The last few days as I have manically been painting I have thought to myself many times over, "I really am crazy". I'm pretty sure my family agrees. But in truth I'm okay with being crazy. I know I have OCD about certain things, mostly cleaning and my home looking a certain way. But I do not judge others by my standards. I can walk in a home and if there is a mess out or a few toys laying around it doesn't even faze me. But if those same things were out in MY house it would drive me batty. It doesn't make sense but it also doesn't bug me enough that I'm going to change.
It was ironic that in the midst of this introspection I was given ample evidence of what crazy really is through the wonder of Facebook. I have a FB "friend"- I call her that lightly because I have almost no contact whatsoever with her but we all know that FB make you "friends" with the world now- that is quite literally nuts. I've had to block her updates because she is so offensive and so unreasonable. She spews hatred with every breath, and yet has never, ever been wrong a moment in her life. I would "defriend" her but I haven't figured out a way to do so covertly (FB need to work on that). My daughter and I have named her "The Face of Crazy" thus omitting the need to say her name- and we all know how much I love nicknames. But an unexpected benefit has come from this naming: the moniker has become a symbol of sorts for us. When we are out and see something shocking or bizarre happen we say "wow, that could have been the Face of Crazy", or "hey, the Face of Crazy is out again". It's a little wordy to ever become a popular catchphrase, but it works for us. And just so you know, I may not be the originator but the Face of Crazy is often times me :)
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