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I guess sign me up for crazy-ville: I talk to myself, I talk to inanimate objects, I talk to animals, I talk to whatever. I say hello to the sun and sky. I bid my car a good-night when she gets me home safely.
Not so much that there is a point to the conversations; just I talk to things. When I was a kid I used to practice saying all those things that you can't say; I'd hold imaginary conversations with my mother and say all the things I wanted. But then we'd have it for real, and of course I can't even say the things I need to say. I'm a dork.
Yes, I sing in the car. No, I don't care what people think.
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