I Blame Shellie

This semester Shellie transferred from Jacksonville to the University of Central Florida in Orlando, leaving behind a boatload of troubled souls to mourn in her wake. 

You see, Shellie and I have been best friends for eleven years, and in that span of time we have managed to never go longer than two weeks without seeing each other.  So her living in a different city three hours away hasn't exactly been the easiest thing, especially since I've taken the semester off to "find myself."

How I Spend My Time:

How Shellie Spends Her Time:

But it's been alright so far.  I mean, it's not even February.  And I've been hanging out with my friend Deborah a lot more lately!

There's just one problem.

Since Shellie and I each share an equal amount of maturity, I have the freedom to let my crazy out when we're together and not fear the consequences.

When I'm with Deborah, however, I am constantly yelling at her not to do stuff that will result in us getting arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.  I command her frantically like a pre-Cesar Millan puppy.

So the Crazy Patty gets bottled up and pushed aside and Sane Mother Patty takes over the majority of the time.  The only time I feel comfortable enough to let Crazy Patty out of her cage (or bottle) is when I am around people with a higher maturity level than me so I don't have to worry about someone dying: namely, my sister Teresa and her husband Will.

They understand Crazy Patty, and are not afraid of her.

Until now.

With so few moments of randomness available, my insanity levels tend to build up.  I'm used to letting it out in hearty yet manageable doses around Shellie.  But now. . .

 

So, Shellie, this is a urgent plea from Teresa and Will, who seriously can't take much more of me:

And I don't blame them.