Defining Stories

Dear beloved readers,

I wish I knew why this week seemed to be 5 years long. I guess it be like that sometimes…The weather is cloudy and rainy and it it’s making me slightly more depressed than usual, and if I am being quite honest, I had more bad days than good ones this past week. Again, I guess it be like that…But after a few nights up until the unholy hours and missing two nails, I can say that I survived. Barely.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading this week, which is great. I am trying to reconnect with my creative, more poetic side, which proved to be a bigger challenge than I anticipated, but I will get there eventually. I am currently in class, not ditching it this time, and while my group of friends are sitting a little ahead of me rambling about some Halloween party they will be attending this weekend, one I am not going, but that’s not important…I am currently trying to figure out what this post will be about.

Truth being told, I had something stuck in my mind all week. I am currently reading – and loving – Busy Philipps’ biography, “This will only hurt a little” and it is as brilliant and entertaining as she is. Busy is one of my favorite celebrities – not only because we share the same birthday – so I made an exception to read this one since I loathe any sort of biography, yes one of the many Barbra’s included. But Busy’s book is anything but boring and it doesn’t involve any sort of ghost writing either, which now a days is nothing but refreshing and dare I say, unusual. But I am not here today to shade on any celebrity per se. I am here because, as funny and exhilarating as Busy can be, she did mention in one of her first chapters something that made me squirm uncomfortably and bothered me all week.

On her second chapter, she mentions that her therapist says that everyone has one defining story, the story that basically sums up who they are and why they are the way they are, she says. She also says that she has like half dozen of this defining stories, and after stressing over this all week, I get to say that maybe so do I. I guess Busy and I have a whole lot more in common than our birthday date. So, defining stories, defining moments. If you asked my mom what was mine, she would tell you an awfully embarrassing story of my theatre presentation in kindergarten when I, not satisfied with the main role in the play, simply had to pull the Hermione Granger and know every single line of every character of the play and when, one of my colleagues, not only missed his placement, but said his line wrongly, I stopped the whole thing, repositioned him and corrected his line, still in character, took a deep breathe and went on with my part. Safe to say the whole audience went nuts laughing and my mom tells this story with her chest filled with pride since this is the moment, as she says, that she knew I was a little unstoppable hurricane. I say that is the moment I truly knew I was a sodding proud, attention whore Gryffindor. Proudly, always but still.

My answer, per se, when Busy mentioned those defining stories and gave me a headache while trying to truly figure out what mine was, is that I have no goddamn idea. Yes I do have a few memories, moments, stories that maybe when you ask about my life, I will remember with a soft smile on my lips and I will tell you and I guess you will get me a little more with that. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder: What if, even with stories that somehow defined me in a way, I don’t have any true, life changing defining moment?

I guess I can always say that I am too young to have an answer for that. Even though I wanna relate with Busy as much as possible with her book and even though I do consider myself a little old for my age, I am not old enough to have lived all that much, even though when I look at my past posts in this blog I confidently disagree with that statement. But the thing is, even if my mom has an answer, and her answer involves a very young me, why don’t I have a story that defines my old self?

Maybe my defining story is this blog. Every post, every paragraph, every dramatically written line. Maybe, between ‘And it got me wondering’s and confusing stories, all of this became the defining story of my life.

Or maybe, it’s what I wrote in my books, not what I wrote precisely but the way I felt after I was done with them. Maybe my defining story is the life-changing kiss that I was too drunk to remember, or that time I walked in the middle of the night to Tiffany’s in New York and I knew that this life, this destiny was meant to be mine or my first love and my first heartbreak. Maybe it is the story about me getting in college, moving out of my hometown and never looking back. Maybe it is a sum of all the little moments that I don’t remember, and that to me don’t quite matter, but who are there nonetheless and mean something either way.

Maybe it is yet to come. I like to believe in this one better, because really if any of the ones I mentioned about are my defining stories, I gotta say I feel pretty boring because really, even my mother’s story sounds more exciting than that. So I am choosing to think that this story that will define me, perhaps change my life in an amazing, crazy way, is yet to come. And I also like to think that really, if there were any defining story, I would know it by now, I mean it is meant to be the story after all, and I guess I would know, I just would. So when it happens, I will know. Maybe it will give me more comfort to know that I have a great defining story, maybe I will call Busy Phillipps and tell her that I too had one, even though everyone seems to have at least one, or a dozen. I don’t know why this is driving me mad, why I want to have one too, but all I can promise from now is that once I have my story, I will most certainly tell you all about it.

Until next week, I hope I get to have not a defining moment worth a good story, but at least something exciting to write and tell. And if you know your defining story, or if you have a dozen of them, please tell me ‘cause I would love to hear all about that. As always stay out of trouble, even if I do have the impression that all defining stories will come with at least some trouble paired with it…So if you do get in trouble, in order to get a good story or just for the sake of being your usual, crazy little self, just tell me all about it.