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Soaprah
07.10.15

Used to describe yourself at your most dramatic, introspective and web-tangled moments, Soaprah is portmanteau of Oprah and Soap Opera.

Your inner Soaprah is likely to come out during PMS, menstruation, time periods of high stress, while drinking, or a combination of all of the above.

 

It doesn’t matter what sets you off: losing a button on your cardigan could do it. What follows, however is a sob fest that includes, but is not limited to: chair throwing, mascara running, door slamming and cursing in Spanish. No one around you is safe — and suddenly everyone is a suspect of your demise. Paranoia grows. You assume your button fell off because your boyfriend cheated on you and afterwards, loaned it to the harlot who knowingly stole your man.

 

How’d she get the cardigan back to him? Because she’s also your best friend’s cousin’s mom’s long lost sister who not only grew up with your boyfriend but was separated from you at birth. That’s right. YOUR EVIL TWIN.

 

So that’s the Soap Opera part. To say your imagination takes over is a bit of an understatement, but then:

 

A therapy session follows. With literally anyone who will listen. You tell the bartender, you call your mom’s voicemail, you tell the girl in the bathroom and you tell the mirror.

 

And something miraculous happens. The person with whom you’re regaling your one-woman version of Days of Our Lives not only listens, but commiserates.  Suddenly you’re in the therapists chair nodding and taking notes and furrowing your brow. It’s no longer about you. It’s about helping your new friend.

 

You’ve become Oprah.

 

Soon, the suds of sadness are washed away and replaced by the pink, feel-good bubbles of Soaprah. A good bubble bath really does fix everything! Or it’s the Oprah effect.

Thoughts?