Drama Queens

Everybody enjoys drama. Just look at TV. We have scripted drama, comedies with dramatic cliff hangers and even reality shows aren’t worth watching if there isn’t an element of drama involved. Couch potatoes of America know... drama is what sells.

Aside from entertainment, though, drama is present in everybody’s life. Even if you’re a hermit, drama will find you. It’s inevitable. Yet, when drama comes knocking at our doors, we all act surprised to see it. And at some point, no matter how much drama tends to be your guilty pleasure, everybody claims to hate it. But we don’t hate it... we love it. We’re just afraid to admit that we love it so much.

It’s been my experience that when a person says they don’t "do drama" they are often the main instigators of drama. It goes back to that old saying of when you’re pointing your finger at somebody, you have three more fingers pointing back at you (or if you prefer the playground saying that involves rubber and glue).

Big time drama instigators will blow things way out of proportion. They’ll over react to something mundane or down right silly. Their over reaction will cause a battle of insults and blame which may or may not turn into an all out war where rules are cast aside and grudges last forever. Friends will be lost, sides will be chosen and lives can be changed.

Another instigator of drama is gossip. Don’t look so innocent... you know you’ve partaken in a juicy secret or two. Who’s sleeping with whom? Who got fired and why? Why did they break up? Why did they show up or go home together? Who’s she and why’s she with him? All in all, it’s rarely any of our business, but we make it our business because we’re bored and have nothing better to talk about.

When secrets get out, fingers get pointed and blame gets passed. Sometimes the reaction is granted and sometimes it is not. But when it gets piled on thick, we all blame drama because it is the easiest scapegoat.

To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, right? That’s one of the basic theories of life. Drama doesn’t just happen. It’s a reaction to events that have been happening over a long period of time. Drama is a direct result of your personality clashing with somebody else’s. It’s the epitome of our darker selves rattling the cage and wanting to get out.

Drama is a mirror into your soul and a lot of times you don’t want to look into that mirror. If we accept drama into our lives and utilize it to figure out how to become better people, perhaps we won’t hate it so much. But it is the human condition to not want to see those things about ourselves that aren’t so pretty... and these are the things that drama usually centers around.

The answer to your drama problems, people, is love. Love yourself and love those who deserve it in your life. Nobody’s perfect. Nobody’s ideal. We all try to put our best foot forward, but sometimes, it’s inevitable that we stumble over that best foot and land face first into the ground.

The Roommate... Nameless.

I'm a 25 year old woman living with another 25 year old woman. We live on the top floor of a big house in the middle of a small town. Downstairs from us lives a family in which the mom stays at home with the young kiddies and prepares to pop out another baby come November. If you made the setting more urban and had the eligible handsome brother of the stay at home mom move in down stairs... you'd have the makings of a sitcom.

But life isn't a sitcom.

I love my apartment. It's cute, eclectic, roomie and it's a great place to pass my time. It really feels like home to me.

I love my roommate, too. She's a friend of mine from Junior High. She moved away in high school, but came back to the area after graduation. We crossed paths about two years ago after not seeing her since she moved away at age 15. We hit it off and picked up where we left off in high school.. and then some.

She was engaged. And, I had a hard time deciding if I liked him or not. When I'd come over to hang out, he was always polite and seemed hospitable. The three of us would engage in long conversations, and he seemed witty and funny while entertaining his fiance's friends. He seemed alright.

It was when she called me after they'd been fighting that I started to have feelings of dislike for him. About a year ago he told her she was too fat (the girl's average sized). Instead of telling to shove it where the sun don't shine (my opinion), she went on a diet and started exercising.

When she lost her job last November he hounded her to get a new job, telling her she was worthless unless she was bringing in some cash. I agree that women should have their own money, but he made enough for the two of them... and if you love somebody they're never worthless, right? He even went so far as to tell her that until she got a job she wasn't allowed to tell him she loved him. She wasn't allowed to kiss him. She wasn't allowed to hug him. And she wasn't allowed to sleep in the same bed with him. This is when I would have left (scratch that... I would have left when he called me fat).

She stuck it out.

Fast forward to April. She calls me one night, frantic and crying. He'd given her two options. One... he pays to fix her car and gives her 500 dollars in start up money and she moves out by the end of the month. Or two... He'll have her forcibly removed. Great.. get out, or get out.

She took the former deal... regretting not having put her name on the deed to her great grandmother's house the two of them shared. She took the money he offered and moved in with me... and here we are.

To say the least, this girl is insecure. She hasn't been on the dating scene since high school, she's used to having her identity spelled out for her, and she's in a really, really, really fragile state right now.

It's been less than three months and we've had a few issues, and they all boil down to the fact that she doesn't love or respect herself.

