Yesterday my flight back to Dublin was delayed by 2 and a half hours. There was no real reason except the electronic board thing everyone looks at to see which gate to go to just flashed red (obviously for DANGER!) and so before I knew it I was surrounded by small screaming children and old people who would vicariously leave their walking sticks/wheelchairs around the joint turning the seating area into a fucking obstacle course! “Oh it’s ok you stupid bint! I will leapfrog over your mother sucking walking aid as I clutch my own heavy bag and my bottle of Grey Goose vodka from Duty Free… yeah sure… this doesn’t look like a scene from fucking Casualty!” And why do they call the waiting area the ‘lounge’?? It ain’t no lounge! The large TV placed in a really crap obscure position shows some bullshit news on repeat with the sound off and no subtitles even if you were remotely interested in what was going on. Plus there ain’t no telly remote control so I can watch Home and Away, Hollyoaks or some equally amazing soap opera with impeccable acting. But I digress… My point was that due to no fault of my own, my flight was delayed and I was spacking out all over the place!
The factors involving my rage were not in the great scheme of things a big deal. A 2 hour delay is better than 10 and me getting annoyed at disabled people in wheelchairs is not really helping the situation. However, I felt the need to get so wound up and share my displeasure with anyone who was listening! This involved tutting loudly, shaking my head so obviously every time Ryanair made an unhelpful announcement over the loud speaker, and then calling my mother talking so outrageously out loud with phrases like ‘This is ridiculous!’ and ‘why does this always happen to me… I hate my life!’ I did also text my friend who was picking me up when I landed to explain the delay and how irate I was…. And her response was ‘It’s fine Shem. Stop being so dramatic!’
I swear to God it’s some mutant DNA us girls have where we feel the need to create ALL the drama from such a tiny non-event. One example involved myself and my buddy chopping onions for dinner one night. Yes onions can make your eyes have a fit at times and you may shed a tear, but the way in which my friend and I were carrying on, it was like we had just been exposed to nuclear rays and we were melting! There were exaggerated hand gestures and recoiling away from the onions with cries of ‘oh my eyes… my eyes!’ and it was only as we both clocked our behaviour… we stopped and thought… It’s just an onion. Pretty sure nobody has ever died from a fucking onion before. So rein your shit in and get back in your box!
I don’t understand why girls/women/females have to throw their hands in the air and wave ‘em like they just don’t care! There is no fire… nothing has actually happened… so stop with the attitude! There is also the valid reason of girls thriving from drama. Some more than others and we call them bitches or ‘Mean Girls’ (watch the movie… it’s amazing!). But I reckon some ladies just get bored and feel the need to just randomly pick a subject or theme and then casually sit back thinking ‘how can I make this ALL about me?!’ You know that feeling where you just fancy an argument so you go out of your way to pick and pick until it blows up in your face and you’re left crying?! Well something like that. The last argument I had was with another mate… a boy (see this already spells disaster just because a man is involved!) and we were shouting each other down at a bus stop in Trafalgar Square! Was there any need for members of the public to be hearing our drunken slurs at 3 in the morning… no. And when my mate said ‘I don’t think we should discuss this now’ do you think I backed down and went quietly… no. I simply amped up the volume of my voice making sure the whole of London (yes… the entire city) could hear me scream ‘…AND ANOTHER THING!!’
SO yes… in conclusion us girls are mentalists but I quite like it that way. I’m owning my title of being a complete drama queen and overreacting at the smallest detail… and although in the new year I may strive for a better cleaner way of living… I know that sometimes I will always be a bit of a dickhead. Good.