Stalagmites are good teddy bears

...When you are living in a cave.  At least that is what I assume, and also I'm sincerely looking forward to snuggling with them.  Since my next place of residence will be a dark secluded cave as far away from human existence as possible, and without any direct human interaction (outside of controlled response internet) what so ever.  I'm looking forward to getting to know more about my mineral based calcified rock friends - seriously. 

Some bonuses to that relationship:
They don't look at you awkwardly when you say something off key. 
Stalagmites don't want to avoid you if you come across weird. 

There are many things that make me adore the idea of Stalagmites as a teddy bear... but mostly those above items.  Frequent delivery of pitted Kalamata olive jars in the cave would be cool, but still - the location of the cave needs to be far away, so that may not be possible.  The notion of living in a cave is WAY better than the realism of interaction I get now, which is the head-jerking-back-rolled-eyes-freakish-glare look I presently receive when just about anything comes out of my mouth.  Sigh.  It's so hard sometimes to be abnormal, and pretend to be NORMAL.  I joke about how fun it is being weird... and sometimes it really is fun!, but most times it's just sad.  Sad, like in a way that you wish your dog had a play friend and wasn't depressed all the time, sad.  On the whole, though, it's just incredibly isolating.  One bad comment from me leads to a slew of other people's judgements, and then you try to make up for that comment by digging yourself a bigger hole through explaining yourself with other comments that backfire (come on, people just don't get you already!, why keep trying?!?), then the blank listless stare from your listening party ensues... this is horribly bad.  This is the worst sign that you are the biggest loser ever.  Ugh.  The icing on the cake is when you hear the tell tale sign (and from a close friend), "You're weird!"  This, unfortunately, is what I get A LOT.  It's enough to want to make me curl up in a fetal position, with a bottle of VERY good Grey goose, a couple of lemons, and a snuggly blanket - all in a cave of course with a horror movie.  FAR AWAY from society.  Away from all the non-understanding stares regarding the verbal diarrhea that comes out of my mouth.  I can't help it sometimes the verbal gook that just vomits out under stress or anxiety fueled times.  It's compulsive.  I abhor it, but it's true. 

This is what makes me different from most.  I have no filter.  I have no ability to discern others emotions whilst in the throws of the conversation.  I can read faces, but I don't *really* get it - until its too late.  I can't say or suggest things without having an air of efficiency and logical distinction.  It SUCKS.  Why am I so weird?  Anyways... back to my Utopian condo nestled in the volcanic mountains of nowhere... I can't wait to make a dirty martini and play with the Dolphins... outside of mating season of course, because they're awfully aggressive during that time.  But seriously, I can't wait to find my own "Nim's Island".  Maybe then, on my island of "nowhere", I won't be seen as a social abomination, but a master mind of brilliance. 

"So, I have that going for me, which is nice." - Bill Murray, Caddy Shack

My ghosts are lazy

OK, so after all that serious, spine chilling, Alfred Hitchcock-esque talk about weird paranormal experience and other strange happenings in my house, I decided I should lighten up a bit.  After all, this is supposed to be a funny blog, with real moments only sporadically.  Pfft.

I got to thinking in the shower the other morning, I do my best thinking in there, and I believe my friend had the right idea.  She suggested that I need to put the ghosts to work and then maybe their presence wouldn't be so awful.  What could these ghosts do to make me feel better about them being around all the time?  Interesting question to ask myself, but I actually came up with some great answers... I hope they're listening.

Things my house ghosts could do to make our coexistance better:

1. Fold my laundry. 
I mean really.  There are, like, literally mountains of unwashed, and washed laundry.  I SERIOUSLY hate folding laundry.  If they're going to be up all hours of the night, folding a few loads isn't too much to ask, is it?

2. While we're on the laundry topic, why not run a load in the washer for me? 
If they can lift crap off the shelves, then they certainly could lift a pour of Oxyclean and Tide into the washer, at, oh, say 1 AM?  Make your poltergeist activity work for YOU.  Ghosts, if your feeling naughty, maybe iron a few shirts too?  Just sayin.

3. Wash all the dishes and clean the kitchen at night. 
You know what nights I am talking about.  Those nights where your meal has created a mountainous volcano of dishes - ready to erupt onto your floor - and you're starting to notice goats roaming around your perimeter.  Those nights it would ESPECIALLY fantastic if the ghosts would just take care of that for me. 