I fear that she'll continue to let men walk all over her, because she's not giving herself any time to heal after this horrific break up. In fact, for the first month after she moved in with me, her "fiance" was coming over every weekend and fucking her brains out. He finally broke it off when he met a chubby, unemployed girl at a bar. She now lives with him... she's bigger than my roommie and she doesn't work... that's enough to make a girl go insane with questions, too.

I hope she grows up, soon. Because sometimes I feel like I'm living with a teenager. She has mood spells where she doesn't speak to me. During these spells she insists on communicating through notes. It seems she has a new crush every week, and she's constantly on the phone. Doesn't that spell out teenager to you?

I will admit, though, she is working and she does more than her fair share of work around here. Yesterday we had a good talk and I feel like she's growing everyday. In reality I'm proud of her. I hate that things had to get so bad with her ex for her to realize her own needs, but I'm glad that she's finally aware. That's what quarter life crises are for, right?

Are We Still in High School?

The Prom, Friday night football, pep rallies, after school organizations, parties, getting your driver's licence, and graduation. High school can hold some fond memories. Nothing beats that feeling when you're 16, and you have your very own car. You fill it up with friends and go cruisin down some back roads. You have the world at your feet, and you're too young and too immature to know what to do with it.

Just about everybody I know says they wouldn't go back to high school. Mostly, because they've changed since then and they don't like the person they were all those years ago. I think it'd be interesting to run into the 17 year old version of myself. First I'd give myself a hug and then I'd tell myself to buckle up because it's going to be a rough ride.

I'd also like to run into the 50 year old version of myself to see if I survive this quarter life conundrum. Much like the teenage angst years, though, I'm sure I'll survive this semi-charmed life.

It's sad to me, though, when I run into people from high school who haven't changed a bit. I see former football stars sitting at the bar swapping former stats with somebody who graduated ten years before them. They have a smile on their face as they recall the glory they felt when they went to state or won the big homecoming game, but the smile turns into a frown as they realize those days are long behind them. Those days can't be relived. But these are the few people who would like to go back. They walk a lonely path wishing they could be the person they were back then. It's sad to peak in high school.

I have a friend, Dave. He was the class clown. He was a jock. He was a hottie, and he was popular. He still lives in this small town, as do I. We weren't friends in high school. We ran with different crowds, and, as we all know, crowds don't mix well in high school. He did a lot of growing up, though, and it amazes me sometimes at how well rounded of a grown up he turned out to be.

Dave and I don't hang out too often, but when we do we manage to have fun. He gripes about the same things I gripe about and he's passionate about the same things I'm passionate about. It's easy for me to talk to him, and he makes me laugh. When we run into his old friends from high school, he's polite to them, but he never mingles with them for long. He knows they haven't changed, and as an adult he sees them as the adolescents they once were. He says he's almost ashamed to admit he was once one of them.

My friends in high school were the bunch who thought they were mature. They thought the rest of the class just needed to catch up with them. They yearned for the day when the jocks and preps would finally be mature enough to accept them. But, I hate to admit that we were guilty of the same things they did.

They looked down on us for being interested in the things we spent our time doing. But, we looked down on them just as much for being into sports. They never invited us to parties, but then again, we never extended an invitation to them either.

As I've grown into a woman I've let down that barrier and I have no qualms about hanging out with somebody I've "known" for a long time but never really got to know before now. Some of my friends aren't of this same opinion.

I've kept about half the friends I had in high school. I hate to admit that I've lost correspondence with some who were, at one point, very important people in my life. The ones I hang out with on a regular basis have grown up and adopted the same attitude I have. But, there are some who are still in my life who haven't. And, I found out recently that I live with one of them.

My roommate, who I have yet to introduce on here, has recently thrown slander towards Dave. She refuses to really get to know him. She doesn't care to try and understand how people change, even though, she, herself, has changed a lot in recent years. She won't trust herself enough to open her mind to the possibility that maybe he's not the ass he was back then. She can't see that he's grown up and turned into a rather fine man. She simply doesn't trust him with no real reason.

No, she does have a reason. The reason is this guy she's seeing (on the down low). This guy refuses to openly date her because he doesn't want anybody knowing he's back on the market after getting divorced. I, personally, think he's stringing her along and just making it as easy as possible to break it off with her in the future. She, however, sees him as a highly sensitive soul learning to trust again. He says he doesn't trust Dave, therefore she doesn't trust Dave. He, by the way, hasn't spoken to Dave in years. He's judging a man based on who he was as a kid.

This really bothers me, because my friends have, essentially, turned into the people we once despised. If I were easily influenced (like a teenager) I just might jump on the bandwagon and decide that I don't trust Dave as well. But, I can't do that. I like him too much. I like his company. I've seen nothing but proof that he's grown up, and I hate to admit that I haven't seen much in the way of proof that my roommate has grown up.

