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Thursday, April 13, 2006
Idea

On the way to school and work, my oldest son and I were listening to a particularly heart-quickening CD. I told Josh that it would be fun if, when I got into the office today and bypassed greetings of "Smile! It's almost Friday!" I would take that CD out of my purse, put it into my computer, and turn the volume all the way up. Then, I would go stand by the light switch so I could flick it on and off, on and off, real quick, while dancing and screaming, "Ow!"

That would be awesome.

Secrets

1. The sandals I'm wearing have cracks all over the insteps.

2. I like to be mean to handsome men.

3. Sometimes I wish I could call in sick just so I could have a few hours alone. And catch up with our laundry.

The Number of Crazy People Who Have Confided Their Craziness to Me So Far in the Part Week:

is two. (Not counting my mom, who called and very quickly threw out a few crazy sentences from her halfway house's laundry room's pay phone before her calling card ran out of time and we had to bellow "I love you" and hang up.) This week's crazy confessions were below average as far as interesting-ness goes. I usually average one crazy confession per week, though, so maybe if I get two in a week, they're supposed to be less interesting.

I keep wanting to tell y'all about how I'm a magnet for crazy people, or for normal people's crazy confessions. If I'm in a room with twenty other people plus one crazy person, that crazy person will usually zero in on me and immediately whisper a confession in my face. If a hitherto normal person I haven't seen in a while calls my phone, it's usually to confess something absolutely crazy. I think it's something about my face. It apparently says, "Hi. My mother is mentally ill, therefore I have a high tolerance for craziness. Please deposit your confessions here." I need to add, in fine print, "I reserve the right to remember your crazy confessions and reproduce them in fiction, non-fiction, and PowerPoint presentations."

Hypoglycemia

Every time I kick the sugar habit, I say, "I feel so energized and my mind is so much clearer, ever since I stopped eating sugar. You know what? I'm never gonna eat sugar again!!! Then I will write a million books and bead a million necklaces and sew a million fifties-style pastel tweed suits and my life will be awesome! AWESOME. Awe... some!!!!!"

Then, a few months after that, I'll eat a piece of white, refined, high-fructose-corn-syrup-y bread because there's literally nothing else around, and then the yeast and sugar demons will inhabit my intestines' soul and start crying for more, more, always more. And the downward spiral will do its thing, and I'll gain 25 pounds, and be sad for a year or two until I decide to quit sugar again.

Was that twelve steps? I lost count...

Whining Averted

So anyhow. I was gonna tell y'all that I had writer's block real bad, but now I seem to be over it, so I'm really happy and you've been spared the whining.

... for now, that is. Ha, ha, ha.

HA, HA, HA, HA!

Ahem. Okay. Goodbye.

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8:15 AM #

Comments:

 Gwen, crazy people like me, too. I don't know that I'm a magnet for them, but I sure can spot them. Do you have that? That quick effortless ability to recognize crazy, when other people haven't figured it out yet?


# posted by Blogger kate : 12:58 PM  

 See, that is what attracts us to Gwen's blog...we all have "that" special power! I don't know if it's because my mom was a mental health care professional for many year or my overtly friendly face, but I too can spot em and the can spot me :)


# posted by Blogger Karisa : 1:17 PM  

 They are either drawn to me too or I am one that is drawn to Gwen's page.

Today's confession:
I have a Mariah Carey's Christmas CD still in my car's trunk CD changer from when I bought the car in 1999.


# posted by Blogger daisiesandsunshine : 5:16 PM  

 Hi Gwen,

I was wondering if your mom was still alive, and it's nice to know that mentally ill or not she still stays in touch and tells you she loves you.

And yeah I seem to have that affect too. I am always the first to spot them too. I don't know if it's the crazy glint in the eye, or the lop sided grin, or maybe it the drop of drool that's catching the light just right. Or maybe it just the expression that not quite right, or maybe just it's my odd radar for that sort of thing.

But they alway catch sight of me then when I see them edging toward me, that's when I start edging toward the door or bathroom. If I can beat them to the bathroom I'll shut myself away for a while until I think they're gone.

Guess what! They wait for me to come out of the bathroom, and catch me anyway!

Now that's cray!

Janice~


# posted by Blogger Janice : 1:23 AM  

 Kate and Karisa: Y'all have one up on me, though. I can't seem to spot them. I give people the benefit of the doubt, thinking they're normal, and I listen to them talk for a while, and then - zap! - they're crazy! Oh, no! Too late!

Daisies&Sun: Do you still listen to the Mariah Carey CD, though? Is it any good?

Janice: Yes, she's still alive, but in another state and doesn't have her own phone. The halfway house people keep trying to make her more independent. She called to tell me that she completely destroyed her first checking account and now owes the bank several hundred dollars. I might try to visit her this summer, actually.


# posted by Blogger Gwen : 12:14 PM  

 I'm the exact opposite. I'm invisible to the crazed. I live in a semi-crazy neighbourhood, and my transit ride to and from work was the Express Bus through Crazyland, and still... nobody ever says boo to me. Once, I was coming home from work late and realized that, of the dozen or so people on the bus, I was the only person other than (I'm assuming) the bus driver who was not drunk, high, or insane, and still... nothing.

My housemate, on the other hand, is a total crazy magnet. He's the nicest, most mild-mannered guy you could imagine, and yet something about him seems to INCENSE them. They yell at him, try to pick fights with him, and on one occasion, someone threw up on him.

Given the choice, I choose invisibility.


# posted by Blogger Doppelganger : 6:08 PM  

 I once saw a news program that basically said that more attractive people are the better their life is because in general people are nice to them. I go out of my way to balance the scales. I mean I love women too much to be rude to them - unless they act like I dig them when I don't. But men just ahve it coming.


# posted by Blogger Rob Danger : 4:36 PM  

 Doppel: Oh my gosh. It sounds like your friend got your allotment of crazy-peep attraction. Poor guy!

Rob: You sound like my male counterpart. I actually do like men too much to be rude to them, too... But, yes, when attractive people of the opposite come at you expecting special treatment, it is satisfying to treat them as if they aren't any more special than anyone else. And watch them think, "Oh, no - am I somehow not as handsome today??"


# posted by Blogger Gwen : 11:54 AM  

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