Tricks Are For Kids

Whenever I find myself a tad bitchier than usual or have a burning desire to turn an insignificant incident into a major catastrophe- I've learned that what I'm actually doing isn't necessarily the result of being crazy, per se. Apparently, all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the need to make much ado about nothing and dramatize miniscule dilemma's turns out to be...just a big girls' cry for attention. Sensitivity and tears tend to fall by the wayside when you're a product of the Northeast, therefore my way of handling adversity comes in heaping doses of swear words, threats of physical violence, and an unmatched bravado thanks to the streets of Jersey City. But by now, at 36- road rage and emotional outbursts have become mentally draining and truthfully, attention seeking appears to be just as juvenile as shoplifting at the Hudson Mall.

If the only way you know how to convey your message is by kicking and screaming- what's the alternative? For most of us- being recognized and acknowledged is more than enough. Once we've got our pat on the back or cushy corner office- we're good to go. However, on the flip side- there lurks an emotionally damaged and neglected soul whose cries for help, pleas for notoriety, and desperate attempts  to be seen and heard never seem to be quenched no matter how much we mind their business, do what they ask, or listen to the same old stories, again! After countless encounters with "those people" and my own botched attempts at attention seeking - I've concluded that the games we played in our youth no longer have a real place in our future. And you- what games do you play? Do tell...