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Thursday, November 15, 2007

Part of the story: Happy Birthday!

This is how this story begins:

I was a newish graduate student at a fine university in Southern California. Not the one with the good football team. The one with the good basketball team. I was helping a woman with her senior thesis. I met her through the lesbian rap group on campus. I encouraged her to present her senior thesis at a regional conference I was also going to attend. Academics present papers at conferences. It's a thing. And this woman thought she might want to go to graduate school.

I rode up to the conference with this woman and her girlfriend. I was a little intimidated by her girlfriend. She was sexy, had a shaved head, and rode a motorcycle. The girlfriend had a two door SUV and I, as the non couple person, rode in the back on the way to Davis, where the conference was to be held. On the way up, I bought a small packet of bite-sized Pecan Sandies. I dropped one and stepped on it. I didn't mean to. When the girlfriend saw this, she teased me. I thought she was mad. She wasn't.

This is part of the story too:

The senior thesis woman broke up with her girlfriend. The (now ex) girlfriend stopped by and left a note on my office door. Later that summer she gave me a large lemon that looked like a breast.



It looked more like a breast than that one does.  I loved that lemon because I loved the woman who gave it to me.  I didn't know that when she gave me the lemon.  I suspected, but I didn't know.

Later on this becomes part of the story:

The (now ex) girlfriend becomes my girlfriend. Because she knows I can, she often asks as we go to sleep at night, "will you tell me a story?" And I do tell her stories until she falls asleep.

Sometimes, when I say something innocuous (because I talk too much and say too much), she says to me, "that wasn't a very good story." She's right, when she says that. Not all stories can be good, but I should try harder to give her good stories.

So here's another piece of the story:

My honey starts a new chapter of her story today.



Here's the last part of the story for today:

When the former graduate student, now sometimes professor, often administrator woke up this morning, she saw her love asleep.  She made up a stupid song that she sang to her love in celebration of 40 years of life.  It was a silly song, that got sort of squeaky at the end.  She thought it was ok, though, because sometimes the story is about breast lemons and squeaky songs.

_________

So, happy birthday, sweeties.  I can't wait to see how your story moves on from here.

6 comments:

Deborah said...

Much more motivation to squeeze lemons now, thank you. Thank you kindly.

I can hardly wait either. This part of the story---very nice. Happy Happy Day!

WenWhit said...

Awww, this is so cute, Sporks. I loved it.

Good things to you and your birthday girl. :)

Teresa said...

The weird part was that the lemon was one of two given to me by my mother…

Thank you, Sporks, for all the stories you've ever told me and all the silly songs you've made up on my behalf. I really don't care to think about how these last 13 years might have played out without you.

Val said...

AAAAAAW... very sweet. I love romance! Long may it live!

treecup said...

God, that was beautiful!

Happy birthday T!

The Misanthrope said...

All the best to both of you for the years to come. Here is to finding good lemons.