I’ve always been in love with the moon, in all its forms.  But I’m particularly attached to its crescent and full forms; they’re always just too pretty.  I guess in a sense I am a lunatic, that I am sort of obsessed with its eternally changing face.  I remember when I was undergoing that inhumane process of puberty I attributed the mood swings to the phases of the moon.  Silly, I know, but I felt that much connected to it.  And then came in the werewolf phase; I didn’t figure myself to be one, mind you, but I was semi-obsessed…