A little bit dramatic
“Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.” ~Alfred Hitchcock
Contrary to what might across via the written word, I am not all that dramatic. Unless that is I’m alone and well, we’re just not going to go there right now, point is; I don’t do drama. I do not like drama, I do not like to get involved with drama, and if one so chooses to give me any sort of gossip pertaining to potential or ongoing drama, I get my gossip, smirk, and then move on.
In some ways this is most fortunate. It means that I’ve spent a majority of my life only worrying about myself and really not giving a fuck about others. The bad part of this is that I’m always the last to figure shit out and am usually found walking around aimlessly. I’m often the last to discover that Jane is sleeping with Joe or that John just seriously fucked up. I have a friend that compares me to Massachusetts Avenue: At times moving somewhat quickly, but far more often than not, at a stand still where nothing. gets. through. I’ve been compared to the slowest fucking road on the planet and far from the information super highway that I need to be in order to succeed.
What can I say? It’s just that at times, I don’t care. Whatever drama that so happens to cross my path is usually brought on by my own carelessness and stupidity or that I’m mildly interested in why Beth is fighting with Sara because I enjoy being entertained. Period. Lately on my adventures in perusing the interwebosphere, I’ve read interesting things of various events that have transpired thus some caustic and somewhat vitriolic language used to describe one’s feelings about themselves or others. On the one hand, I’m scrunching my brow and thinking ‘What the fuck did I miss?’ and then I – at times – inquire. On the other hand, though it doesn’t involve me, should I also feel this way? Or really, should I care. Obviously if it has nothing to do with me, I shouldn’t, but still there’s a slight pang of wondering what the hell is going on.
I’m pretty sure that Peg spent much of my childhood wanting to beat me due to my incessant nosiness. Everything was for adults only: Little pitchers, big ears and all that bullshit. I suppose I can understand it now. Most things going on that have nothing to do with me so I should stay out. Furthermore, I just don’t deal well with the drama. And honestly the thought of dealing with more shit than I already have to deal with gives me hives. So that’s it. I shouldn’t get involved in other people’s shit because I’m too selfish and have my own crap to deal with. But damn, a girl does need the occasional nugget of gossip to keep things going, because entertainment at the expense of others is still good entertainment.