You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.
teenage girls.
There are three of them in this house right now. It’s like a cackling coop hair and estrogen. It’s an onslaught of high pitched run on sentences and generation X angst.
I’m on the couch, my back to them in the kitchen. I am only 10 feet away, and it’s like I am invisible. They are talking a blue streak, their sentences rolling over one another like a rip tide at a beach.
It’s fun to listen to them talk. It does not seem so long ago that I was a teenage girl full of angst. OK, maybe I was not a teenage girl, but I certainly had my share of superfluous teenage anger.
Their topics range from school and boys and dates and boys and teachers and slang and study hall.
It’s Crazy.
Listening to these young women pontificate is like a trip down memory lane. It is it makes me realize how hard it is to be a teenager.
There’s a lot of crazy to contend with. Perhaps more today than a generation ago. It’s like the black plague of peer pressure now-a-days with the instantaneous embarrassment and realization of social media. And then there’s the constant pressure cooker of parents and rules and dating and body image and clothing choices and hair styles. There’s the in crowd and the out crowd and groups known as hipsters. We didn’t have hipsters. From my vantage point on the couch I cannot determine if this is a good group or not.
All in all, it seems like a social gauntlet of barriers and choices, each leading to a door lined with razor blades and booby traps.
As I sit here playing the part of quiet dad, I realize what I’m hearing is a treatment for the next MTV reality show.
Forget the Jersey Shore.
16 year old high school girls gabbing about virtually nothing is a sure hit. It’s Seinfield for teens. Instead of the soup Nazi, the wrong pair of jeans or a bad hair day will be a reason to lock yourself in the bathroom. A blemish or lumpy sports bra, must see TV, like a nuclear show down with the illegitimate son of kim jung il.
All I’m saying is teenage girls are crazy. They are young women which means they are young crazy women. They can’t help it, as I’ve stated many times before, it’s primordial. It’s part of the DNA of the universe.
Teenage boys are jacked up too, it just doesn’t seem like it’s Armageddon on roller skates flying off the cliff.
A pink barrette? A blue hair ribbon? I hate you.
Door Slam!
Teenage boys are dumb, just not teenage girl dramatic.
Ah the angst of high school. Study hall and crowded hallways and chemistry lessons you will never use again.
How I miss it.
NOT!
Crazy.