“Stop me if you’ve heard this one.”
Before I met my husband I had a little concern about marriage. I wondered how people could maintain a relationship full of interesting conversation for years on end. I mean, I only had a limited number of stories to tell from my short 17 or 18 years of life. I wondered what I would find to talk about after my husband had heard all my stories.
My fear was confirmed when I had been dating Josh for a few months and he said the dreaded words to me… “you’ve already told this story to me.” Oh my word! I was becoming my Grandmother, repeating stories she just finished telling while everyone politely smiled with tolerant, indulgent expressions frozen on their faces. My fear was confirmed… I was boring.
I knew we could always talk about the present, but the present was still evolving so in my mind it’s not really a story yet. And we could always talk about our dreams for the future, but that was quickly exhausted as well when we admitted that we had no money to do any of the things we dreamed of doing. Sigh. What would we talk about? Would we end up like those dull, married couples that go to a restaurant and sit there staring blandly at their plates as they eat in silence with nothing to say to each other? Lord preserve me from such a fate!
So here I am, blogging. This post is my 201st. I’ve been posting blogs 5 days a week since January of this year. I’m doing pretty well, achieving a particular goal that I set for myself. But I’ve discovered that this blog really kills the Retell Value of all my stories. If I post a story on the blog, I forfeit my chance of telling it again in conversation with my friends here in San Jose, friends on Facebook, and family back home. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started into a story and someone has stepped on my intro. with “Oh Yeah, just like you said in your blog last week! That was great.” I feel like that Chris Farley character from Saturday Night Live who interviews famous people with simple questions like, “Remember when you said, ‘I’ll be back’? Yeah, that was great.” Just call me the Conversation Killer! I have no new stories to tell.
So if you’ve heard this before, just indulge me and let me retell my story for a while. Then it will be less obvious when I start losing my marbles and truly turning into my Grandma.