Moving on from Stolen Car to Satan

There are 23 days left before they give up the search for my car and the insurance company writes me this 'huge check' to cover the loss. At any point between now and then they could find the little guy. I'm really hoping for the first of the two options. I don't want to see what those hoodlums have made of him.

So since, time goes on. This weekend, I didn't spend in mourning. I've cashed in a little on the amazing medicinal properties of alcohol, gotten my hair cut and gotten the shit scared out of me at that new the exorcist or whoever whoever movie. There is nothing to get your mind off the loss of your car than thinking that Lucifer might just creep into your house - and then, creeping into your body. ack! Some people love scary movies, and love the sensation of being frightened. Oh Jesus, not me.

When I was a little girl, I wasn't scared of normal things. Well, I guess there was the mental image of Jaws growing legs and climbing up the stairs to my bedroom -- But mostly there was one frightening idea of Satan, very calmly, legs crossed, in a chair, sitting in my closet watching me sleep.

My best friend, Jeanne, she used to be scared of being possessed. Once asked a priest at her catholic school if she could be, he didn't calm her fear whatsoever. Poor babyjeanne, thinking about the devil crawling into her flesh and having no control over her body or mind. It's nice when you and your best buddy were afraid of the same things when you were little. I guesss though, Jeanne's satan was far scarier than mine was. My satan just watched me while he chilled out next to my dress with neon orange bow.