Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Is the hwacha ready?

"Is the hwacha re-ah-dee?...No. It's in the uvula."

Our friend Tony's mom is an amazing cook, and just opened up the restaurant she's been planning for a while. (Meilor Eggroll Express in Appleton, WI) Dorian, myself, and our friend Jim went there for dinner last night, partially to get our hands on some Southeast Asian deliciousness, and partly to harass Tony.

It turns out that pad thai before bed results in Dorian talking almost the entire damned night. The problem with that--at least, in terms of this blog--is that Dorian is brilliant, and speaks several languages (rowr!), so when he talks in his sleep, what comes out may be any combination of English, Spanish, Japanese, Russian, or Arabic. (He's got Latin in there, too, but I haven't heard him speak it in his sleep, yet.) Generally, I don't try to transcribe the non-English quotes, because I only speak English and rusty French.

Though he did, months ago, mutter something in French about King Henry and a pear. I wish I'd written it down.

It's hard to remember the phonetic pronunciation of sleeping mutterings at 4:17 in the morning while trying to get some sleep and your partner next to you sounds like he's having an argument in Japanese.

He said a LOT more than the hwacha comment last night, but it's been lost in the lack of translation.

So now I'm keeping a notebook by the bed.


Tuesday, March 27, 2012

It's Doctor Sam Beckett, thank you very much.

Last night, Dorian rolled over suddenly, threw his arm over me, and jostled me awake.

Dorian: "I'm sorry!"
Me: "Ugh?"
"I'm sorry."

I had no idea what he was talking about, having just been woken up from a dream, myself. (I was playing ping-pong with Brian Blessed at an outdoor anime convention, but I was really that guy from Quantum Leap, trying to avert a terrible embarrassment that was going to happen to Sir Patrick Stewart during the production of The War of the Roses, scheduled to play that evening.)

More importantly, Dorian apparently caught the creeping crud I had last week and was up all Monday night vomiting, so I was worried he was sick again.

"You ok? Did you throw up?"
"No, I'm sorry."

At this point, I realized his eyes were closed.

"...It's okay. Go back to sleep."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't tell you what to think. You're your own person, Justin."

I'm sure I don't need to tell you that my name is not Justin.


Sunday, March 25, 2012

Mousey Doom

"(Something in Spanish)...It's the apparatus...it's named Mousey Doom...it's for programs, for Tom...yeah! Go!"
 

From the sounds he was making just before this, it was clear he was having some kind of nightmare, so I was making soothing sounds and stroking his hair. Suddenly, he rolled over and grabbed on to me.
 
"Ahh! No! Don't go!"
"I'm here, don't worry, I won't leave you."
"Not you, the potatoes."
"...We'll get new potatoes, it's okay."
"I'm hungry. Want cereal." 

And then he started to nom on my face.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

As you may have guessed, he was not awake.

Dorian's default sleeping position can best be described as, "diagonal." Left to his own devices, he will lie across the bed in such a way that no other human may occupy it, with all ends of the blanket tucked under him like a snuggly burrito.

Such is how I found him last night when I came to bed, myself.

"Hey, honey, scoot over."
"Mmmmg."
(Gently) "Dorian, could you scoot over, please?"
"Mmmmg!"
"Dorian..."
(Dorian says something incomprehensible in what I think was Russian.)
"Dorian, are you awake?"
"I am...good enough for the pine!"

Friday, March 23, 2012

Why, yes, I AM just this awkward in real life, as well!

My friend Dana (whose charming blog, Five Legs Between Us is located here) shared this with  a humor blog called Oh Noa, and now there's lots of new people here.

Hello, new people, and thanks for stopping by! I hope you find Dorian's antics as amusing as I do.

Since Dorian didn't do much other than toss and turn with the occasional grunt last night, I'll share an older tidbit I've been saving:

The other day, we were smooching on the couch and Dorian fell asleep. He was still getting used to his new work schedule (in which he gets up before dawn) at that point, so dozing off at odd times was not terribly unusual, and I just settled and got comfy.

