: Good for her, going out with an English boy.

Rick: Well, she does love that accent.

Me: Honey, let me tell you something about women. We all love that accent.

Rick: Really?

Me: Yes. How else do you explain Hugh Grant’s box office success?

Rick: I always wondered about that. I mean, he’s not like that other one. The other one can at least act.

Me: You mean Colin Firth?

Rick: Yeah, him.

Me: He’s got the accent and he’s Mr. Darcy. That’s why women like him. He changed for Elizabeth.

Rick: And that’s why that story is total fiction.

Me: I know. Elizabeth got results in a few months. I’ve been working at it for seven years and what have I got to show for it?

Rick: Exactly.

Rick and I were drunkenly filling out brackets for March Madness last night. He picks based on the actual team’s record, I go on instinct with a strong preference for funny mascot names and with a bias for Pittsburgh teams. When we were finished, we compared brackets and discovered that although we had some wild discrepancies as far as who was getting to the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight, both of us had Pitt and UConn going to the final with Pitt winning the whole thing. I proposed that since we were projecting the same winner, we make our bet based on who had correctly predicted the most winners overall (I am up one at this point, because I said Morehead was going to get in and they did). Rick agreed, then we had the following conversation:

Rick: So is this for money? We’re betting money?

Julie: No. If you win, I’ll be your sex slave.

Rick: I like that.

Julie: What do I get if I win?

Rick: You’ll be my sex slave.

Julie: That doesn’t seem quite right.

Rick (with a leer): Oh, it’s right.

(Because that sounds nicer than: How I know Rick is well-trained.)

We were talking about Macbeth as we walked to the subway last night, and both agreed that it felt really long in the second act in spite of stellar acting. Rick then said “You know that really long scene between Macduff and Malcolm? They could have used a dramaturg there.”

Thank you, yes, they could have. This is the second only to last weekend when I showed Rick a scarf that I was knitting in a chevron pattern (which basically makes the scarf edge wavy instead of straight), and not realizing that it was designed that way, he commented “It’s really nice, but you’re going to have to block the hell out of that, aren’t you?”

He got some for that.