in 7th grade, i won the "MOST DRAMATIC" award. i still have the laminated sheet of paper with that all caps font:
it's been 12 years since then and not much has changed. i'm still dramatic; i just don't have braces and i actually have an idea of how to control my hair (sort of, although i got layers for the first time last month and it's not panning out how i thought it would).
it's not that i love jersey shore type drama or that i seek out bitches to fight in clubs, no. it's just that i react strongly to everyday situations. where most people might shrug things off or be able to instantly say "oh well. it'll work itself out," i say NO - it won't. and i see to it that the solution is found with as much intensity as possible.
a prime example of my overreactive nature came to mind the other night and made me laugh out loud. i acted in plays for a long time in my youth. it started with theatre summer camps and graduated into actual school plays where i had a stint of landing most of the lead roles. however, one year in particular proved to be extra tricky in securing the leading lady part for myself. i was up against two girls: one whose name i can't even remember, which means she probably sucked and another who was an incredibly skinny, mousy and odd girl who i considered my main competition.
i wanted this particular part so badly. i think i knew deep down that the character wasn't exactly someone i should play, but i didn't care; she had the most lines, therefore, i needed to be her. it was the night of our final audition, and the three of us girls stood center stage in front of our two theatre directors, awaiting instructions on how to win the role.
"okay, girls. for your last part of the audition, we're going to have you react as you believe this character would to a person holding a gun up to their face." (the play was a murder mystery). "we'll go around to each of you and when we point, REACT. go with your instinct. ready?"
this character was quiet. shy. mousy, like my main competition. i knew i had to outshine her with my reaction, so i decided to completely forget everything about the actual character and act as ME - EMMA! the theatre director pointed to me and i was ready.
"AHH!!!" i screamed bloody murder and threw myself, my entire body, down to the floor as hard as i could. "NO!!!" i screamed once on the floor for extra, and completely unnecessary, effect.
when the mousy girl was pointed at, she simply put both hands up to her mouth, gasped, and took a quiet step backwards in shock.
guess who got the part?
i ended up playing the crazy, loud, out-of-this-world italian woman whose opening monologue consisted of me crashing through the door, stammering to center stage, and retelling the story of how i got to where i was that night. it was one of my favorite roles, and i still watch the home videos of the play from time to time.
the point is, i overreact. i have big emotions, and i'm not sorry for them. sometimes i beat myself about it, but for the most part, i'm okay with it. it's just who i am; i like to make things interesting by showering them in intensity.
normal reaction to a delicious drink: "oh wow that's good."
my reaction to delicious drink: "WHAT? WHAT IS THIS? I CAN'T. THIS IS AMAZING. I'M FREAKING OUT. ALL OF YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS RIGHT NOW. STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND TAKE A SIP."
normal reaction to the vacuum cord getting tangled: "ughhh"
my reaction to the vacuum cord getting tangled: "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? REALLY?!!? REALLY?? WOW. SO TYPICAL. AND NOW I'M SWEATING. GREAT."
normal reaction to getting into a hot shower on a cold morning: "mmm this feels great"
my reaction to getting into a hot shower on a cold morning: "WHEN EMMA WENT TO EGYPT'S LANDDDDDDDDD. LET MY PEOPLE GOOOOOOO. OH LARD. LARD LARD! THIS FEELS FANTASTIC. AHHH!!!!!!"
to know me is to accept my intensity. it's nothing to freak out about; just embrace it.
peace, love and drama queens,