You know how it is. Daily life, I mean: coffee pots, the carpool lane, work schedules and voice mails. The unexpected Santeria spell. What to do with all those ashes… you know, of your loved ones. And then there's the interruptions from storytelling ghosts with no sense of decorum… So one day you stop pretending to be normal. Because not even your shampoo is normal, and the dog has still got to be picked up from the vet, even if your house still has its original owner prowling the ground floor, looking for a blender to make Margaritas. One day, you just have to tell somebody. Even if it sounds a little offbeat. Maybe a little rude.