The Nail

 I am happily married. Seriously.  Wonderfully.  Since 1986.  Sure, some tough years, some unfun years, but overall happily married.  Love Mrs. Andrew.  Love her with all my heart.

But...

Have you ever noticed there are some differences in communications styles between the sexes?  Yes, I am painting with a wide brush full of generalities, but there's truths behind assumptions sometimes.  It deals with facts vs feelings, actions vs talking about it.

Seriously, if there's one thing, and it is a THING, I'd change on Mrs. Andrew is lack of brevity in speech.  

Like, none.  

Well, sometimes, if it is an emergency.

Otherwise... she'll talk about it.  And talk.  And express her feelings about what she is talking about.  And then her feelings on her feelings. 

For an example, reading books and making quick comments.  I'll go "Hmmm, Ashok died, what, 1 1/2 times already?"  She'll go, "Well, the first time he only almost died as..(insert lots of word salad filling in how said character got close to death, if not actual deatand then came back) and the second time he... (insert lots of word salad filling in how said character gets close to death, if not actual death, and then came back.)  Me?  Max 25 words.  She?  Max about 2,000-5,000 words.

Seriously.  Eye glazing.  I could have gone back and re-read the chapters dealing with it in less time than she related it (and her feelings about it.)  Admittedly, I am a fast reader, but not that fast.

She just finished reading a book I am not interested in and, so, of course, every chapter or big event has to have her explain it to me.  In detail.  She could have read it out loud in less time than she talked about it.

It's like... Leeloo in "The Fifth Element" saying her name and Corbin Dallas trying to get her to .shorten it.  Mrs. Andrew is Leeloo and I'm Corbin.

The Name Scene from "The 5th Element"

Excellent movie.  Probably the most perfectly executed cut scenes I've ever seen in movie history.

If you don't like this movie, you may be dead to me...

Not really, but seriously...

I've even tried that 'shorten distance using my fingers gesture' and sometimes all it does is derail her and she starts over.  Augh.

And it's not just babbling on about books or tv shows or movies, it's about everything. 

Like tasks.  

Instead of saying, "Can you get that box off the floor and put it away" she'll instead remind me of the famous pizza box episode (wherein I cleaned a whole room and vacuumed and dusted and left a pizza box in the middle of the room, hey, ADHD is a thin... Squirrel!) and then go on to how the box is... and that... and the other... and 5 minutes later I pick the box up and throw it away taking 1/100th the time she spent talking about the box and what to do with it.

And... feelings.  Whoa whoa whoa feelings...  Yes, I know I hurt your feelings.  Yes, I apologized and fixed it.  Yes, I'll try not to do that again.  So you don't have to talk about your feelings on a never-ending loop tape until you feel better because all it does is fluster me even more than me hurting your feelings.  But, no, still have to hear about the feelings and blah, blah, blah.

It's like that famous video about the nail.

Guys are nodding their heads and going, "Yep."

Ladies are not getting it and want to talk about how they don't get it and how they don't do that and how it feels and why can't the guys just listen to them and...

And it's a real thing.  That whole 'must talk about it' and 'talk about the feelings' thingy.  

I love her, I do.  I understand she has feelings and wants to talk about it, I do.  I wish she'd talk like a guy more often.

How do guys talk about their feelings?  "Man, that sucks. Makes me feel sad.  Please don't do that again, okay?" (for an especially wordy man.)  That's it.  11-20 words max, hug it out, move ON!

It's like colors.  Never ever ever play punchbuggy with an arts major who's female.  

Her: "Blue" punch.  "Light blue" punch. "Haze grey blue" punch.  "Cornflower blue" punch. "This exact shade" punch. "That exact shade" punch.

Me: "(sees in 16-bit color) Blue"  Her: "Nope, already called it...."

Or jokes.

Her:  (On and on and on explaining the setting and the characters and tells the punchline and then explains the punchline.... 10 minutes later...)

Me: (Insert 2 line Dad Joke.)

Now, I do get wordy, as anyone who has read my comments or my blog entries can attest.  But actual normal talking?  Standard pattern male speech patterns.  Oh, I can talk and talk, and can lecture like a professor (more like a term paper, first paragraph gives it all away and remaining paragraphs provide the support to the thesis, and the closing paragraph summarizes it all.)  Even so, not as wordy as her.

She actually lost points on an essay in college because she went waaaaaaaayyyyy over the maximum limit.  Me?  It's a limit like in Calculus, you approach as close as possible to the 'limit' but do not actually reach it.  (Remember, Calculus is the math of "Almost 2 plus Almost 2 approaches but does not meet the value of '4.')

And now, if Mrs. Andrew ever finds this essay, yep, I'll get to hear about it, ad nauseum, and her feelings, ad nauseum, and on and on...  

I'd be just doomed... Dooomed... Dooomed....

An excellent FedEx Commercial, about being dooomed...