I have always been a big fan of script writing.  I got my first real taste in high school, in English class.  We had to re-write Romeo and Juliet’s balcony scene into modern English, but also to present the same scenario in a updated way.  Romeo isn’t wearing a doublet, he’s wearing an Adidas sport coat (as was the rage when I was in high school) with a beaten and worn out baseball cap pulled tight over his head (in case his hair might try to escape).  Or the lovely Juliet, not wearing a dress but a pair of flared jeans and an band t-shirt, probably something ultra-hip like The Spice Girls (Oh, 1998).

Beyond all my school script writing and all the scripts I wrote taking Radio and Television in college, I do it in my head too.  If you’ve ever spent time with me, or read any of the back journals in this blog, or had the misfortune of communicating via the internet, you would I know I vocalize (or put fingers to keyboard) my inner scripts.  I am placed in a situation, and in my mind I play out all the ways it could unfold and end.  It doesn’t seem that strange until you start doing it out loud.  It occasionally confuses people.  “What?  Did that happen?”  “No, but imagine if it did?”.  I have friends who will play this game with me until the story (starting out small) will take on epic proportions.  A minor paper cut will lead to a high speed chase in a stolen ambulance that somehow reunites a homeless man with his estranged family and keeps an asteroid from hitting Earth.  Yep.

A few months ago, Cortejo said something to me about “scripts”.  I was already paying attention but I was paying extra attention now.  Scripts.  I get scripts.  Love them.  Do tell!  She told me that people work off of a script for their lives.  Expectations of how things will go, how things will unfold and how certain events lead to other milestones.


When I was 5, I thought I was going to grow up to be a doctor.  Marry my best friend Andy and have 2 kids, and a unicorn.  Oh, and we’d live in a mansion and be really tall (because adults are really tall).

Only, I had to revise that.  Andy fell out of his tree house and died.  No more best friend, no more future husband.  It was also the point where someone had to explain to me that not all accidents can be kissed better, or fixed with a trip to the doctor.  If doctors couldn’t save my best friend, I didn’t want to be one.  Oh…and I’m not all that tall.  (I guess I won’t be getting a unicorn either…)

When I was in high school, I thought I would become a famous film director, married, no kids and stinkin’ rich.

Except…I’m a radio personality, a lesbian (not single, but not married), still no kids (but they are in my life more than I thought they ever would be) and cash strapped.

Scripts.  The way we expect life to play out.  So, imagine my surprise when I figured out I was gay.  Or that my parents didn’t love me because I was gay.  Or that a year after that I didn’t believe in monogamy.  And when I told my friends that I had fallen in love with my girlfriend in a very unconventional relationship (it feels normal and right, but it isn’t the societal norm), the common question (after the “aww’s” of course) was “But what does that mean?”.

Now it was my turn to ask a question, “What do you mean?”

“Think of the situation.  You love her.  She loves you.  Where can that go?  You have so much to look forward to, and she’s already done it with someone else.”

I laugh at this (it’s what I do).  I have waited 25 years (ish) to fall in love with someone, and never in those 25 years did I ever think that love had to hinge on something.  I love her.  That’s what it means.  It doesn’t involve promises, further commitments, restrictions on our relationship or anything else.  It means that when I look at her, I feel something more meaningful than lust or something deeper than just a friendship.  It means I care about her, her well being and what’s going on in her day to day life.  I trust her.  Why would anyone want to clip the wings of those feelings with rules or promises (especially ones you don’t intend to keep).  Yes, she has experienced things that I have not.  It doesn’t mean that I still can’t or that by accepting her love that I have to sacrifice my own wants and needs in order to feel this way.  That’s not love.  Not to me.

But…You grow up, you fall in love, you get married, you have babies.  That’s the script.  Nothing wrong with that script.  It’s a good one.  Lots of people do it and do it well.  I’m not knocking it.  If my parents hadn’t followed it, then I wouldn’t be here today.  If everyone followed my script of being in a same sex relationship without the prospect of kids, the human race would be doomed.  DOOMED!  I’m just saying, that’s not the script of my life.

I feel like when December happened, I threw the script out the window.  It’s been a rough few months as I try to fly by the seat of my pants.  But it’s my own doing.  I’m not being steered into anything by destiny, or what society thinks a good girl should do.  Deep down, in the inner workings of my mind, I might have some sort of storyboard for my life…but if I do, I’m not cognitive of it.  I’m okay with that.

I’m not where I thought I would be by 25, and that’s okay.

I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be. -Douglas Adams


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