4. I really don't like pulling crab grass from the garden. 
As much as I love playing tug of war with a rhizomatous chlorophyll beast, I REALLY don't like all the spiders in the bushes I need to brush up against to do it myself.  Clearly ghost weeding is in order.  Benefit for the ghost?  It could get all that pent up otherworldly frustration out in a healthy manner... instead of, oh I don't know, throwing my clock off the wall.

5. Massage my feet?
Instead of wasting all that manifestation power with pushing down on  my chest, flipping my arms out of bed, or paralyzing me with fear, why not just do something nice for a change?  Massaging my feet would help bring our relationship to the next level and simultaneously bridge the gap that is our lack of trust with one another.

Obviously, there are so many other things that the ghosts could be doing to make my life better, but this is a start.   Once I feel like the above have become an effortless routine for my spooks, I might actually be able to overlook the damaged clock and my worn out pscyhe.

Paranormal Story #1 - My history of activity in this area

Being "sensitive" has always been my gift/ curse.  I have had so many experiences, that I will just have to give you some of the highlight reels.  This will just include stories from this general area that we have lived in (mostly our house now, but I've had spirits follow me from one home to another).  Maybe later I can embellish on what we believe are spirits that used to talk to my little sister in our living room growing up...

Back when we were living as boyfriend and girlfriend in 2000-2003 in what was
hubby's apartment at the time, I would get a NASTY spirit visiting me only when
the boyfriend was not home or traveling. This was a male energy and gave me the immediate feeling of terror I felt when it would appear and that I was being ogled for sexual violation.  This black mass would stand at the end of my bed. I could feel it appear, and it usually was just after hearing heavy footsteps walking up the stairs with no one there.  After this *thing* being around me too many times to count, and only when the man was not there and I was alone, I did a smudging. That cleared the icky- nessout until we moved to our first "condo" two blocks away. The nasty thing followed me to the next place. I did another smudging, and it went away.  Haven't had that one around since.

Now skip ahead to post baby, now living in newly built home (where we currently reside).  Big kid is 10 months old. She's in a crib in her baby room (now little kid's room), and frequently upon checking on her at night I would get that feeling
like I just walked in on someone in the bathroom stall.  It wasn't negative or a bad feeling per se, but I just *felt* I had walked in on an energy and startled it.  I had a deep feeling it was a family connection to my husbands side.  One day I noticed a deeply embedded black ash smudge on the carpet 2 feet into the room from the door (we don't wear shoes in the house).  It was so far down enmeshed into the carpet it was at the base of the strands and still loose/ coming up onto my
finger.  It was the circumference of a cigar ash dropping. It appeared overnight. Freaky.  Shortly after big kid started to climb out of the crib at eleven months, we moved her onto the floor and quickly into the next bigger room for more play space. SECOND ASH MARK appeared right next to the edge of her bed on the carpet - same description - except now it's right by her head. Also appeared overnight.  Double freaky.

Since then we have had a PLETHORA of experiences... big kid has never been afraid of the dark until she was four and a half.  It was then that she was waking up scared at 1 or 2 AM and not wanting to go back to her room because of what she described as "the hammering on her ceiling".  Yup.  Poor kiddo.  Now we do hail mary's every night as some form of protection - I'm not even that religious.  That was inspired around the time I kept seeing orbs flying past little kid's head, stopping and hovering above her, then reversing (all over the baby monitor). For almost three weeks straight I would come to check on little kid and the camera cord attached to the wall would be ripped off.  It's secured with a cross hold and is affixed with adhesive to the side of the molding. I tested it every night from there on to make sure I couldn't rip it off, only to come back in to find it ripped off. Once while watching her sleep on the monitor, I saw the cord rip off on its own!  I was freaked. This was during her nap time in the middle of the day (have I mentioned that this stuff also happens in the day time?).  My portable makeup mirror would crash into the sink where it originated from the middle of the
counter.  I would hear bangs upstairs while little kid was sleeping, etc.  I never
liked that the attic access was in the baby room (what builder does that???), so
we had it moved out to the hallway, with the only entrance available being right
outside of big kid's bedroom door.  We have a ladder attached to the door to get
up there.  Currently the stuff in little kid's room has stopped, but I wonder if that access has some activity tied to it.

