Because drama makes me cringe (It also gives me hives)
“Fighting is essentially a masculine idea; a woman's weapon is her tongue.” ~Hermione Gingold
I heart Sarah Brown. So when she requested material for the pilot of Cringe, hell, whenever she requests anything for Cringe, I whimper. For I have nothing Cringe worthy. I really, really don’t. One, most of my material has long been missing, Two, nothing makes me cringe about it, it just makes me laugh my ass off, but if that counts then so be it. Because the wonderful part about getting older is that everything that was once so dire and serious becomes so trite and ridiculous.
It’s not like I’ve been full of wisdom for years – more like full of bullshit – but I somehow missed that whole acting stupid and drama filled over a boy, crap. That’s what all the super cringey stuff from youth comes from. Well I skipped over it. I listened to Green Day, sported flannel and wide leg Jnco jeans, but never liked or really dated for that matter until college. Not to mention that that whole ‘pulling of hair of the boy you like, chasing him around the playground’ crap, was few and far between as well. But I’d be remiss not to mention the stolen kisses I gave to Matt A. in the 3rd grade during spelling. Oh and Jason, who I totally thought I would marry, and his braces.
I suppose I just never could endure or allow myself to go through all the stupid drama filled crap that goes with lusting after someone. I’ve always found girls who get all ‘woe is me’ because Johnny thinks they to be dreadfully melodramatic, to be terribly pathetic. That’s not to say that I’m not pathetic, because I can be, just rarely over the male subject.
Despite my ever cool past, it all has slowly caught up to me since the summer of 2001. During which I began a string of infatuations with the opposite sex that all make me die a little inside when I even remotely think about them. Apparently I have more drama in me than one would imagine. Apparently I can barely hold my own before flinching back because “OH MY GOD! A penis! Must. Act. Like. An. Idiot.” And so on and so forth and it’s sad and I now probably owe several males flowers and chocolates and football tickets. There should also be some groveling because of the inevitable drama that ensues.
It’s overwhelming how drama filled females can be. I speak not only from personal experience with my own melodramatic Oscar caliber performances, but because lately I’ve been bogged down with it. Though it’s mostly vicarious, it’s still annoying and mind numbingly ridiculous. I’m sick of it. Not only when it comes to males but when it comes to everything. It’s like we, as females, can never let anything go and have to be obsessed with things and our elephant-like memories get the best of us. There are moments when I rethink what I’ve done or said and I roll my eyes and question who said that? And what meds is this girl on? Something strong I would suppose.
Realizing this and admitting it doesn’t mean that things will necessarily change, given that so many of us females are wired to behave just so. But it makes me so much more aware of why there are times that men are terrified. Hell, I am terrified, when approached by someone far more meaner and vindictive than
It makes me want to do a quick PSA for those holding an XY chromosome and say that yes, women can be crazy and stupid and ridiculous. Also, be particularly cautious of the girls with the clear heels, ‘cause they have some serious cooties.