you write the moral, and I’ll write the lesson. we could read a love that kept us guessing.
i’m a story teller. i believe in connection through words. through detail. through interest and intrigue. through sharing. if you know me in real life, you’d probably say that this is an understatement.
i am obsessed with the story. any story. i want you to want to know every detail. it’s how i connect. i want to tell you things. i want to share, and explore, and feel like you hear me, and understand me, and imagine being there. or appreciate the serendipity, or agree that we are all here, interacting with one another for a reason. and it’s important to me.
i want to hear your stories. small or large. i want the details. i want to know what things you will emphasize, what things you value. what you notice, why you care… about life.
this weekend i was talking with an amazing girlfriend of mine about dating. shocker. and i told her a story, about a boy. and she told me one. and she said most matter of factly, “of course it’s about the story. when is it not?” and for some reason it hit me. she understood. really understood. it IS about the story. it’s not that we all want some romantic comedy like meet cute for because it’s romantic. well, there is nothing wrong with that even. it’s the story that begins “us,” as friends, lovers, soul mates, as fateful friends. and she and i, this nbff (newbestfemalefriend), we have a good story.
women often share stories and secrets in relationships with one another. it’s how we connect, and support one another. men often do things together, play sports, or give advice. gendered communication. it’s all there, whether it’s socialization or genetics the research has been done.
but what my friend said to me, and how she said it, made me feel like someone finally got it. that telling stories, the story, isn’t about me being a female, and telling secrets is what we do on the playground. it’s bigger than that.
and it suddenly came to me, everything i know about story telling, and creating a narrative, from an academic perspective. when thinking about dating, i often reference, in my own brain, things i learned in grad school. i don’t know why it always surprises me. i mean, isn’t that the point. to learn, remember, and apply? well, yea, every emotion i have is processed through this crazy rational virgo filter, and often times using academic research is what makes me feel more healthy about about being so pragmatic.
the narrative. it creates meaning. it provides us a view to understand how we see ourselves in a larger group (society). it gives us a space to emphasize who we want to be. the parts of us, and things we’ve done of which we are proud. stories allow us to test our normalcy in relation to the rest of society.
by telling a story, we are sharing ourselves. whether outwardly, or cryptically, we tell stories to connect. Read the rest of this entry »
broke his own heart, poured it in the ground, big red tree grew up and out, throw up its leaves, spins round and round.
ok, you know those songs that you hear, usually on the radio or at a place in which you do not control the music, and they make you instantly in the moment. like nothing else matters. like nearly thirty years of life just hit you right then. and you are soaking it in. and don’t want it to end. you know those songs?
i heard one of them last night. and since then i have just been in love with my moment. because, really, the feeling that started during the song hasn’t left.
it was 7:37pm, i was at bevmo in carlsbad california with @tjferrara and his father. after working a busy day at work, i had flown from san francisco to the orange county airport, was scooped up by tj, and within 6 minutes of getting in the car i was watching ‘the carter documentary’ about lil wayne in the front seat of his prius. an hour and a half later we were at the grocery store, meeting @tiffanyleonard and tj’s parents (in from detroit). ten minutes later i had departed with the men and at bevmo we arrived.
after wandering with the snarky tjferrara in search of his pops, we arrived at the wall of pinot noir. and i heard this song.
and everything was put into perspective. here i am. in my life. living in california. spending thanksgiving in california. without my family. blood family. feeling like if i couldn’t be with my family, i couldn’t really imagine being with any other people than tiffany and tj. and tj’s parents. because i have known them for so long, they might as well be family. and yea, we that have moved away from ‘home’ often say that our friends are our ‘family,’ but this is for real. genuine love, acceptance, fun, laughs, and ‘this is the grown up life we used to talk about in my bedroom while staying up late in middle school.’ we are adults. and will always be in each other’s lives. and someday, i won’t be the single third wheel asking tj if he has any single male friends that are his clone. but until then, it’s still just perfect.
this is what the holidays are about. living that adult life that you used to imagine when you were in middle school. with those people that you care for and love like family. that aren’t going anywhere.
and if you shake your heart enough, she will appear. tonight i think i’ll be staying here.
ok, so i know i promised you a super sleuth story. but, after a big huge date night like meal (cheese, wine, salad, wine, butternut squash linguine, wine, and some chocolate thing in a coffee cup that was like half cooked brownie mix, ie:heaven) i am in a food coma, which is affecting my patience for my own stories. alas, my friends, the crime scene murder mystery will have to wait. ok, you’re right. not murder.
