Guess Who's Back...

I realize I haven't posted in ages....and someone called me out on it last week. So, I decided I'd try my best to start again and keep up with it...Third time's the charm, right?

Kids, I want to mention something here. My friend Leah Dubie has a joke about the use of the word "crazy". Meaning, how we are keen to overuse it. Anything a little off-kilter- crazy! That friend of a friend who drinks a little too much and dances on the table- crazy! (Ok, not so much 'crazy' as...'me'). It's a word we use to generalize. It's become an umbrella, much like 'depression' or 'insured'. I've got to say, I had two run-ins with crazy in the past two days that I'd like to share.

I was in Woodstock this weekend. Or, as I like to call it, 'the town for people who don't want to grow up'. Now, while it was gorgeous and peaceful and quaint and I liked it very much, it seemed to me like everyone who lives there is just a little bit crazy. I think it's a town rule- you either have to have cat-eye glasses or a beard. Better if you have both. No one seemed to care about money or jobs or hygiene. Free as a bird. But the thing that solidified my thought of 'crazy' here is that I couldn't help but notice that this was the first thing i saw when I arrived-


and the best part is- I didn't take that picture. Someone else did. Someone else thought- this guy's a nut!
I saw him there around 11am...and when I returned from my hike around 530pm, he was in the exact same spot; as if, he hadn't moved a muscle. Look at his collection of belongings- a sewing machine and a broke-down black and white kitchen tv.
That makes it official- this guy is CRAZY!

My second run=in was on the Q train last night, coming to Brooklyn.


A man who looked very similar to this one was standing in front of me. Same large glasses. Same oily skin. Same supposed return from work. Now, is it just me, or does this look scream- I live in a basement apartment. I can't be trusted around pets. I have a lot of keys. My eyes roll back and I grunt when I have an orgasm.

Crazy. Plain and simple.

SO, the next time you're thinking about having a girl's night at Chili's and downing too manay margaritas and getting 'crazy'....just remember what you're getting yourself into...