Saturday, February 7, 2015

Kill the Drama

I’ve seen a trend, a disturbing trend. It was bad a couple of years ago, and it’s only getting worse.



I see so much drama everywhere. I was at a Dollar General one day and the cashier couldn’t check out the customers for her drama. I could hear her telling someone, “Yeah, that’s what happened. He bumped somebody else, and then they called him a name, and first thing you know, they’re down in the dirt fightin’ like dogs. And then he blowed a tar and everythin’ just fell apart. I tole my girl, Angel, I said, ‘I ain’t never seen nuthin’ like this. Ever Saturday night it’s the same damn thing.’ I swear, I’m gonna bust some asses if they keep this shit up.” It took me about three minutes to finally figure out that she was talking about the local dirt track races. You would’ve thought the whole thing hinged on her attendance, based on the way she was carrying on. What should’ve been a two-minute stop turned into ten because of her drama.

But I think the worst place on earth is Facebook. They fight and fuss. They call each other names. They spy on each other.

And the bullying. This one wants you to go to that one’s timeline and post some horrible shit accusing them of something or other. They argue and fight openly. Recently, because an author declined a person’s request for an interview, said person posted some pretty horrible shit. I saw it, something about kids’ heads being cut off, and it was pretty bad. Oh, and along with that was the conspiracy theory rants. Good god.

One of the things I hate the most on Facebook is the dirty laundry. Don’t do it, people. Keep that stuff to yourself. It’s one thing to talk about it within a little group; it’s another entirely to post it and share it and make it all crazy. It’ll come back to bite you in the ass later on. If you want to talk to your friends about whatever's going on, that's fine. But for the love of god, don't go to your blog and type out a three-page treatise on who, what, where, how many times, how deep, how hard, how fast or slow, how many spawn created, etc., etc., etc. And if you decide to do it anyway, don't bitch when other people make comments. You put it out there, so deal with it.

We’ve got several communities here where I live that are nothing but hotbeds for drama. One person I know who lives in one of these communities has it in her head that if you disagree with someone, you hate them. We can’t disagree without hating each other? How eighth-grade of her.

And if something that’s supposedly going on is actually confirmed? Oh my god. Then they really have reason for some drama.

So I’ve got a message for all you drama queens out there.

Cut it the fuck out and grow up.

Really, no one wants to hear all that shit. If they do, they’re part of the problem, not part of the solution. Drumming that stuff up will give you ulcers. It’ll make your hair fall out. You’ll miss out on potentially healthy relationships because those people who could be stable and positive in your life don’t want that shit either.

I’m like that. I don’t understand the need to be in the middle of a shit storm all the time. I like peace and quiet. Sure, I enjoy loud music sometimes. Of course, I like to get polluted and do some sexy dancing with Sir on occasion. Who doesn’t? (It was a hypothetical question, so shut up.) But for the most part, I like my surroundings serene and peaceful. If I want crazy and exciting, I just go to Walmart. You know what I’m talking about. I rest easy at night. I feel good when I get up in the morning. It’s healthy. But all that stuff? It’ll just make you sick and tired. And an insomniac.

And I know where all of that comes from too. So let me set you straight.

Little girls, there is nothing real about reality TV. I know you see all those women fighting and drinking and sleeping around, getting botox injections, falling off their stiletto heels, waiting for a guy to hand them a rose. It’s not real. Let me try that again – IT’S NOT REAL. Real people don’t live like that. If they’ve got brains, that is. It’s all pretend, all for the cameras, all designed to do what? To make you want to live that way so you’ll want to watch and see what they do next.

Do not give TV your life. Reality stars are not people to emulate; they’re people to pity. The money they get for what they do can’t possibly compensate them adequately for the humiliation they put themselves through, if indeed they’re smart enough to feel humiliated. The next time you’re tempted to start a literary screaming match on Facebook, or embark on your sixth rant for the day against your neighbor, think for a minute how much better it would be to go and sit down on your sofa with a glass of tea. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Peaceful. Calm. Smart. Because when you behave that way, you just look like an idiot.

Try reading. Or knitting. Not much of a crafter? Take a little trip to a nursing home to visit someone who has no family. Go play fetch with your dog for thirty minutes. Hell, read a book – that’s probably how you found me and my blog. There are so many things you could be doing, constructive things, while you’re plotting your next rant or engaging in your next drama court.

And while you’re at it, watch just one episode of the Duggars. You’ll never forget your birth control pills again. ‘Cause that shit’s real, girl. And you don’t want to be there. Oh, I’m sure some of it’s real, like somebody spitting nineteen kids out of their vajeen. But all the lovey-dovey, all-the-kids-help-out shit? All for the cameras.

Save yourself some miserable years. Just don’t play into all of that. Take a deep breath and tell yourself, “I’m better than that.” Because you are.

Or you will be if you’ll just turn that damn TV off.