“Be
silent and listen: have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have
you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you
not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You
wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of your
madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised
and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life."
In an effort to get to know
my reader better, I have decided to have an Ask Me Anything. Of course, blogs
aren’t live chats - except at the Home for the Nearly Dead down the street. So
as the next best thing, I’ve decided to share some little known facts about
Yours Truly. My friends call me Weeping. Here are some more fun facts about me.
·
I
was not raised by feral wolves.
·
Mom
was a lady wolf who ran away from an abusive father who was the fat clown in
the circus.
·
TMZ libelously says Daddy was a somewhat feral disgraced playboy celebrity whose
downfall was an unsubstantiated accusation that he killed a hooker and who,
while he never supported his children by selling meth, did drink himself to
death under a designated historical monument/highway bypass built by the WPA.
·
I
never had a brother who disappeared like Richie’s older brother on Happy Days.
·
My
Permanent Record says I have “a bad attitude” and that I “do no apply myself”.
·
While
I was not an early fan of applied cultural anthropology, I have come to embrace
it.
·
I
once lanced a boil on a close friend.
·
I
suffer from the first documented case of Pre-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder that
brings on panic attacks when contemplating the future while high or when trying
to get through a supermarket lane between the stupid old people who must track
me with an implanted GPS because they’re always there when I shop. What, do
they hold a meeting every morning and decide how to piss me off today?
·
I
never had electroshock therapy unless you count the unfortunate incident involving
a sonic toothbrush and the third glass of vodka. That may not be as bad as it
sounds. I may have mispronounced it.
·
The
upbeat thing about being schizophrenic is that one of me is usually in a good
mood.
·
I
would NEVER wear a monocle or a top hat in public. I did however wear a monkey
butler cap that summer Mom had a rocky affair with the circus monkey.
·
I
feckin’ wields my rapier wit to defend my friends and defeat my foes and to
sometimes ring a doorbell and then run away. It’s getting dull.
·
I
know enough about what’s wrong with kids these days that I could edit an
encyclopedia.
·
I
have a rare form of hearing impairment. Not conductive or sensory-neural. It's Pink
Floyd.
This is the really the
important thing to know about Weeping. I am in the Witness Protection Program
and thus blog in the pissed-off secret identity of a mild mannered superhero,
so some of the details above may have been changed to protect the innocent
until proven guilty.
Funny story about why I'm in Witness Protection.
I spent my professional
career as an accountant (mid-management bureaucrat) who went to the coolest
lunch trucks in the hip part of uptown and wore expensive scarves with my white
shirt from Ross. I left my first husband for Shawn (sic) who still had a full
head of hair. This understandably led to drinking. I am not a wino. I’m more of a blended
whiskey.
Anyway. One day I “suddenly
picked up a paper knife and carved my way out through Cost Accounting and into
forensic history” (Terry Pratchett). I
blew the whistle on my Big 5 Accounting Firm and got into the Witness
Protection Program. So you could say I did the crime but I did not do the time.
Weeping Sore is A Winner.
