All Things Profane and Sacred

Crazy people and crazy situations seem to follow me wherever I go. Shit if I know why-I'm pretty fucken normal myself. Thank God I have J-he is my rock of stability. He would laugh if he knew that-it's not so much that we're without our own crazyness, it's just that we're both crazy in the same way, crazy from living in the middle of crazyness. And maybe that's sanity. Or just some fucked up version of normality that will have to suffice.

Anyhow. Did the interview this morning after a phone call from my mother about my father. I haven't seen the old man since the last family funeral, and I haven't spoken with him more than 3 times in the last 10 years. Mom called to let me know my father thinks he's crazy. This was not a huge revelation to me, but apparently it is to him.

Also got bitch-slap in the mail from an old friend. I'm not sure what that was all about, but I would guess it is part of some involved psychodrama that I'm glad not to have to deal with. It was more the patronizing tone that upset me than the implied fuck off. J thinks I should write a WTF letter, but I don't much feel like playing games with people I don't really know anymore.