I never did like it anyways... more stories to come.

Paranormal activity continues

If you read my last post, then you would know I have been experiencing some weird phenomena occurring at my house.  This is nothing new, and hasn't been anything new for the last 5 years of living here.  Recent activity is fairly new in that I haven't had anything happen since May when the house was blessed by a Catholic Bishop (by the way, I'm not catholic).  Mr. Clock projecting from the wall was a nasty rude awakening, but it didn't end there.  After calming myself down, speaking with friends, family members and more friends to gauge my sanity... they admitted, I'm a pretty logical person, with weirdo tendencies, but pretty logical.  

In the wee hours of the morning following the previous 5AM clock experience, I'm again in the family room watching the food network.  Another bout of insomnia has taken me and as I watch the TV time show that it's reaching 2 AM I'm actually getting a little tired, finally.  I had the remote lying in my lap in the middle of my legs, totally still.  I start to dip my eyes, open, dip, open, dipping more... ok, getting tired, this is good.  Out of nowhere, the TV, tuner and speakers all shut down.  Simultaneously, my remote which has a fresh set of batteries mind you, dies instantly.  Not even a backlight.  Nothing.  Room turns cold like the AC is on at 50 degrees.  WTH?  It's 85 out?  It's 75 in here.  Weird.  I felt something strange, but held my ground.  I don't know what the hell is going on, but I don't like it. 
I immediately say out loud, "This is MY house.  Go back to where you came from, you do NOT belong here."  I'm pseudo freaking out.  Hair on my body has been standing up solid since the AV equipment shut off.  Let me tell you, I have a fancy AV system in my house.  You can't just hit a button and things shut off.  You have to select the source, then hit the zone, then select power off.  Not likely that any movement of my body did this instant shut down.  No storms.  No power flickers.  Just weird.  It still doesn't explain the remote?!?  That thing can be dying for days and it will show you the status of the battery with a picture icon at the top.  Died instantly.  I walk upstairs, grab my children, force them to sleep in my bed for the night. 

What's on the agenda for tomorrow?: smudging, then lining the whole perimeter of my home with Sea Salt.  Looks like the Bishop didn't leave much of a mark for this unwanted guest... I need to look at all avenues. 

Will keep you posted, and have now decided to post a few more of my ghost stories that have occurred here... so if you're interested, check back.  There are some that would make your hair curl.

My haunted house

It's a little disturbing to admit that I have ghosts in my home.  I should state, however, that they generally are nice ones, or so it seems, but every once in a while I get large pockets of "activity" that are not so nice.  Or shall I say, FREAKY.  I've had some seriously whacked experiences here, but luckily things have been sort of quiet for a while.  Until this morning.  I hadn't slept well to start off with.  I've been under a tremendous amount of pressure and stress and with that combination, insomnia usually creeps into my brain.  I finally dozed off about 3:30 AM, only to be startled awake by a cacophonous crashing and smashing sound.  At first I didn't understand what happened.  I was just coming to from a deep REM sleep, so it took me a minute to adjust and get my brain wrapped around the fact that the crashing sound came from below me, one level, in my kitchen area.  Now, logic always kicks in first when strange things happen.  Big kid has been waking up earlier than everyone lately during this summer break and helping herself to the iPad - until she's hungry, or other people wake up, or she wakes me up.  My first thought was, "Did she try to reach some food up high and something crashed on her?!?".  Although even this thought immediately seemed unlikely, because it's very seldom she's waking up at 5:15 AM.  That's even too early for her.  Next racing thought passes... OMG!, it's a break in.  That sound was way too close to a *breaking-glass-crashing-through-a-door* sound to be something trivial, or unworthy of scoping out.  I look around my room for something to use as protection and I'm just failing miserably with the task.  I decide to just go without protection and check it out... I figure the longer he's in the house, the greater the risk to my children and myself.  At least that made sense in my sleep deprived mind?

I walk down into the kitchen to find nothing... wait... that's impossible!  I know I heard one of the loudest sounds I have ever heard in this place!  What the heck made this horrific crashing sound?  I notice that the thirteen inch clock that rests above the deck doors has not only removed itself from the wall, but has flung itself halfway across the kitchen floor in a projectile manner.

