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A few months ago … September 19th to be exact … I was doing some musing on what constitutes crazy. And wondered “Are I One?”

I’d like to say the jury is still out, but let’s be honest … its settled.

Yes I am and … well … that’s about it … Yes I am.

But it’s a nice kind of crazy.

The kind of crazy that likes to have fun even if nobody else does.
The kind of crazy that gets you through the tough times even when common sense would tell you to just give up.
The kind of crazy that remains your friend because you just are … whether anyone else likes it or not.
The kind of crazy that will probably evolve into The Crazy Lady With The Cats … except I got rid of my cats a while back.

And, as I said back then, aren’t we all a little bit crazy from time to time?

And just in case you don’t go back to read the other blog post (although its pretty good), I will restate the question posed to a psychiatrist friend “So what do you think normal is?”  Without missing a beat he turned and replied “Normal is Average. And Average is Boring.” Then walked back out the door.

I had used a few real life examples then, as well. Myself, a friend … Charles Manson. And then there was my friend … one recently reunited with his birth mother. Here is his story as I told it then:

Years ago the birth mother, in rapid succession, had several children.

All were deemed by her as cuter than all the other children on the planet.

As each reached the age of two or three … read: the point past which you can no longer keep them in a crib and throw a bottle in to them to keep them quiet … she gave each child up for adoption and continued to have children.

Who is crazier? The woman who gave away the children? Or the friend who reunited with the woman in hopes of finding love long-lost?

Well, as with many things in life, there is more to the story.

Let’s start with the fact that said friend reunited with his Birth Mother, as mentioned above … pledged total love and support of her and disdain of all things Pennsylvania … and travelled cross-country to live with her forever.

In the small apartment where he had lived in Pennsylvania, he managed to trash the place, offend everyone, and leave town owing money to one and all … except me, surprisingly enough.

Four months later, he called back to his landlord in Pennsylvania, begging for his old apartment back … pledged total love and adoration of all things Pennsylvania … and travelled cross-country to be away from the Birth Mother.

In the intervening months here, he again Skyped the Birth Mother, made peace … once more pledged total love and support for her and total-total disdain for all things Pennsylvania … and went back cross-country to live with her forever … again.

In the small apartment where he … once again … had lived in Pennsylvania, he … once again … had managed to trash the place, offend everyone, and leave town owing money to one and all. Oh, and this time he left all his belongings behind.

Flash forward to today … many months later …

The landlord got a call. You know where this is going, don’t you?

He expressed total disgust with all things Birth Mother … He begged to get his old apartment back … which amazingly is now available. He, again,  pledged total love and adoration of all things Pennsylvania … and wants to travel cross country to be away from the Birth Mother.

Now there is a definition of insanity that goes something like this:

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

The landlord is considering letting him stay in the apartment for a month while he looks for somewhere else to live …

That way the landlord will have someone to watch all the animals for a few weeks … so that he can travel … to visit HIS Birth Mother out in the middle of the country.

Which begs the question … who is crazy here?

The Birth Mother who gave away children and struggles to connect with her children?
The friend who has come and gone cross-country several times in search of love and acceptance?

The landlord who thinks that one month won’t do too much damage to the apartment … and who honestly thinks it will be vacated in a month?

Or me, for knowing all these wonderfully crazy people?