so, this ‘feeling’ thing i guess gets you somewhere. like, through things. embracing them has apparently made me move forward. not on, because well, that suggests like, getting over. and this is something (and i wrote someone just then, and had to correct. total freudian slip) i don’t want to get over.
so yea, i’ve moved forward. and it is what it is. but this time, in a ‘i’m not putting up a wall’ it is what it is, ignoring feelings as a way to avoid disappointment, or heartbreak. but a different kind of is what it is. like a ‘it is what it is,’ forgot i wasn’t thinking about it way. like it pleasantly, and nondescriptly dropped off my list of things to remember to think about. and that was, nice. well, i didn’t even realize it really.
until this morning. when i got out of the shower, at 6:22 am, and *f*l*a*s*h* you were there. in my head. like, why? just there. in the front of my brain. and then i realize that 14 minutes earlier i awoke from one of those completely and utterly real dreams that later, when you remember it, you can’t remember right away if that memory was because it happened, or because you dreamed it.
and i sighed, embraced it, and kept going, kept moving. and proceeded to have a totally, outrageously busy day at work. meeting with my boss’ boss, employee year end performance reviews, 45 minutes total of non meeting time in ten hours, plus ninety five “must do today”s on my list kind of day. an life went on.
until in a double whamie kind of way jason schwartzman began singing to me on the burnt orange sunset drive home through berkeley while staring across the bay at my city. he sang, “for a second there i thought you disappeared. it rains a lot this time of year… and miss you, i’m going back home to the west coast. i wish you would have put yourself in my suitcase.”
and i forgot again, if you were right there, in the front of my brain, all over again because it happened, or it was a dream.
i felt, and therefore learned, two things today: the west coast is home. and it was a dream.
last night i left my credit card at the bar. i was sober. and tired. it was one of my favorite bars so i called at 1:54 when i realized that i left it, which was as walked in the door to my house. so today i had to go back to retrieve my trusty companion.
i decided to bring my camera. and am i ever glad that i did. the perish trust, an awesome antiquey store on divisadero, was open. i strolled in to peruse the typewriters, as i always do, and was just consumed with love for the place. per usual. and then i just went for it and asked. i said, “do you mind if i take some photos in here?” and he said, “oh of course not. i mean, this is the magic time. with the sun where it is, and all.”
there really ain’t no difference, in michigan and maine… if you ain’t here to see this, i’m missing just the same.
open all night (seveneleven)
so i have 61 minutes to write this. until it’s tomorrow. and there is so much i want to say. and so much i can’t, in a public forum. for two main reasons. one, she will think everyone will know. two, he will know.
and mostly, he should know. a friend of mine, that i ran into at the bar in my neighborhood (place pigalle, <3) said to me tonight, “steph… what?! you have to tell him. he has to know. i mean, from all the advice you give……. he has to know.” and that probably sums up my dating life post B. cause in my last serious relationship, in a schema fitting way, I was the needy one. what?! i know. i was independent, and self able, and that didn’t matter. for the reason that we fit each other’s bad relationship habits, he treated me like i was needy. so what am i now (or was until self enlightenment through blogging as therapy)? the one that plays it too cool. the one that is not allow to say what, and how, and why, most importantly, exactly when.
so, i’m working on that. the feelings part. and then, ugh (even harder) the telling of the feelings part. so yea. i feel good about my progress.
the second thing, though, is that i have realized (in the same capacity of listening to my intuition, even when it’s confusing) that other people’s opinions, and thoughts, and concerns, and ‘perspective’ (yes, in quotes) is really only relevant when balanced with my own thoughts, feelings, and needs. or any one’s.
what this really leads to is this- only the two people involved really, truly, know what is shared, felt, and exists in the relationship. therapists, and enlightened friends can offer advice, and suggestions, and perspective…all they want. but the only people that know what is right, are the two in the relationship.
and more often than not, other people’s thoughts, concerns, opinions… they are wrong. they absolutely do not have the whole story. but, nevertheless, they will entice you to spiral into questioning yourself, your relationship, your relationships that they have nothing to do with, and ugh.
the only people that know are you and them. he and she. she and he. she and she. he and he. enough is enough.
and in an environment where people love to talk, but also be incestuous… i learned the hard way. well, people that spiraled far far past anything that they knew, or had to do with… you were way off. way, way off. see second paragraph of this post, ok. it has nothing to do with anyone you know. or think you know.
i’m too scared to ask the right questions, and too tired to fill the right shoes. so i’ll take advantage of the blues.
