Me: I think you should call me that from now on when you introduce me. “This is my lady, Julie.”

Rick: Um, no. I could call you my old lady.

Me: I’m younger than you.

Rick: Well, yeah, but if we were bikers, you would be my old lady.

Me: We’re not bikers, so you can see how that wouldn’t work.

Rick: …

Me: Exactly.

In reality, it was a very lazy day. Rick hit golf balls in the morning, I…didn’t do homework. (Spring Break mentality is killing me, people. I am so behind on the homework, but there I sat watching Project Runway.) In the afternoon, he came home and cooked us beef tenderloin for dinner, and then we flipped back and forth between the Sox game and The Sound of Music. He’s a good boy, letting me not only watch musicals but sing along with them. Although I wonder how much of it he was actually paying attention to and how much he was making up scenes in his head. Like this one, which flew out of his mouth because he has no internal censor:

Maria (on TV): “Which brings me to another transgression, Reverend Mother. I was singing out there today.”

Reverend Mother (on TV): “Only in the abbey do we have rules about postulants singing.”

Maria (on TV): “I can’t stop wherever I am.” (Rick cuts in, as Maria) “In fact, I made up a new song today! Would you like to hear it? ‘Dominique-nique-nique….’”

Rick as Reverend Mother (severely annoyed): Maria! That’s enough!”

I almost pissed myself because I was laughing so hard.

Other than that, we had a very lazy day, as shown in this photo montage.

“Dude, what? I’m sleepin’ here.”

“See? I has a tired.”

“What the hell is the other one up to? Is he going to jump on me again?”

“No, I’m just stretchin’!”

“But I could kick your ass. I have thumbs, you know.”

“I hate my life.”

Actually, that shows that three of us had a lazy afternoon. Freddie looks harassed. Somewhere in cat heaven, Joe is looking down and laughing because now Freddie knows what it’s like. Karma exists, even on the feline level.

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.”

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: 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.

Wait, what?

Apparently, I had been talking in my sleep and said “Hey!” pretty loudly. This woke Rick up, and in the darkness, he misinterpreted and thought the dark shape on the pillow was the cat, sitting on my head. Because my head, it is cat-shaped. And because Rick doesn’t like for Freddie to be on the bed, he flicked. This is generally a surefire way to get the cat off the bed. Except when he’s not actually flicking the cat, he’s flicking my head. That’s just a surefire way to make both of us miserable for the next few minutes.

Tonight when he gets home, I will draw visual aids to make sure this never happens again.

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.

The next thing I know, there was a flash of orange light on my left side and I looked over to see my boyfriend had ignited a lighter by my left leg. I jumped away from it, at least as much I was able to with a seatbelt on. “Not burning you,” he said sweetly.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I asked. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m just taking it to the next level,” he replied.

Many things flashed through my head, but in the end I said the only thing I could: “I am so blogging this.”

Julie: So is it wrong that after I had a pelvic exam I was thinking of you?

Rick: Um………….I hope that the pelvic exams I give you are more pleasant than the one the gynecologist just gave you.

Julie: Definitely.

Rick: Okay then.

Conversation with Rick this morning about my matching yellow bra and unders (I never ever have matching undies. I basically make sure the that bra isn’t going to show through the shirt I’m wearing and grab whatever unders my hand meets first in the drawer.):

Rick: Wow, that’s nice! You look kinda like a banana. (Realizes that this is not, in fact, a compliment, and tries to rectify it.) You know…in my imagination.

Julie: That is so not sexy. That is perhaps the least sexy comparison I’ve ever heard. Bananas are not sexy.

Rick: Well, you look like a hot banana!

Yes, because that made it all better. I only wish I could blog the earnest look on his face as he said this, trying to make amends.