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Mar. 8th, 2007 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bliumchikAnd a meme from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annella and active_apathy, while I'm hanging around at school waiting for my singing lesson.
Crush this person!
Get your own ThisCrush.com CrushTag!
Okay, now I feel guilty for spamming, so have a story:
The crazy, it is generally known, runs in my mother's side of the family. It's not a major crazy, it's only just bordering on "slightly unhinged," but in comparison to my fathers ridiculously logical sense it resembles a whole pitcher of crazy in a pitcher made of crazy glass. This causes some conflict in me, since I've theoretically got both crazy and anti-crazy genes all in one lovely neurotic package. But that's not the point of this story.
The point is: my grandma. She talks a lot. She talks continuously. That's not unusual - the odd bit is that her conversation has no signifiers. My dad likens her to a radio with a broken dial. You see, she'll be going on about her visit to the ophthalmologist, and you'll tune out for a couple of seconds, and when you tune back in - she's rambling about my grandad's insistence that she make special food for Jewish festivals as though she's been talking about it all day. Where was the transition? What sparked the change of topic? NOBODY KNOWS. It's one of the abiding mysteries of my family.
annella and active_apathy, while I'm hanging around at school waiting for my singing lesson.Crush this person!
Get your own ThisCrush.com CrushTag!
Okay, now I feel guilty for spamming, so have a story:
The crazy, it is generally known, runs in my mother's side of the family. It's not a major crazy, it's only just bordering on "slightly unhinged," but in comparison to my fathers ridiculously logical sense it resembles a whole pitcher of crazy in a pitcher made of crazy glass. This causes some conflict in me, since I've theoretically got both crazy and anti-crazy genes all in one lovely neurotic package. But that's not the point of this story.
The point is: my grandma. She talks a lot. She talks continuously. That's not unusual - the odd bit is that her conversation has no signifiers. My dad likens her to a radio with a broken dial. You see, she'll be going on about her visit to the ophthalmologist, and you'll tune out for a couple of seconds, and when you tune back in - she's rambling about my grandad's insistence that she make special food for Jewish festivals as though she's been talking about it all day. Where was the transition? What sparked the change of topic? NOBODY KNOWS. It's one of the abiding mysteries of my family.
