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Love of my Life: *gets a haircut*
Me: Oooh, I love your hair, it looks amazing. You look like Thomas Shelby from Peaky Blinders.
LOML: Cillian Murphy? I love him! He plays an amazing villain. And his hair is fantastic. And he has those ice blue eyes...
Me: ...
LOML: He's my man crush, okay?
Me: You just want to be an amazing villain.
Love of my Life uses the word “striking” to describe most fashion.
Examples include: “That tie looks striking with the shoes.” “Wearing black with that skirt would look really striking.” “This ring is just striking.”
“Why do you use striking to describe everything?” I ask.
“Because I like to imagine my attire striking down my enemies,” he replies, grinning.
Sometimes this boy scares me.
He’s perfect. :) <3
Conversation with Love of my Life about periods
LOML: “Is it really as bad as girls say? Are you in pain the whole time? And you still have to function like everything is normal? While you’re leaking blood?! And your hormones are doing crazy things?” Stares at me, with what I assume to be awe and amazement. “Can I bring you food? Will an ice pack help? No, wait, that will just make the cramps worse. Do you need tylenol? What kind of food are you craving?” *touches my abdomen super gently* “Does it hurt when I touch you? Is it okay if I still hold you? Or does that make it worse? You should eat something. Not eating will only make it worse.”
Stares at me for a minute. “Wow, you’re really tough.”
Y’all, this guy is so interested in periods. He just wants to know everything I feel so he can make it better.
*Discussing wedding plans with Love of my Life*
LOML: There’s only two options, really. Either we have Gregorian Monks with hoods, holding torches and chanting, or we have a Mariachi band.
Ladies and Gentleman, may I present my fiance. ^^^^
Also, neither one of us are monks or Hispanic.
Things Love of my Life says while playing video games, a collection:
“Wait, what? Why is that chest trying to eat me????”
“This isn’t Dark Souls!”
“If I use that potion thing, is it temporary?”
“Why on EARTH would I want to be a cop?”
“So. Many. Death. Puns.”
“It just gets trippier and trippier the better you do.”
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope No-NopeNopeNOPENOPENOPE”
“I can’t press up and down!”
So love of my life and I go to buy beer at like...11pm. In our great state of Texas, alcohol can’t be sold after 12 midnight. So we dilly dally in the store, make a selection, head to the checkout around 11:50. There is a guy in front of is with a six pack. The checker is moving about as slowly as a reluctant lobster scanning items, but she scans his beer, he pays, leaves. She gets to us. Scans every single other item with great deliberation. Finally scans our beer. Looks at the register. Says “Oh. It just clicked over to midnight, I can’t sell you this. Sorry.”
A couple things. I’m not blaming her for not selling it. I know it’s state law, that’s not her fault. What IS her fault is moving at the speed of paint drying to deliberately (???) avoid checking IDs and selling us the alcohol.
So, my thinking is....if we had dropped the case of beer in a fit of rage, would we have still had to pay for it? After all it’s obviously after midnight and you can’t sell us alcohol, APPARENTLY.
Food for thought.
Love of my life: *brings a bag of donut holes into the room*
Me, looking both adorable and pathetic: Ooooh, donout holes! I love donuts holes! Can I have one?
LOML: No.
Me: Just one?
LOML: No.
Me: *glares*
LOML: I brought you a half dozen donuts, they're in the kitchen, goof!
It tickles me to no end to hear Italian Roommate speaking on the phone to his parents in the room over. Because most of the time it’s just a beautiful language, and he’s so expressive, and whatever the conversation is sounds really intelligent and fun.
But then sometimes it’s just “Mama! No, mama, mama! Si, si, si, MAMA-” *rapid and unintelligible Italian* “Si. Ciao.”
