Our apartment complex has its resident resident-with-a-complex: a girl about 12 years old who talks to herself continually. Not to herself, really, but to someone else. Like she's conversing with an invisible friend, long past the age when such conversations are considered sane.
Sometimes I am baffled by her, other times amused. But sometimes I am afraid. Will she ever grow out of it? Will she survive in the wider world?
Or will she figure out someday that she can just slap on a BlueTooth headset and magically fit right in?
What would I know, anyway? I wear tacky ties.
(On the tie blog, a two-fer.)