Sure she's a responsible bill payer and she holds a job. She understands the meaning of living a grown up life, but her mentality is still stuck in high school. She's easily led, and she's easily bothered. She has lower self-esteem than any 15 year old I've met, and she has the tendency to blow things way out of proportion. She, really, needs to grow the fuck up.

I'm getting tired of dealing with her constant insecurities. I'm growing weary of explaining to her that it doesn't matter what people say or think about you as long as you know what the truth is. I'm utterly exhausted with her constant state of boy crazy and her belief that every guy she goes on a date with is her future husband. And I've really, really had it with the fact that she insists on communicating through written notes as if we're in study hall.

She can't do confrontation, and I don't mind confrontation in the slightest. I like to talk out problems and find solutions, where she would rather write down what's bothering her, leave it for me in the living room, and put at the bottom of it that she doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to hear my side. She's allowed to vent, but I, alas, am not.

In short... I'm not a teacher and I'm getting sick of babysitting a 16 year old.

Julie/Perfection

Fresh out of law school, Julie can’t wait for her life to begin. Ever since she was a little girl she was certain about her future. She had no doubt she’d always get good grades. She knew she wouldn’t only graduate high school, but she’d also go to college and become successful. She planned on meeting Mr. Right during her college years, and, if things went her way, she’d be engaged by the time she graduated. After that she’d work no more than four or five years before having her first child. She’d want to be well on her feet and established in her career before bringing a child into this world. Her husband would also be a college graduate, and eager to have kids, as well.

That was Julie’s plan, and unlike most of her friends, her plan is still on track. Her boyfriend of almost a year, Mitch, proposed on graduation eve as she was settling in for the evening. She was wearing an eye mask and just got done smearing her face with night cream when he came into the room. With the cool May night air coming in through the sheer curtains, he got down on one knee and presented her with a ring. Julie started crying behind her eye mask as she said yes. Perfect, right? She was engaged by graduation.

True, Mitch isn’t what she always pictured, but she’s spent the last 11 months (seriously, like right after they met, she started grooming him for marriage) telling everybody that she didn’t mind being the breadwinner of the family. She also said that he didn’t mind, and that was hard to find (implying most men would be jealous of her large paycheck). I suppose it’s true. I mean I read an article about it in Cosmo once. But when she stated this fact to me, I remember wondering if she was trying to convince me... or herself.

Mitch didn’t graduate college. It’s only a slight blemish to her perfect plan, because he can always go back to college. And if it meant having her plan, Julie was willing to put him through on her dime once she was a big-time lawyer.

If you want my opinion she saw that it was getting down to the wire. And, unless she wanted to spend more years in school chasing another degree, Mitch was her last ditch effort on not settling for less than she thought she deserved. And she deserved that rock and that wedding. She’d worked very hard on that.

They met on a dating website, flirted over the phone, went on a date or two, and the next thing you knew she was no longer available to do anything unless it included Mitch. There were the occasional nights when he had to work late (and she could sneak away with her girlfriends), but after a couple of months even those disappeared. For the last 11 months, my friend Julie has been virtually non-existent in my world.

When they first met she tried diligently to keep her girlfriends in her life. She really thought she could do it. She made attempt after attempt to have a social life that somewhat resembled the carefree life she had before meeting Mitch, but it never worked. He’d text her constantly, or call her and pick a fight whenever she was out without him. She’d either be talking to him all night, or in a pissed off mood and not having a fun time at all. Eventually every time she came out, he had to be with her. And that whole time I never saw him pay for a single drink.

She bought a new car, and he got her old one. She took him out for dinner a lot, and she was constantly staying at his place, which was nearly 50 miles away.

One night after partying with Laura, a friend of mine and Julie’s, she drunkenly confessed something to me. She had it on good authority that Julie and Mitch had recently gotten a credit card together. One of their first items bought on it was an 800 dollar suit for him. Laura asked me point blank, "Do you think he’s using her for her money and future money she’s going to make? Because, I kind of think he is."

I honestly couldn't say yes or no. I knew how badly Julie wanted to be married, and I knew how much she said she loved him. But I also knew that Laura wasn't the kind of person who liked to judge people or take a side. She always wanted to be the mediator. She often referred to herself as Switzerland... neutral on all subjects on which people might get upset. So for her to come to me with such a sensitive subject as this, knowing my strong opinions of men I, myself, hold dear, was quite shocking. I sat up and took notice. She was really, genuinely concerned. Worst of all, she feared that Julie might not really love him, but has convinced herself that she has.

At Julie’s graduation party, Laura and I exchanged glances as the happily newly engaged couple announced that they were closing on a house in Mitch’s home town. That’s when I knew I’d lost Julie. From that point on I’d only see her on special occasions, and I’d only hear from her via email or phone once a month. Julie, I fear, has officially been friend-napped.