I really love linguist Deborah Tannen’s work (and I think every writer should read her books before tackling conversations between characters) so I was excited to read her recent article in New York magazine about female friendships.  She writes,

As a linguist, I’ve tried to figure out how language can be both an unseen source of trouble in relationships and the key to making them better; why it can be so comforting when an exchange feels perfectly tuned, or so disconcerting when it goes awry; and how the words we use to describe relationships can also help to define them.

Specifically, why do we call some women our close friends?

While some people used the term to mean people they see often, more women used it to mean someone they spoke to intimately.  “True friends, I tell them everything I feel and everything I think.”  I’m assuming that by “everything,” they mean a curated intimacy.  (There are people I speak with more openly and I would never hide a major moment in my life from them, but everyone gets a curated intimacy.  I don’t think anyone out there wants to know everything I feel and think.)

But it’s not really the information imparted, it’s the fact that someone is willing to listen.  You can have a close friendship without imparting anything you wouldn’t technically tell the rest of the world: “You feel closer to someone if you know they care about where you went, what you ate, and who you saw. ”

I thought that was the most interesting part of the research.  Closeness isn’t defined by what is being revealed.  It’s not as if people need to spill their secrets to consider each other close friends.  It’s entirely based on whether we believe the other person cares.

It made me think about how often I reach out (an action that lets other people know I care) or how well I listen.  The types of questions I ask.  Am I good friend?  Someone worth being close with?  Do other people think they can be themselves with me?

I aim to be someone “you can just be sitting quietly on a log and feel good and happy that you are with that person.”  Whether I achieve that is determined by other people.  But I can say, on my part, that I’m grateful for my log-sitting close friends.

Okay, yet another post (like the first one) inspired by Every Exquisite Thing.  I’ve finished the book by this point, and I mostly liked it.  At the very least, it has given me a lot to think about.  Once again, you don’t have to read the book to think about these posts.

On page 103, the author in the book (by which I mean the author of the book inside the book) emphatically states that they will not discuss his “failed” novel.  The main character responds that it wasn’t a failure, and the author asks why she thinks it “succeeded.”

“It’s my favorite novel. Alex’s, too. And this kid Oliver who Alex—”

“I know all about Oliver. Alex writes about him constantly. But is that the purpose of writing a novel—to be someone’s favorite novelist? Is that why we write or make art? Do you think that’s why I wrote that book? For you? You and Alex and Oliver didn’t even exist when I went mad for literature and sent that collection of desperate words to New York City. I didn’t write it for you. No, I certainly did not.” There was anger in his voice, which was not like Booker.

“For whom did you write it, then?” I asked.

He smiled and said, “You won’t get your answers that easily.”

In general, I agree with Booker, the author. He didn’t write the book for the people who became the fans of the book because those people didn’t even exist when he first wrote it.  Those people may see it as a success, but in Booker’s mind, there is another reason for writing his novel, and he is a failure when it comes to that reason.  He can’t be successful by this fan’s standards; he has to be successful by his own standards, his own reasons for writing.

It made me think about our blogs and how we deem them successful or not.  I don’t write my blog for you.  I mean, I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you keep reading.  I love that part of blogging — talking about stuff that appears on the screen — but even if you weren’t here, I would keep writing.

The reason I see my blog as a success is due to my reason for writing it: to take everything out of my head and make sense of it outside my brain.  To hear other people’s thoughts and see my words in a different way.  If I’m leaving behind things in my brain, I wouldn’t call it a success.  But I’m pretty good at vomiting out words right now, so… sure, chalking this up to a success.  That could always change in the future.

Other people may deem this space a success for other reasons, but I judge the success of Stirrup Queens on whether I’m hitting the mark when it comes to the reason why I write it.

So think about why you blog or write (or blogged or wrote in the past tense if you’ve stopped) and tell me if your work has been a success based on your reasons for blogging or writing.

I wonder if this post will make anyone start writing again who stopped when they realize maybe they were a success in the first place…

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

Atlas Obscura had a post on mystery hikes in the 1930s.  The opening says it all:

On March, 23, 1932, crowds descended upon Paddington Station, London after paying expressly for the privilege of being kept in the dark. They enthusiastically waited for a train with no known destination. Even the conductors had no idea where they would go. They were going to be passengers on London’s very first Hiker’s Mystery Train Express.

