Welcome Bloggers,

It's offically (well, at about 3:30-ish E.S.T.) been three weeks since I spoke to "Lisa."

And it hurts today as much as it did that night in December 1999.

Not that the pain ended there that was the beginning.

I had wanted to put up a screenplay that I wrote about that night but I couldn't figure out how to copy and paste it from Final Draft to this bolg.

But I digress.

I don't know. In the short phone conversation we had it seemed that she hadn't really changed in the five years since we last spoke. I find that kind of disheartening. I say that because "Lisa" has great potential, like myself, but I guess she didn't do much about it (again, like myself). I suppose we live too much in the past with our private pains. (She has hers and I have mine).

But, ultimately, I just don't know.

By that I mean I have no idea because we never got beyond this weird, shocked chit-chat that was barely surface level stuff. I mean not even deeper than "how're you doing?" We just really couldn't communicate our wants and needs (sorry screenwriters language) to each other. "WE" wanted to see each other but "WE" got cought up in the details of where and when and talked our selves out of it. We literally talked more about my married former roommate and the plans I had with him on my last day in Las Vegas than "WE" said about each other. That's how f-ed up this conversation was.

But we did decide to meet the next afternoon. I was to call her and we would get together for a drink.

So, I called her.