Having a relationship with someone who has extreme highs and lows really sucks. Its like you're always on edge around the person. I mean, I get that some people have legitimate reasons why they are that way. Bi-polar and stuff. I get that. But it doesn't make it any easier. I basically have that kind of relationship with my grandmother (we live together). For instance, we were watching Castaway the other night. She got all worked up over because it was a FedEx plane that had crashed. FedEx is her parcel delivery service of choice, the one which she entrusts both incoming and outgoing underwear deliveries with. Apparently, her elderly mind had never allowed for the possibility that her underthings may never reach the port of their final destination. She absolutely flipped her shit. I tried to calm her. I stroked her wig and applied some Vicks Vaporub, the only topical rub endorsed by NFL legend Michael Vick (also goes great on ribs), on her chest. I told her it was just a movie, that it didn't it really happen. Fed Ex was in fact a very good parcel delivery service. After all, they were way more reliable than the USPS (many of whom are serial killers, I'm sure of it and so is my grandmother) and had more fair hiring practices than that of the carrier pigeons she used to employ before the state of New York passed legislation limiting the number of birds allowed inside a private residence to "under three hundred and fifty." It was no use, though. She got more and more worked up until finally she started running around our TV room as if she'd dropped a cigarette down her night dress again, tits flopping all over the place as she did. I made a mental note to retake her measurements at a time when she was more calm. Her 38EE days looked to be behind her. She was more of a 42 long now. Ten minutes of this scene passed. Normally, the old girl would have tired herself out. But she had been drinking that morning and I think that gave her a little more energy to keep her tantrum going. And I'm not talking about her usual tipple of schnapps and growler of lager and forty of Old English, either. She downed an entire box of white zinfandel on top of that. The stuff was her nemesis, her kryptonite, her vagin pourpre. Something about the rose hips they use in the affirmation process just make her totally crazy and also a little slutty. Couple that with the fact she was also waiting on the results of her latest Pabst smear and it was a perfect storm. So I really can't be blamed for hitting her with the taser again. I guess let that be a lesson to everyone -- consuming a box of white zinfandel before noon while waiting for lab results, then watching Castaway later on, can result in erotic behaviour, especially in the elderly.