Little Girl Drama
I am embarrassed, now that I look back, when I remember the events that took place which made me cry, rage and scream as a young tween. As time passes, so do such memories. And yet, nothing is more shame-worthy than when the memories come flooding home as I look at the unfolding drama in my younger siblings’ and students’ lives.
I really have to give it to our teachers back in the day for taking smart measures to keep us from completely running amuck.
It’s now that I remember why I was such a loner in middle and high school. It was the drama. All the ridiculous drama. Why was there even such a thing for children as young as ourselves? Ahh, I’ve given up trying to answer the futile question of the genetic interference with hormones. Thankfully (probably due to the fact that I was a magnificently ugly, round, baby-faced Asian tweenager), I never was very into the subject, and in fact mostly avoided it because I was the last thing one could imagine in the realm of “popularity”. Although I was just as hilariously caught up in all the “drama” in my late-night calls with the best friend (who was much more in on the game of hearing swilling rumors of so-and-so’s latest get-go’s).
So now as I spend my entire 12-hour workdays at school, watching my babies run around and wreak general havoc, I begin to spot the beginnings of “drama” unfold in impressive speed. And of course, it begins with the typical boy trouble. Which I find both hilarious and perhaps a little bit borderline cute (uh-oh, someone should lock me up — I’ve been brainwashed by American consumerism into becoming an entertainment-wild couch potato). My little sisters remind me heavily of myself in a time dated past. Seemingly on the sidelines and claiming to be completely devoid of all relationships to the scenes on hand, and yet just as affected by the drama at hand.
That said, when the topic comes up, I can’t stop snorting and laughing and generally chuckling like a fool. Perhaps because my own embarrassing memories come boiling up at the forefront of my brain. One of the girls has already openly stated her crush on one of the boys, and I can honestly not fully understand her confusing statements. On the one hand, telling everyone she can get her hands on that she has a crush on him, and yet on the other, wailing to me that she hates someone for trying to tell her crush about the information. And perhaps, worst of all, is that I just can’t stop laughing.
I had to pull the girls out for a “counseling session” to make them realize that there are more sides to the “truth” and thankfully, some of that has crossed over. But I find it absolutely hilarious that I get pulled aside to “talk” by each girl individually as they rant and rave about how they’re above all the “drama” and that so and so is clearly crushing, which is why they’re being so ridiculous.
Of course, being a teacher, I’ve been trying hard to show a serious face while my insides squirm and my brain smokes from the amount of information and emotion taken in. I really never have been very good at this whole girl/boy-talk thing. The last time someone talked to me about an ex- and how they had drunk-dialed them and wailed about wanting to get back together, I gave a brilliant answer that he was definitely in the wrong. Frankly, after which, we really didn’t talk much.
And so, I sometimes accidentally let slip a minor heh and blow my own cover. But for the most part, it appears to work out. This interesting dynamic.
One of the girls, for example, approached me today, having a slight freak out and wailing about how she had completely embarrassed herself by snorting in front of him. And I couldn’t hold back my guffaw. But after swallowing it halfway with a guilty look, I told her more seriously that he wouldn’t remember. And more importantly, if he did care, and disliked her specifically because of it, he really wasn’t worth crushing on anyway. She later pounced on me with a smile brighter than the full moon and squealed about he totally didn’t remember.
I had a laughing fit lasting an entire two minutes, to the curiosity of my fellow teachers.
And then I remembered my own middle school days and promptly became solemn. How embarrassing. Thinking back to the days that I hissed at people and hid under tables from bad moods. Claiming that my sister was stealing my friends. Ohhhh dear.
At the moment, I’m not entirely worried. While these girls are crushing, I have seriously told them my entire shpeal on dating and romantic relationships, and am pretty confident of their ultimately solid heads. Ultimately, being the key word. I am fairly sure they’ll get over themselves and remember the bigger picture. Because, they are only middle schoolers.
Just like the inspiring Van Gogh exhibition today, I know that my kids have a greater goal in life. That life’s passions are greater than the mundane dailies of falling in “lust/love”. Because they would “rather die of passion than of boredom”. Right?
Also, a side note: I am a fat freaking pig. OMG. My sister makes the best chocolate apple cake. I’m going to die from over-indulging myself.
@3 months ago#little girl drama #rant and rave #ohhdear
