Last night while I was making a cheese-less buffalo chicken pizza, I had a lovely telephone date with Jay. Defeater was making the drive to Salt Lake City, and we managed to get onto the subject of Jay having a mid-life crisis.
He is 31 years old and said that he must be nearing the time of his mid-life crisis, or that the time has passed. I asked if he planned to die and leave me alone in my fifties, to have to date again.
Well, readers, Jay took great offense to this statement. He couldn’t believe I would even consider dating after he died. If I died, he said, he would move to Wyoming, where not a single soul would bother him, because after me there isn’t a single other person that could make him happy. And how dare I consider dating Biff Dickerson.
Yes, Biff Dickerson. The idea of me making a buffalo chicken pizza for Biff made him mental.
All of this, while very romantic, was quite amusing to me. Here is the man who told me, very clearly, from the beginning of our relationship that he does not believe in God and that when we die, that’s the end of the road, suddenly doesn’t want me to date after he kicks the bucket.
I told him that if I were to die I would want him to do what he felt was necessary to find happiness and stave off loneliness. He went into a tirade about how there would be no Becky Dickerson for him and that our souls have been joined, even after death, and there would be no other person between us.
“But Jay, you don’t believe in an afterlife,” I said through my laughter.
“Well, our wedding made me think that maybe there is something,” he said. “There were all those dragonflies and kinds of supernatural shit happening.”
It was really quite an amazing telephone date for a Friday night. I had planned to drink wine, read my book and watch a show, but this was far better. Once my pizza was cooked, I took it upstairs and crawled into my bed (there is no kitchen table in my house).
My good friend Sophie asked if I was available to Skype. Now, Sophie lives in England and we have never met. She and I actually became friends through Tumblr, because of Defeater — I swear, some of the most wonderful things can come from being the spouse of a man in a band.
I have to be honest — I have never used Skype to video chat. Jay and I use it when he is in Europe so we can talk cheaply (or for free). So I had to figure out how to make it work. I finally ended up using Skype my phone, and it was really the most lovely way to meet someone without having actually met them. Sophie is just the most adorable woman and I LOVE her Scottish accent.
We chatted about everything under the sun, including her wedding, which I am honored and pleased to say I will be a bridesmaid in. She and I have gotten to be so close — we talk about things that neither she or I would typically talk about with other people. Plus, our men don’t have to listen to the girly things because we have each other.
Since I had Skype all figured out, once Sophie and I hung up, Jay and I gave it a shot. It was so great to see his face. He got to say hi to Niles, and see the little cut on his nose, and I got to virtually flick him. Of course, everyone at the show was making fun of him for being on Skype, but like he said, “one of the benefits of being me is that I don’t give a fuck about other people.”
Anyway, I started the house hunt officially today. I looked at a place in Billerica — a town I truly loathe — that seemed perfect on Zillow. When I walked into the house I had the most dreadful, dizzy, nauseous feeling. The place was a total money pit, which was a shame since it had a barn that would have been perfect for a studio. Alas, we’ll keep looking.
Tonight my brother is coming over for dinner, and per Alyssa’s post, I am going to make vegetarian Shepherd’s pie. And perhaps a pumpkin custard.