After I scooted onto my back, Dorian woke up, made an appreciative sound, and climbed on top of me. As I gave him an encouraging smile, he wrapped his arms around me, under my back.

And then he sighed contentedly, dropped himself down on top of me, and fell asleep holding me like a giant koala.

It was kind of adorable until he started snoring directly into my face.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

There's a flaw in your logic, I think

Found this one scribbled down in my gaming notebook. It's from a while ago--actually, it may be from the period of time in which we were Not Dating, but still spending all of our time together.

(The scene: Dorian has fallen asleep on the couch after D&D. I try to take off his glasses for him. He moans in protest and bats my hand away, but does not wake up.)
"Dorian..."
"Mmmph."
"Dorian..."
"Mmmph."
"Would you like me to take your glasses for you?"
"No. I need them."
"You're going to sleep, right?"
"Uh-huh."
"Then why would you need your glasses?"
"To see my dreams."

Dorian informs me that he was not asleep, just irritated with me and not opening his eyes. 

Sandwiches

Dorian was particularly active last night, having fallen asleep while watching a movie.

(A movie character knocks on a door, Dorian halfway wakes at the sound.)
"Mmmf? Who's there? I'm not putting pants back on!"

"...You should end the debate forever."
"What debate?"
"Which mint is better...tea or honey..."


Me: "I love you."
Dorian: "I moo, too."

(This happened in the midst of some very loud snoring.)
 "ZZZZZZZZZ...Sandwiches...ZZZZZZZ."

Monday, March 19, 2012

He does this kind of thing with fevers, too.

Here in Wisconsin, we've been having unseasonably warm weather. As it's been lovely out lately, we had this season's first outdoor Dagorhir fighter's practice. Unfortunately, it seems that Dorian perhaps let his enthusiasm get away with him, and was out in the sun a little too long. Today, he's suffering from heat exhaustion, so I've been bringing him cool towels and water.

Fun fact about my fiancee: When his body temperature rises above normal, he speaks nonsense.

Now that he's cooled off a bit and is a bit more lucid, I've gotten his permission to share these tidbits:

"I watched the part of the movie I missed that I liked last night."
"Oh?"
"The part last night that I missed the movie. I watched it."
"Yes...?"
"Hang the coat! KABOOSH! Forget the coat."

"Can you find my wallet? It's either in my pants or in my wallet."
"Uh...sure."
"I don't know where it is. Check my wallet."

"Well, if you're going to look in my wallet for my wallet, you might as well find my wallet while you're at it."

*Wakes up from nap, throws an arm over my torso and pulls me to the bed*
"I FOUND HIM!"

"I knew it would be awesome. You know why? Because I knew it would sound awesome."

Saturday, March 17, 2012

The Butler Did It

"I invented a secret kiwi handshake. It's gonna be a good day...and I did it while I was awake, too!"

Dorian fell asleep during a conversation this morning. What's worth knowing is that we did run out of fish food this week, and just went out and got more. During the conversation-in-which-he-was-asleep, he said some rather rude things.

Dorian wakes up: "Wha? Are we fighting?"
Me: "You called me a jackass!"
Dorian: "What? No, I didn't!"
"You said, 'I'm not the one who ran out of fish food, jackass.'"
"No, that was the butler. I'm pretty sure he was eating the stuff. For real."
"We don't have a butler."
 "No, but the rich guy did, and he came over, and I was feeding the fish, and I handed the thing to the butler, and when I turned back, it was empty. There's nowhere else it could have gone."




Thursday, March 15, 2012

He was watching Futurama earlier

Dorian was taking a nap when I got home from work this afternoon.

"I'll wax your har-pee-see-chord...no, you won't."

(Yes, he said "har-pee-see-chord.")

And with that, I'm getting up

I've been moderately ill for the last couple of days--hot and cold flashes, dizziness, queasiness, coughing, all a bunch of low-grade but persistent symptoms. Last night, my coughing was keeping me up.

I kept turning over, moving around, sitting up, propping pillows, all in an attempt to find a position that I wasn't going to be constantly coughing in. Dorian gets up very early for work, and I didn't want to disturb his sleep.

