Tuesday, October 23, 2007

To The Left Of Normal....

I am basically a sane person. I manage to get to work daily, feed my kids, get them to the dentist twice a year, make sure the cats have water and throw bleach in the toilet every week. Yes, my laundry piles up and sometimes (alot of times) there are dishes in the sink. Regardless, Sean and Erin are fairly well adjusted, can speak in full sentences and say "excuse me" if they burp. Their knuckles do not drag on the ground when they walk, nor do they drool (while awake).

However, I am a bit "touched". I've always been "touched". I've been "touched" as far back as I can remember.

I said one time to my friend Colleen in a alcohol fueled exclusive that I frequently "talk" to myself -- I also "talk" to fictional characters, I "talk" to celebritites, I wonder what conversation I would have with Abe Lincoln or Mary Lincoln, for that matter. I know at some point I will be in the nursing home psych unit, thinking I am George Harrison's wife and waiting for my man to come home from tour.

I comfort myself by saying this is the writer in me. I make up conversations with Mr. Spock and Fox Mulder and Keith Richards and John Barrymore. In my imagination, I've been to the Academy Awards, the Emmy's, the Tony's. I've been to celebrity parties, Van Cliburn's triumphant 1958 piano concert in Moscow and walked the red carpet (about 50 pounds thinner in a lovely black dress). I've solved warp drive problems with Mr. Spock and finally found Fox Mulder's long lost sister. And I don't know HOW many times John Lennon and I sat around talking about the 60's.

But low and behold, Colleen admitted during our stationary trip to Tanked-Town that she did the same thing. She also comforted herself by saying this was the creative in her and knew that one day, sitting zoned out at the Home, she mentally would be waiting for her man, Barry Manilow, to come off the stage so she could....well, never mind. I can say no more except if Manilow knew, he'd be dating her tomorrow.

This prompted me to postulate that specifically engineered insanity is a good thing. It keeps the creative juices flowing, you can visit any place in the world or talk to anyone you wish. I'm glad I'm "touched". But I'm also glad to find that I'm not alone. Even if it's just me and Colleen, (and probably Anne...hmmm? Waiting for Sir Paul??) we'll be the happiest 3 old ladies in the psych ward they've ever seen.


Nicole said...

Eh, normal is overrated. I would rather have writer-induced creativity like that than normal. :)

Anonymous said...

Can't right now. I'm mentally in London with my dream husband, Robert Redford, for the opening of his new political thriller, Lions for Lambs. I warned Tom (Cruise, that is) to not overshadow my hubby's serious think piece with any sofa jumping or Kate kissing. We'll see how the lad does. Anne.

No Nonsense Girl said...

I'm like you, I talk to myself all the time and I'm a sane person!!!!