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July 30, 2008


Over 4 months ago at work, I had to write some 'funny' interview questions for the final 12 American Idol contestants.  We were going to some red-carpet thing and I had to feed questions to someone who was gonna interview them.   


Since I hadn’t seen the show and all I knew about it was that Paula was a drunk, and Simon was a dick, I IM’d with my cousin thinking maybe she would know more than I would about this stuff (she’s in her 20’s and reads ‘those’ magazines) .    She directed me to another cousin, and eventually I was on IM’ing with Farah. 


Farah was the friend, of the daughter, of my cousin Bobby, who lives in Florida and who I’ve seen maybe twice in the last 15 years.  Farah is 14 years-old, she’s in Jr. High School.  And I have never met her.   BUT, she could write.  Within an hour, Farah had not only answered my questions… she had spell checked what I wrote.  She was funny, smart, and to the point.  She more or less did my job.   I thanked her and that was that.


The next day the event was what it was.  Cameras, pretty people happy for themselves, a few moments of sincerity, some real good shrimp wrapped in bacon, two glasses of good Vodka, and a goody bag of stuff I’ll never use (including American Idol underwear, CD’s, and stickers.)   What the hell is wrong with these people?


Then a week later and I get a MySpace request from Farah.



How’d it go?!?!?!?  I think your life sounds so cooooooooool.  Do U have a girlfriend?!?!?!?!



It’s late, I’m a little buzzed, and I respond.


No one thinks my life is cool!  But thanks, you made my day.  And no I don’t have a girlfriend.  Do you have a boyfriend?  



This was where I may have made a mistake.  Specifically the, “do you have a boyfriend?”  part.  The next day at work there’s some awkward flirting by her via IM and I block her from my buddy list.  Then a few dozen MySpace messages which I don’t respond to… and then a week later I get flowers delivered to my house  with a note that says,


“Just thinking of you.”

Xxoo Farah.


OK.  Five things.

  1. I have sent flowers to a lot of women over the years, and this is the first time anyone ever sent them to me.  I was flattered and really liked them.  They weren’t a cheep bouquet; they were real interesting and pretty.  I put in a vase and they stayed fresh looking on my table for over a week
  2. How does a 14-year-old have enough $, or a credit card to send flowers? 
  3. How did she get my address?
  5. How old was Natalie Portman in, “Beautiful Girls”?


I sent a MySpace message



OK.  Thanks for the flowers, they’re real nice.  But I am much, much older than you and it’s probably inappropriate that we keep on talking.  Thanks again for all your help and the flowers, and good luck.



Now as you can probably tell from this blog thing, I write like I talk, and when it comes to grammar and such stuff I am a retarded.  


What I get back from her is this message:



To quote you:  “But I am much, much older than you and it’s probably inappropriate that we keep on talking.”



You are soooooooooooooooooooooooooo funny!!!!!!!!!!!!



Now what? 


First, I delete her as a friend on my MySpace page, even though I’m 39 and should’ve just deleted my whole profile.


Second, I call my cousin whose daughter is friends with Farah and ask him to talk to her parents.  My cousin Bobby laughs at me, telling me that his 14 year-old daughter is boy crazy and that I have no idea what it’s like being a father to a teenage girl.  I agree, and laugh at him.  Then I hear nothing for over three months.


But today almost 5 moths since the original American Idol thing I get a call from Farah’s father.  He calls to tell me that he appreciates me calling my cousin and telling him to talk to him and that I did the right thing.  Then he goes on to tell me that Farah and him had an agreement that if she didn’t call, IM, text, e-mail, MySpace message or anything else with me for over 100 days, that he would let her call me to say goodbye.  Apparently it’s been 100 days, today.  So, he puts Farah on the phone, and all she says is. "Goodbye.”  Then they hang up.


So…   I guess I’m single again.