everytime I tell a story about anything I get too much into the details. most of the times they’re completely unnecessary but I can’t help it. I could tell a lot of my stories in less than 1 minute. but why would I do that if I can talk for 10 minutes?
sometimes I start telling a story and I start telling the story about another story (that’s not relevant, of course). I start talking about how today it was super cold and I end up talking about why Lorenzo now has short whiskers. both stories are completely related, I promise.
I can talk for hours and hours. if I run into someone that can also do the same, we can talk for hours and hours without finishing any story. but it’s ok. we’d probably laugh a lot.
this is something I’m completely aware of. I know many people don’t get it. I know. why am I taking so much time talking about why I decided not to cut my bangs anymore?
one day my sister asked my mom if she had eaten. my mom told her that she had fallen down during work and her shoe had broken. she had to work with a broken shoe all day long. when she came out of work she decided to go to the
the answer to my sister’s question was yes. but my mom told her
last weekend, I went to an aunt’s birthday. since it’s almost Día de Muertos, I asked my aunt
then she told me about that time she had to go to the bank to exchange some dollars. to get there, she had to walk along a very, very, long street. it was Día de Muertos, btw.
my aunt said that she could help her. then, the lady asked if my aunt knew how to get to the market of Xonaca because she had to buy some things for her muertitos (her dead ones). my aunt didn’t know because she was just getting back from living in another country but told her that maybe in any of the stores of that street, somebody could give her that information.
the lady said thank you and before leaving, she told my aunt: put an
at first, my aunt said something like AJÁ but then she started thinking about how did this lady know that she didn’t put any
the anwer was yes, but it was important for her to tell me the context.
listen, I’m a big fan of el chisme™ (tried to translate it but it doesn’t sound that good, it translates as the gossip) and you could even tell I live for it. I looooove when people tell me stories about themselves.
BUT what I also love is to tell the stories myself. can’t lie. I love it when people are like 😭😱🤭😂 whenever I’m telling something. I like to know that when you’re reading this, you’re listening to my voice inside your head. and that’s not creepy at all.
is this selfish? of course. I’m selfish. I don’t care.
last weekend when I heard my aunt telling her story, I realized I was like
😭😱🤭😂 . tell me more!
and wow. this is such an important skill for parties.
so, answering to the question of why do I tell my stories the way I tell my stories? I inherited it, all of my family is that way.
would it had been possible for me to tell this story in