They boarded a train with no clue where they would end up.  This activity became very popular in several countries, and it was viewed with the same regard as today’s glampers.  It’s hiking, but it’s not really hiking.  The point is not knowing where you’ll end up.

I peeked at the current travel companies that do this sort of thing, though the first involved flights and the second involved places I didn’t really want to go.  I think I would love this if it was low-commitment, like the mystery hike.  A single day, ending up who knows where, with a bunch of other people who are all in the same situation.  Not so much if it’s a trip for multiple days.

Would you go on a mystery hike?  A longer mystery trip?

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to emotional immune systems since reading No Kidding in NZ’s post about her internal bad guys.  (How is that for convoluted?  I’m responding to a post that is a response to one of my posts.)

So we have our actual immune system that protects our bodies by fighting off disease-causing entities.  But then we also have an emotional immune system that protects our emotional health by fighting off negative-feeling entities.

Infertility (and all trauma) compromises our emotional immune system.

You know how when your actual immune system is compromised, your body can’t fight off simple infections and what is usually manageable becomes possibly deadly?  I think the same thing happens with our emotional immune systems.

When you have a robust emotional immune system, you can handle rude questions or friendship slights.  But when your emotional immune system is beaten down by a trauma such as infertility, you can’t fight off feelings or bounce back from moments as easily.  When your defenses are down — and infertility brings your defenses down — you get emotionally sick.  That could manifest as an emotional cold lingering much longer than it would if you were emotionally healthy or it could be a more frightening emotional illness.

I guess it helps me to think of it that way because just as we’d never say that someone with a compromised immune system is weak or they should just stop getting sick so damn much, it makes no sense to say those things to someone with a compromised emotional immune system.

And beyond that, it helps a person to be gentle with their own heart.  Be kind to yourself, will you?  Especially as we approach Mother’s Day.

Image: Stuart Webster via Flickr via Creative Commons license

The bathroom renovation continues.  In some ways it feels like it will never end.  I know that isn’t possible; one day the guys will have to pack up their drop cloths and leave.  But right now, I cannot imagine a day when someone doesn’t show up at my house at 8 am and start hammering.

We are at the point where I know their coffee preferences and start pouring the cup before they’ve gotten out of the truck.

Being around people all day makes me tired.  Even when they’re upstairs and I’m downstairs, I am on alert, ready to answer questions or give an opinion.  I am accustomed to being by myself since my only in-office co-worker is Linus.  Every night after they leave, my nervous system feels inflamed from all the togetherness and noise.

One day we will have a functional bathroom again.  Right?

*******

Stop procrastinating.  Go make your backups.  Don’t have regrets.

Seriously.  Stop what you’re doing for a moment.  It will take you fifteen minutes, tops.  But you will have peace of mind for days and days.  It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “MicroblogMondays: Life Storybook” (A Woman My Age)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Look No Tubes has a post about romance and IVF after reading a quote in a tabloid.  She explains: “A couple who are having their second child naturally after a first IVF baby have claimed that IVF is ‘just as romantic’. Really.”  She has her own list of what makes IVF unromantic, but I’m sure people could find plenty to add.

Mojo Working is back with an update and a sad post.  She writes, “It’s tempting to just walk away from this blog without an update, to leave my happy ending intact for those who may stumble upon this later. But it would be disingenuous at best. Because my happy ending at the birth of my second child didn’t signal a happily ever after, not in any sense.”  I know people will want to circle the wagons if her post didn’t pop up in your feed reader.

I really love how Res Cogitatae breaks down what is working and not working in her life right now.  Mostly because of the matter-of-factness about it; whether something is or is not working isn’t the focus.  It’s more that there are these various pieces of life that are all fitting together or bumping into one another.  It makes failings feel less like failings (and winnings feel less like winnings) and more just facts.  Great way to look at your month.

Lastly, ending on another sad post.  Kmina has a beautiful post about grieving her father who recently died.  It begins: “Years and years ago I had this silly (but otherwise strong) opinion that important things that happened to a person were visible to the other if only the others had paid attention.”  Meaning, that even when we don’t tell people what is happening in our life, they should be able to know what is going on because those moments are too large to be contained inside the person.  Those feelings come out through our pores.  Except, of course, they don’t know.  The line that gutted me: “No one knows how it is to be me missing my daddy. They know how it feels to miss their own dad.”  Go over and read the whole thing.

The roundup to the Roundup: The never-ending bathroom renovation.  Your weekly backup nudge.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between April 28th and May 5th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.