I love to tell stories. Whatever you say to me will make me think of some story that I just HAVE to tell you. Right now. Sometimes the story I have only marginally relates to whatever you just said, but any connection is enough for me. Besides, tangents are the spice of life, right? Sometimes what you say will make me think of several stories all at once, and then I trip over my own words in an effort to get them all in before you either a) lose interest or b) decide you have your OWN story to tell.* But don't take that the wrong way, because I love hearing your stories, too. And as much as I might have a billion things to tell you, I really do like for there to be plenty of give and take in a conversation. Please share your stories with me-- I like to collect all the best ones and bring them up in other conversations!
This can lead to problems, though. The most obvious is that I tend to talk obsessively. Some people (like Craig) enjoy it. Some people don't. Those people tend to not become very good friends with me, and I guess that's okay. I had a Young Women's leader who once told me to never worry about being popular, because when I have kids, I'll be the most popular person I know. She was right, and these days, that's enough popularity for me! (<--- See? A quick story!)
I've also had times when I begin to tell a story, only to realize partway through it that I'm telling you your own story. That's kind of embarrassing. But aren't you glad I was paying attention and that I enjoyed your story so well I thought it was worth repeating? If you look at it in the right light, it's sort of a compliment. Not annoying at all!
And of course, there's the danger that I will repeat my story to you. I do that a lot. I know. I don't mean to, but it just happens. Especially if we're sitting with a group of people and some of them may not have heard this story yet. (Poor Sarah, my VT companion of three years now, has had to sit through the story of Kendra's birth more times than I would care to count. She's very patient about it, though.) I usually try to begin with some sort of disclaimer like, "Stop me if I already told you about this, but..." But even if you do gently remind me that you've heard it before, I'll still probably have to at least give you the punchline once more. It's so hard not to!
And of course, whenever I hang out with friends who read my blog (like at Book Club today), I start to worry that every story that I tell is something I already posted on my blog, and I'm boring everyone stiff. Sorry about that, fellow Book Clubbers!
Anyway. While I was typing this, Bentley discovered my hand lotion and rubbed a whole lot of it into his hair. Time to stop thinking about stories and start dealing with the ones happening all around me!
*This was an entirely new concept to Craig. He had never thought of "conversation" as being a competitive thing. Obviously he didn't grow up with four sisters all vying for Mom's attention.
7 comments:
My mom has six kids and she always forgets who she tells things to, and we would always make fun of her for telling us the same story 3-4 times. Then we became adults and realized we had the exact same habit. AJ laughs at me all the time, especially when I tell him his own stories.
I love Kendra's birth story and have retold it myself! I figure it's ok to swap.
Jen, you have no idea how happy your comment made me. I have to confess that I may be guilty of telling people why Lizzie-in-utero preferred to stay on one side of you... I won't go into the details on my blog, but I think it's such a great story!!!
lol Alanna, I do the same thing. I'll be in the middle of telling Ben something I 'just thought of/remembered' and he'll say, 'yes, I know. You told me yesterday and the day before.' It happens to the best of us. :) And for the record I don't remember any repeat stories but even if you did, it doesn't bother me! :)
I remember hanging out with Nicole one time towards the end of our time in Paris, and I kept repeating stories. Her comment was something along the lines of, "We've only been friends for 3.5 months, have you already run out of stories??" It was pretty funny.
The other day, a couple of friends came over for a girls' night out, but then Cameron ended up not having to be at the hospital, so he got to join in. He was just laughing the whole time as he wondered if this was always how girls hang out. I assured him it was quite normal, and definitely very fun. :0)
Craig had never thought of conversation as competitive? Weird... I didn't know there was any other type of conversation! Why just the other day an engaged couple in my ward told me they'd be hiking Mt. Timp the day I got married. I pointed out to them that I'd be on a beach in Cancun the day they got married. Competitive, and a story. I must be a Bentley. :)
I am rarely apologetic about my story-repeating (or constant sharing). I think a solid story needs to be repeated so often that all of your other friends have not only heard it, but can immediately see the point you are making when you only reference it with a mini snippet “like how Amber met Brent!...”. Similar to the snippets of scripture stories that we bring up in Sunday School discussions, “like Nephi killing Laban!”, that don’t usually need full explanations, but still make the point just by reference.
(Not that my crazy roommate stories should be compared to scripture…)
But even with that being said, I still usually retell the whole thing. Just in case.
Jeff definitely tells more of my stories (mine, meaning before he came along), than his.
And I’ve even shared your story birthing Kendra.
Also, my mom rarely had too much of a problem remembering who she had told what story to. With only one child of each gender, keeping 1 son reaction and 1 daughter reaction was usually pretty straight forward.
(And even though she claimed many Bentley back-up daughters—none of you were usually IN our house frequently enough for long enough to steal the day-to-day updates.)
UNTIL, Kat came along. Then my mom started telling Kat (her new daughter/daughter-to-be) stories or updates and completely forgetting to tell ME. Apparently, there was an delayed adjustment to her mental quota of how many daughters & sons she had to report to :)
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