A story about stories

First off, I found a picture of the formerly mentioned red riding boots, if you a curious (or you know, wanting to find the perfect gift for me) here is the link: http://theblackapple.typepad.com/somegirlswander/2008/10/perfect-red-boo.html

As alluded to by my previous blog entry I view this blog as a place for my many-often unappreciated-stories to live. It seems that I always have a story to contribute to conversations or rants no mater their subject area. Those I love have come to tolerate, and I think love, my stories; those who are just beginning to know me tend to find them bothersome. I can't really help it though. I know my pragmatics and because of this, I know that it is acceptable to contribute to social situations in such a way.

My stories are my memories. Many of them come from times when I was younger; things that made me happy or that had a significant impact on me in some way. Some of them are just a few short sentences. Some of them are lengthy or require background information. I very rarely share the sad stories, though I do have them. I find joy in telling these stories to the people I know and love. It connects me to them in a deeper less superficial way.

I think that you can tell a lot about a person by what they share. So here it is world. Here is my heart.