There is no word for “sorry” in French. In French, you say, “Je suis desole” (can’t figure out how to type the French accents) or Excusez-moi or “Pardonne-moi.” Therefore, you either ask to be excused or to be pardoned or maybe, just maybe, (if you are French) you just might be desolate, but you aren’t sorry. Being excused for something sounds pretty good to me. Here is a scenario. A policeman asks you if you are sorry for hitting your husband over the head with the iron frying pan that was sitting on your stove in preparation for cooking your husband’s dinner, just after you picked up your husband’s cell phone and found very compromising photos of your beloved with another woman? If you are French you would say, “Pardonne-moi” or “Veuillez m’excuser” Pardon me, or, please excuse me, in English. Yep, that is what I might tell the policeman too. Now, what if the policeman asks you how you feel after you find out that your husband was taken to the hospital due to the fact that you hit him with your favorite iron frying pan and that your husband had been diagnosed with a slight concussion? Well of course, any caring wife would answer, “Je suis desole” or, in English, “I’m desolate.” Does that sound a bit sarcastic to you? Of course it sounds sarcastic, because, it is sarcastic. That is the point. Desolate really? Is anyone ever desolate? It is a sarcastic retort. Now, would you call someone who would hit her husband over the head with her favorite iron frying pan without even letting her husband explain the naked pictures of him with another woman on his phone as being too dramatic? NO! Neither would I.
Have I done this in real life? No, I have not. Have I thought about it? Sure. Now, tell me this. Does this make me too dramatic? Maybe. I have never been accused of being too boring. Interesting, yes, pushy??? At times, yes, I guess. Colorless, no. Dull, no. Humdrum, no. Drab, no. Stale, no. Spiritless, no. Vapid, no. Irksome, yes. Wearisome, yes. Uncommunicative, no. Tiresome, yes, sometimes. A pain in the a_ _ , yes, and even to my face and surely lots of times behind my back. The one name I have been called more than once and often by men, (yes, even in the last few days) is, “Dramatic” I have heard “You are too dramatic for me”, and I have heard, “At this point, I am not looking for anything dramatic in my life.”
Now, men, let me tell you what I am looking for in a relationship. Drama, sure, I certainly have had my share of boring, and dull and drab in the last few years. Drama sounds pretty good to me. What else do I WANT? I want someone to ask me, what I want! I want someone to ask me what I am looking for, in my future. It isn’t a humdrum existence. Excitement, Golly Gee, YES! FUN, YES. Earth shattering momentum in a new relationship? WHY EVERNOT? Historic relationship? Monumental, significant, days and nights. Absolutely! Do I want to be around impressive, outstanding, remarkable, exceptional people doing and saying and living their lives in their own outstanding, remarkable, way? YES! YES! & YES!
Telling me not to be dramatic is useless. Every one of my old and new friends and family members are quite aware of this personality trait of mine. I have had this particular trait since birth. I am afraid that this will probably die with me. As a child, I wanted to be a Broadway star, or a movie star, until I was in college and acting on stage. That is when I realized that I only enjoyed bowing at the end of the performance. What I really liked about the theater and movies was, and is, the writing and the directing and producing behind the performance. What I liked was the art of the entertainment. What I liked was the story, or the DRAMA. The drama of life makes you know that you are alive.
I know that lots of men and women over sixty just want to be calm and they want their rest and uncomplicated relationships. Lots of seniors are looking for nice, happy, slightly enjoyable friends and an uncomplicated retirement with occasional visits to see the grandchildren. I totally understand this after so many years of hard work. It makes a lot of sense. This actually makes good sense. It’s just not me. Can’t help it. I’m different. I have been living my life for a “was-band” and for two children, all of whom, have never relished any form of drama.
Now it is my turn. Drama is in my soul. Everyone knows it and I have had to keep it in check for way too long … well, I am not going to do that anymore. I made it to over 65 and my sprit isn’t going to be lassoed. There is another thing, like drama, and it is called, passion. Yes, I am passionate. I am a passionate person. I am passionately interested in many things and I am passionately fond of my family and friends. If in a serious relationship, I am passionately involved. I can be seriously hurt and seriously affected by things you do or don’t do or things that you say to me. Can’t help it.. I actually have had a man or two or three, in my life, who somehow managed to fall in love with that part of me. Thank you, fellows for liking me for who I am.
This, “Drama Queen” is comfortable with her title. I accept the title and will wear the crown with distinction. Are there any men out there from 57 to 77 who are interested in passion and maybe a little drama? We will see. Can’t say I’m sorry about my dramatic condition, however, I will say, “Excusez-moi”
Until Next Week…