R-Rated Conversations

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I finally met someone who talks even more than I!!

Please re-adjust your seats and trays to their upright and locked positions and do feel free to realign your jaws.

So, as I stated in my previous blog, I had begun e-mailing back and forth with this gal who, for once, lives in Omaha. We met off J-date. Cross your fingers, right? Anyway, the first e-mail I sent was pretty short and simple (for me, anyway--hehehe!!). She then replied with this monster e-mail that even made me nearly shit my pants!! ME!!! So, I sent her a long one back, thinking ha!! By god, no one can top this!!! Sure enough, her e-mail was even longer!! Finally, a girl after my own heart!!

So, we continued exchanging e-mails for about three or four days, asking each other burning questions and all of that good stuff until finally, on Saturday, she asked me a question I really wasn't sure what to respond with. Or rather, if I wanted to respond at all.

Why did your last relationship end?

It hit me hard. It was a really simple question that called for a very complicated answer. I started writing one, two, three, four paragraphs (in addition to the 13 paragraphs beforehand), telling her how things went down. Finally, I stopped, feeling somewhat insecure about what I was writing, and asked my friend Emily what she thought and she said, "Hal...girls really don't wanna hear the details. Keep it simple." Truth be known, that's kind of how I wanted to answer all along. So, I deleted those paragraphs and wrote the following:

How did my last relationship end? Well, in a word, badly. I got hurt and it's still kind of painful for me to talk about. If you really want the nitty-gritty details, I'll tell you about it sometime but just for now, I rather not discuss it. I hope that's okay. Whew! Next question!

I don't know why but, for some reason, I felt relieved after I wrote it. I know I tend to be long-winded. It's true. Sometimes, I write too much and to my own detriment. It was nice to keep something to myself. It doesn't happen too often. I'm an open book that could, on occasion, use a lock.

Anyway, moving on, after all of the e-mails, we agreed that I'd call her on Sunday night at 9:15. And so, I did. Well, okay, I didn't call her until 10 minute past the designated time. Oh, well. I'm fashionably late!! Or wait!! Wouldn't that be considered S.J.T. (Standard Jewish Time)?! If that's the case, I'm totally in the clear!!

Boys and girls, dear readers, I kid you not when I tell you that, except for one 30-second break (blasted Bluetooth battery!!!) we talked on the phone for no less than five hours. Now, many of you, at this point, are thinking to yourselves, my god, Hal!!! Are you an ogre?!?! How could you subject that poor young woman to your incessant blathering?!?!?! Talk about a horrible first impression!!

On any other occasion, I would consider the following reply as childish, immature and downright lame, but here goes: WELL, SHE STARTED IT!!! Seriously, this girl gave as good as she got!! And then some!!! I was probably silent and just listening for half of the time. And ya know what? It was kinda nice. Finally, I can die knowing that there's someone besides myself who will continue talking even after they've run out of things to say. Do you know how abso-fuckin'-lutely REFRESHING that is?! We talked about anything and everything!! It was fantastic!! (And, as a side note: I did give her a very brief rundown of the demise of my last relationship. Hey, she wanted to know and once I got to talking with her, strangely enough, I felt a little more at ease with the topic. But like I said, I kept it pretty brief. The end.)

And the thing is, I'm still not quite sure about her yet. And I don't mean that in a bad way either. Oh, I think she's really awesome and I can't wait to meet her in person, but when I think of her, I'm kind of reminded of Vince Vaughn's bit of dialogue in "Swingers": "I don't want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie everyone's really hoping makes it happen. I want you to be like the guy in the rated R movie, you know, the guy you're not sure whether or not you like yet. You're not sure where he's coming from."

Long story short, this girl is like the girl in the rated R movie. In a way, she kind of reminds me of Catherine Keener, personality-wise. Well, at least, the hard-edged Catherine Keener circa "Being John Malkovich," as opposed to the softer "40-Year-Old Virgin" version. For example, when I told her that I cry in a lot of movies (including--shut the fuck up!!!--"Meet the Parents!!" They were so mean to my man, The Stiller!! I felt really bad for him on the airplane, when he was telling that bitchy stewardess that he had feelings and to leave him alone--er--to "step off, bitch!!"), she replied with, "Are you some kind of wuss or something?!" I didn't know how to answer and there was like this extremely awkward moment of silence before she went, "Um, I'm KIDDING!!"

Anyway, we talked again tonight for another two hours before I told her that we should probably not talk as long for fear of exhausting things. I asked her when she wanted to talk again (I've decided to put the ball in her court) and she was like, "Well, I'm not tired of you yet, so whenever." I asked, very hesitantly, if she wanted to talk tomorrow. Seriously, I'm really learning that one shouldn't overstay their welcome. She laughed and said, "YEAH, THAT'S FINE!! I have no problem talking with you!!!" And then she added, as a joke, "Just as long as we're not, you know, IM-ing each other eight hours a day."

We hung up around 11:30 p.m. and the same thought is still echoing through the windmills of my mind:

Curiouser and curiouser...