My senior year of college, I had this wacko roommate. Ah... well, actually I had two wacko roommates, but one was mostly wacko because her shrink had her doped to the gills on anti-depressants and (god-only-knows-why) anti-psychotics. This entry is not about her.
It's about the other wacko.
Now this chick was nutty, but deceptively so. At first, we thought she was pretty cool. But then we would come home and find her on the futon, watching our TV with some guy, and her mini-skirt would have slid all the way up to her hips so that we could see her underwear. And her underwear was kind of... little-kid-ish... cotton with hearts or bears or flowers on them. Weird.
But that's not what this entry is about either.
No. See, wacko chick seemed to think that I needed extra explanation about reality. And she would punctuate every statement with "Katheeeeeee" "Okay, Katheeeee?" "No, Katheeeeeeeeee, it's not like that." You get the idea. After graduation, I became Kate. Not Kathy, not Katie, just Kate. One syllable, not much you can do to warp it. But I can still hear her f*kd up little voice saying, "But, Katheeeeeeeee."
Ugh. Shudder shudder.