“Hello, friend, it’s me, CRAZY! Yeah, CRAZY! So good to hear your voice.”

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

Originally Posted by Prudence

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.