My mama always say, stupid is as stupid does....

When you were young, I'm sure you've done your fair share of stupid shit. I mean, it's only natural for us to experiment with stupidity before we embark on a life of pseudo-intellectualism. This is not the case with the Constantly Dramatic One because sadly, I am still stuck at that stupid level.

 

Anyways, today I want to take a trip down stupidity lane. I think this should be a like a new section in Dramatic Musings. It should be a section in which I highlight my adventures into stupidity. Which is really often. Half the damn time I found myself caught in something so ridiculously absurd and stupid, that there are no words to even explain it. One of my aunts, who sadly have passed away due to leukaemia, once told me that stupid things only happen to stupid people because smart people are too smart to get caught in stupid things. I wonder if she tells this to all her nieces and nephews or just to me cause she knows what was coming. Guess I will never get the chance to ask her that.

 

 

Let me tell you of the really stupid shit I have done. Back in school I had this really close friend, let’s call her Nessa*. Anyways Nessa and I was really close, the type that still call to talk on the phone after school, private nicknames for each other…that type you know. So one day Nessa gave me a gift, just out of the blue. Turns out it was a book, I can’t remember what the title was, but it had two teenage girls dancing on the beach on the cover. The Constantly Dramatic One, being the Constantly Dramatic One, decided that somehow those two girls represented Nessa and I. The book was about these two bestfriends who were really tight and then one of them got cancer and this is the story of how the friends stayed together through everything. Eventually the other girl dies and the one that survives realise that she could never have another friend as good as her.

 

I remember finishing the book at round 2.30ish in the morning and crying my eyes out. I was like “OMG, Nessa has cancer! This is why she gave this book! She couldn’t tell me the truth cause she’s scared so she gave me this instead!!" Now, please bear in mind that this was the era before every Tom, Dick and Harry had a mobile phone so I couldn’t actually call her house phone at 2am now can’t I? Her mom would kick my ass. So the next day in school, the moment I saw Nessa, I gave her like a really tight hug and I said:

 

“It’s okay Nessa, it’s okay. I love you and I understand and I will be there with you every step of the way. If you need to go to chemo, I will go with you. Every step of the way.”

 

“CD, what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“The book Nessa! The book! You have cancer.”

 

“What?!!”

 

“Well….you gave me the book remember? About the bestfriends and then one of them have cancer and….I know this is your way of telling me.”

 

“Woman! I don’t have cancer!”

“Well I don’t have cancer either. Why did you give me the book then if not to tell me something?”

 

“I just thought that the cover is pretty and I wanna buy you something pretty. I don’t have cancer.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Fucking stupid okay. Fucking, fucking stupid. Sometimes a book is just a book. Okay and then you guys remember when I was in Grease right? So there was this one dance rehearsal that we had to go to and for practicality’s sake I always make sure that I wear proper attire when I go to these rehearsals. The thing was….I forgot that it was in fact a dance rehearsal; I thought we were doing lines that day. So….I wasn’t dressed properly. When I say wasn’t dressed properly, I mean I was wearing this flimsy demi-cup bra instead of sports bra.

 

 

Dude, bad fucking mistake. Seriously.

 

 

The choreographer made us jumped up and reached as high up as we could. So that’s what I did, I jumped and reached as high as I could…and then my boob popped out. I really wish that I’m making this up…but no. I am not. Oh God. Okay to be fair I was wearing a shirt, that even when the boob popped out, said boob was still inside the shirt and not out for the whole world to see. Thank God for small miracles like that. But holy crap, I panicked okay. Wouldn’t you if your boob popped out? Dude, the rest of the rehearsal was like this haze of paranoid “Holy fuck! Is my boob popping out again?” and I kept on petting my girls to check if they’re in place. Until at one point one of the girls from the cast came up to me said “CD, can you please stop touching your breasts? The boys are watching.”

 

 

See, told you I do stupid shit.

 

 

I am one of those people who are not into gadgets and cars. I just don’t care. When anyone discuses one of these things, I listen but I don’t really care. It’s like white noise. Doesn’t concern me one bit, so yeah…whatevs. Over the years I came to learn that there is this super awesome vehicle called “Bimmer” and that it’s supposed to be really awesome with supreme horse power, very expensive, bla bla bla and that if you drive it then you are like totally cool. So in my mind, I equated it like this: Expensive + fast + supposedly “cool” = Bimmer. It never occurred to me to Google up Bimmer to see how it looks like or in fact, if it was the car’s actual name. I just don’t care.

 

Then last year, I invited my college friends for Aidilfitri. One of my friends took one look at our driveway and he said

 

“Wow CD! You have a Bimmer?”

 

“No dude, we don’t have a Bimmer.”

 

“But I saw one in the driveway. The silver one.”

 

“Oh…that’s not a Bimmer. That’s a BMW.”

 

Total, complete silence.

 

And then those creatures I call friends started laughing like the bitches that they are and I don’t understand why. I was like “Oh, did I say something funny?” Apparently, I did. Apparently, BMWs are Bimmers. It’s the same shit. How the fuck am I supposed to know that? No one ever told me that it’s the same shit. We don’t refer to my mom’s car as “Bimmer” or “BMW”- we always call it “Mom’s car”. Example:

 

 “No CD, you cannot drive Mom’s car.” OR

 “Mom’s car is much more expensive than your car so you cannot drive it CD” OR

 “There’s a reason why you can’t drive Mom’s car, cause its 'Mom’s car' and not 'your car'.”

 

See? My whole family never let me live this one down; they think it is the funniest shit ever. My sister phone home and goes “Hey CD! Have you seen a Bimmer today? It’s in our driveway! Haha!” Like…oooh, so fucking funny. Its like 2 bucks a minute to call from Finland to Malaysia and woman waste it on that. And she’s a lawyer. You would think a lawyer would not be as juvenile, right?

 

 

So why am I telling you all this? Simple. This is my New Year’s resolution:

 

 

the Constantly Dramatic One’s 2009 New Year Resolution

 

1)    Stop committing random acts of stupidity. Stop it. Just fucking stop it.

 

That’s it. Just one. If I can go though 2009 without any stupid shit, then 2009 would be a great success. Wait, you know what…I got more.

1. Stop committing random acts of stupidity.
   
2. Do not get my ass thrown in jail. (This is possible. I wholeheartedly believe that I am capable of committing big scale white collar crime. Seriously.) (I also believe that if I do get my ass thrown in jail...I'll be someone's bitch in 30 seconds, flat.)
   
3. Do not buy high powered, long range binoculars just to stake out a firehouse….with hot firemen in it. (Note to self: No matter what the voices in your head are saying, just don’t CD. Just don’t.)
4. Stop kicking doors open while shouting “This is Sparta!”…. and spraining toes in the process.
5. Have hot, kinky sex with Clive Owen.

 

 

Right, okay. Those are my resolutions for 2009. What’s yours?

 

*******

 

P/S: Comment moderation is off cause my internet is being a bitch. Friends, you know the drill: no names, no universities, no countries, no towns- no details. Haters, have a field day.