This wasn't a simple falling down.  It lifted and projected across the room (under the chair in the foreground is the back of the clock where it landed - another foot above the top of the doors *which the top foot of the door is cut out of the photo* is where it originated from).  The fan is on the lowest speed which is creating a wind current the same force as one of those classic Chinese folding hand fans.  It would have to be a LOT more forceful than that for this clock to be lifted upward off of the flat head nail base it's on (which the nail head is on an angle - head pointing up towards the ceiling), removed from the wall, and projected 5'5" from the wall.  As it stands without paranormal activity going on, just to change batteries, I have to stand on a chair to reach it, lift it upwards towards the ceiling about two inches to remove it from the nail head, and pull it out.  I just sat there in complete shock, terrorized and paralyzed with fear.  My hands were shaking uncontrollably.  I couldn't even figure out what expression I felt... it was THAT scary.  I picked up the clock, which was frozen on the time that it was flung onto the floor at 5:20 AM since the battery had been knocked out by the sheer force of the drop.  I placed the battery and clock on the counter, regrouped my emotions enough to form words, and asked, "What do you want?!?".  Nothing.  Silence.  Just frightening silence and an intense cold air surrounding me.  With body tremors on full throttle speed, I walked back upstairs, lie in bed... still shaking uncontrollably... and heard a whimpering cry of a boy saying what sounded like "mom" (?) and decided to ignore that completely.  I'm just too frightened to acknowledge anything more in this moment.  Then I do the only thing I know to do (not overly religious at all BTW), I said at least a thousand Hail Mary prayers for an hour until I fell asleep at 6:30 AM.  Waking up at 7:30 AM things seemed fine... but that shell shocked experience is looming over my head like a storm cloud waiting to burst.  I'm alone with the kids for the next 2 days at least... I'm beyond spooked to know what the next few nights have in store for me?

I'm frightened.
I'm depleting the stock of rock salt from all my neighborhood stores.
Paranormal thing... it's on.

Dear ATM Debit Machine

Why must you torment me so?  When I swipe my card, I don't know, can you just REGISTER it?  By registering it, I mean, can you please just read the data and go about your business?  Do I have to answer all these asinine questions before my purchase can be completed?  I think two questions MAXIMUM should be allowed.  Anything more than that is utterly ridiculous, and just an absolute waste of my time and everyone else behind me.

Why, prey tell is it ridiculous, you ask?  I will inform you.

In this world full of instant gratification and multiple choice, we have over delegated options for choices to the debit card machine.  It should be swipe, punch in pin and you're done.  Get out.  Get on with your life.
But, no, wait!, now you have to ask if I have a *special-like fancy* frequent buyer card, and if not, "what's my phone number?".  After that, I swipe my card, yet again, another question irrelevant to my purchase.  "Would I like to donate and support Dolphins with athletes foot?".  I have my own charitable donations I participate in, and no I would not like to participate today.  Do you think that's the end of relentless debit card machine and the twenty questions game?  NO.  Nooooooo.  I'm barely reeling back from the last questions time sink - and pondering my sanity as I feverishly eye-scan the isles adjacent to this machine for my whirling dervish children - next round of questions is, "Would you like cash back?".  No, I don't, I just want this to END... but I can't find the frigging button to select that option since it's hidden and basically like 20 times smaller than the actual size of the other buttons.  THEN I am asked to swipe again.  AGAIN!?!?  Holy mother of all that is decent... I'm about to blow a major fuse and start to spark electricity simultaneously from my butt and ears.  My kids are screaming and running down the isle behind me to my left (outside of eyesight), and the cashier asks me to scan the card again.  OMFG.  I literally exclaim out loud, "AGAIN?!?!?!" and scan it again.  FINALLY the purchase is complete.  Apparently, I have a new frequent special card, my phone number is listed for it's use when ever I want it (DIDN'T ASK FOR THAT AT ALL), and I have donated 50.00 to Dolphins with athletes foot.

I grab the bag, run after my children and gather up what is left of my fragmented brain from this entire experience.  I. NEVER. WANT. TO. GO. TO. A. STORE. AGAIN.  That's it, I'm going to make a garden and just grow everything I  need.  I'll have bushels of things growing fruitfully from trees... things like ear thermometer batteries, lactaid, toothpaste and toilet paper.  Then I won't have to deal with the evil debit card machine EVER AGAIN.