I've decided that in my old age I've garnered a strategic high horse position that perhaps does not equate well with my new soap box tendencies, or better known as my blogging. It's a shitty Monday, and I'm fucked in a not so good way as I find myself in part 3 of my flu trilogy (let's hope I don't pull a Rocky and go beyond this). Illness has a way of making me reflective, or is that contemplative, well, either way Advil has some serious neuro-stimulating capabilities and I've seen the last couple of years of my life in a well documented, our-Florida-trip-with-grandma style slide show in vivid technicolor. And I kinda wish I had some herb so I could forget it all. Ah, unfortunately my very active mind is not only working on the flashback of my days past, but is somehow trying to string together academic sounding sentences about how well I know....hmm, what was that again? shit...oh yeah, participatory development. Something to do with participating in stuff, you know what I mean, its all a blur really and I'm feeling that may be where I'm going wrong. Un-blur mind, un-blur.
So these flashbacks, akin to a little wavy fade out with Wayne's World sound affects, is sort of messing with my system. It seems like because I have a blog I can now vent about other people in ways I never could before, umm if we don't count my mind, screaming into my pillow, or routine visits to my Dr. Phil catchy Texan phrases handbook ("you need to listen to your body because your body is listening to you"...yeah, still trying to figure that one out). I spent last night in a bar full of rowdy, grown but still frat boys at heart, New England Patriots fans finally understanding how the American economy is entering a recession (it's the men, they're like animals, but in human form, and they really like their chicken wings!). That's besides the point, though, because the real meat of the story is the general drama permeating my little corner of the sports bar. It seems that although I have great friends none are apparently too old for drama, and in our collective old age (mid 20s and beyond) the drama just gets juicier and more destructive (with a tiny hint of dysfunction).
I was watching Gossip Girl earlier, but please don't judge me for that. It is clearly the most vapid, and obscenely ridiculous show I have seen since the likes of Beverly Hills 90210 and its Siamese twin (with better cat fights) Melrose Place. The fashion is better, but the melodrama the same. Topics of the day? Gossip and drama. In what form? Obligatory pregnancy scares, the always fascinating eating disorder, lots of unruly sex with multiple partners (STD's don't dare enter the Upper East Side), drinking problems, drug problems, and the must-have great venture to the other side of the tracks to find "the one" while simultaneously showing how "money doesn't matter". Right. So as I bypass writing my paper for my fascination of this project in modern teen life, I find myself mocking the pathetic drama that unfolds in each episode. Until my Advil kicks in and I say to myself...is the drama of my life that much different? As absolutely boring as my life is, my friends tend to add to it with their constant source of TV style antics. Granted we don't go to prep schools or wear couture, but we somehow manage, in our jeans and sneakers, to do just as many fucked up things.
Pregnancy scare anybody? Yeah, quite a few actually. Best friends one day and not the next? Sure, I'll take a couple. Was a boy the culprit? Ah, I would have to say more than once. Drugs? Sure! Alcoholism? Even better! Substance abuse is so the new black. Real life drama is like a painstakingly clear TV screen. This high horse I'm on may have made it difficult to see it very well, but see it I did. And thanks to overpriced, over the counter drugs I even made it a point to think about it as well. The conclusion? Fuck Gossip Girl. Get a slide show of my life and I'll show you ratings. Upper East Side....ha! It doesn't take money to get good drama.
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