Apparently, I had.

I rolled over onto my back, where I hoped I would not cough further. Unfortunately, I let out a series of hacks, and Dorian (who was still mostly asleep), rolled over to face me. He opened his arms, and, with a just-this-side-of-acceptably-gentle amount of force, dropped his upper body onto mine, pressing his face against my chest.

With his face buried in my sternum, and, by all observation on my part, addressing my lungs, he moaned, "Stoppiiiit! Shhh!"

Then he poked me in the ribs for good measure.

I gave up and got out of bed.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Inception meets home repair?


Dorian: "Were you watching a movie?"
Me: "Huh? No."
Dorian: "I had a dream that you had a dream that you were watching a movie while I tore the rubber down off the ceiling."
Me: "No, no dreams like that."
*Dorian wakes up* "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Me: "I don't know."

And I figure folks reading this would appreciate this:

Dorian was reading old posts of his on Facebook, while I sat across the table. Every few minutes, he'd comment on a changed opinion, or how a situation evolved from when he first commented on it.

After a little while, I head the loud click of his mouse.

A moment later, a distinctive drumroll played from his computer. Dorian threw his hands in the air.

"Ahh, I got Rickrolled by myself! Bullshit!"

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Speaking of weird

Dorian: "Mmmf!"
*I wake up and roll over* "Hmmm?"
Dorian: "That's weird."
Me: "What's weird?"
Dorian: "It's weird."
Me: "What is?"
Dorian, accompanied by a full body spasm: "ZZZzzzzzap!...(snores)"
(I stare at him a moment, then go back to sleep.)

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Did he anger a witch, or something?

Dorian fell asleep while we were watching Into the Woods. At the intermission, I fidgeted around on the couch, and he responded with:

"...I'm sorry...I'm sorry! Croak...croak...croak..."

According to Dorian, "those were not frog noises, they were attempts to speak." Regardless of what they were supposed to be, I'm writing down what I heard. And he definitely croaked like a frog.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Another Minecraft dream

Late last night, Dorian made a sort of alarmed, startled sound. I rolled over to check on him, and witnessed the following:

*Dorian looks concerned about something*
"SssssssssssssssSSSSSSSS--PSHHH!"
*Dorian frowns*

That, folks, is the sound a Creeper makes when it attacks.

I love this man.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Sorry, ladies, he's taken.

Dorian had a bit too much wine last night. He was drunkenly talking in his sleep.

"The wrong police showed up...so they had to use 911...to get the fairy cops there."

At one point, he started passionately making out with me--but he missed my mouth, and instead started french kissing my cheek, which resulted in him forcefully jabbing his nose into my eyeball. After I made a sound of protestation, he woke up, blearily looked at me, and, in a slurred attempt at seduction, said, "So what you doin'?"

He vigorously licked my forearm, and promptly fell asleep again.

Oh, baby, oh baby.

We discussed this and other shenanigans this morning. During the conversation, he nodded off again, commenting that he thought he was supposed to apologize for something.

A few moments of snoring later...

Dorian: "I remember now."
Me: "Hmm?"
Dorian: "It wasn't the sexy penis thing, though...I polished the inside of your teeth. I'm sorry."

I'm not sure I want to know what that was about.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Not a sleeping exchange, but still funny.

I copied this from my Facebook status last night. The quotes are approximate; I'd already been buzzed at that point. Dorian was, of course, not sleeping, but I thought it amusing enough to be appropriate to share here.

*Moving the last of Dorian's stuff out of his old apartment*
"Mind if I check the cabinets, make sure you got everything?"
"I double and triple checked everything."
"Still, mind if I do a once-over?"
"I checked all the cabinets."

(Later, as I check the bathroom closet)
"I got everything. If there's anything left, I don't want it. I double and triple checked all the cabinets and closets."

(Later, as I look into a cabinet...)

"Hey, a bottle of tequila!"
"...Dammit."

I am now getting drunk 1800 Silver, the bottle of which I have claimed for my own. Because he clearly didn't want it.