The night after Cyndi Lauper moved into the

The night after Cyndi Lauper moved into the condo adjacent to mine, she began slamming into the connecting wall while screaming "SHE-BOP!", a performance which would prove a habit.

It was sad, really.Such a gifted artist, now so confused. "Let your true colors shine through, Cyndi!" I implored, night after night.But she was just a girl who wanted to have fun.

Not so unusual after all. When pressed about her recent work in TV adverts, Cyndi said it was "good enough for her" and plunged right into a song-and-dance number on the spot.

Cyndi hated everything. That was her identity. If she didn't something, then who would she be? She would be a void. Cyndi couldn't tolerate that so, everything she saw she

hated on sight. She silently blamed her mother, who was stupid enough to give her a cheerleader name. In the dark recesses of her mind she renamed herself Zinaida. Sultry, sensual,

and original. But the recesses of her mind kept mispronouncing it "Sinéad?" or misforgetting "Zongaminga?" or just outright making fun of her secret name "

Was, three years later, still taking those purple pills that wrecked ones memory. The side effects lasted about five years. So it would be at least 2022 before she expected to be

able to remember what she expected she would remember. She took her purple pills with her when she painted the town red. She renamed it Lago & savored the innkeeper's wife, thrice.

"Stop savoring me, you creep!" sneered the innkeeper's wife as daggers shot from her eyes and into the mind of she who would from then on be known as the madwoman of Lago.