I might have mixed feelings about cell phones, byut I DO love the cell phone camera. My goodness!

I'm also much relieved to now know so many people who practice imaginary conversations aloud.

Who knew my father and I were not the only insane sane people in the world?

And they were giving us s**t about candy corn hats?

No, this wasn't my cell phone camera. This was me opening my purse, finding my camera, turning it on, focusing and snapping all before the guy was blocked my the approaching Mark Twain. I was on SPEED, man!

Yeah. I am wondering how this guy was getting away with this "get-up" (as my Dad would've said).

LOL. My poor Dad. Always saying tome "You're not going out in that get-up are you?". The answer was always "yes, what's wrong with it?".

I have to amend my earlier post to add that I talk to all sorts of animate and inanimate objects. The cats, the toaster, the computer, the microwave, the sink that won't drain, the computer, the VCR, the cordless handset I can't find, the computer, the cans in the cupboard, my closet, the computer....

I do that, too. But I'm also the crazy who talks to her food. "Ooh, apple, you look so good to me. I can't wait to eat you!"

Bad.

My mother, a few years ago, caught me on the couch having an imaginary conversation with a boy I was interested in. I even had my arm on the couch, as if reaching behind him. And I was turned toward an invisible someone. And I was talking aloud.

In my defense, I really thought I was just imagining a conversation in my head. I had no idea I was acting it out.

Actually, that's not much of a defense, is it? Sounds like, since I didn't know I was doing it, I'm even *more* crazy.

I saw my mother. Registered surprise and embarrassment. And she just smiled, shook her head, said, "Just like your father," and then asked me who I was talking to.

"Jonathan Livingston. A boy at school. We've been writing. I'm nervous about our first conversation after we're both at school again, so I was, uh, practicing."

"Practicing?"

"Yes."

"You know that's crazy, right? That you didn't even realize you were doing it?"

"Yes."

"Okay." And then she kindly walked away.

I've got a friend, I'm ALWAYS catching her being crazy. Whether it's nonsense conversations with her dog, some bizarre noise combined with equally bizarre facial expression in reaction to something, or random conversation with herself, I catch her every time even if it's just for a millisecond. It's hillarious.

Although the best story with this friend happened at a bar. Totally not her fault, entirely my doing, and we both looked insane. We were seated at a table, and I dropped something, probably a napkin. As I reached down to pick it up, she noticed me pause for a second and come back up with a puzzled look on my face. She asked what was up and I responded that it smelled like armpit under the table. I then began the process of convincing her to join me for a sniff to confirm. She reluctantly agreed, so we both ducked our heads back down and began sniffing, comfirming with nods beneath the table top that it did indeed smell of BO. So we both return to our full upright seated positions...only to find the waiter had arrived some moments before with our drinks, and witnessed us sniffing under the table. And then, because I guess she thought this would somehow make us seem LESS crazy, she says to him, "It smells like armpit under there." Great.

Apparently you are far from alone iSm.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/...in689651.shtml

I've taken to sighing audibly lately. I hope it's a habit I break. SOON. My grandma does it! It's almost a compulsion now....I feel the need to sigh....audibly...right now!!! Crap!!!

Eliza, the town with the Doll Lady is McMinnville, OR. The same town boasts Superman/Spiderman and the Box Guy. Craziness!!! The funny thing is that before I met my husband (he's from there) I lived with someone from that town so I already knew of the town crazies. I used to be the sort of person who approached them and would buy them coffee.....and ask them questions. I talked to Doll Lady in Wal*Mart once, but she doesn't make sense, no complete sentences out of her. Superman wouldn't even look at me. And I've never seen Box Guy, but I've looked in his front window....all boxes, in a gorgeously delicate Victorian style house.

Martha, the witch, I talked to her once and bought her coffee at Mini-Mart when I was 19sh and it turned out she was related to a girl I went to school with...her aunt....but the girl never spoke up and told anyone. I felt really bad. For both of them.

I forgot about Bottle Can Clyde! He lived in the town where I went to high school....homelessish for years (he most likely had a house, never saw him sleep on the streets), then suddenly quit drinking and got a job at a grocery store (proximity to cans and bottles, I wonder?). He mumbled, cussed at cars, and wandered, picking up cans in ditches for at least years that I know of, before he suddenly went respectable. Weirdest thing!! And the funny thing.....his name isn't actually Clyde, but I can't remember what it is.

Gosh, I feel like wandering downtown to talk to the guy who pees in broad daylight (seen him do it now twice at my busstop) and the flashing lady with the saggy ass tits OR the guy who wears the white collar and claims to be from the Church of Venus......or the guy in the wheelchair who refuses to push it with his hands, so he scoots it with his feet, unless he can't make it up a curb, so he gets out and pushes it up the curb......I love that guy!

My husband does this ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME. Usually he confines himself to making horrifying facial expressions. We'll be walking along in silence and I'll glance over and his face is all contorting this way and that and I'm, like, what the hell? And he says sorry, he was thinking of something.

Sometimes, though, he forgets that it's imaginary and actually starts talking. I'll hear him mumbling and say what? What are you saying? And he'll look at me blankly and say he never said anything. Because as far as he knows, he never said anything.

At least your outloud conversations seem harmless. His tend to involve the word motherfvcker a lot.