For All The Ghosts That Are Never Gonna Catch Me…

Paranormal activity. Entertainment (aka BS) or unsolved mysteries yo? Now, if you start asking around everyone has a few random inexplicable ghostie stories, or stories of the stories of other peeps. Hence the popularity of today’s ghost hunters and celeb ghost encounter TV shows.

Well, since I pretty much always have something better I should be doing, I am not going to do that important stuff, instead I am going to share my own paranormal experiences with you. I mean, because like I said, we all love us a good ghost story.





First creeptastic, and most emotionally damaging, story: I was 10-years-old. My cousin was living with us at the moment due to being a total brat to her own mother. She is completely paying for this in kid-karma today, but that is neither here nor there. This cousin was also our babysitter at the time. A dominating and controlling tell us what to do or lock-you-in-a-room-all-day kind of sitter she was. Now, today, I love my cousin so much and she has 3 daughters (now teens) of her own, but back in the day she was needless to say (emotionally) scary. Well, one day she decided it would be cool to bring home an Ouija Board. Then daily force me (via threat of violence/time in the hole) to play said Ouija Board with her. Which thoroughly freakedmethefuckout , but what could I do? Anyway, nothing particularly eventful came out of our sessions of speaking with the dead. She kept trying to reach our grandmother who had very recently passed away in some unfortunate circumstances. I can’t really remember who else she tried to talk to, but whateves. So I bet you’re waiting for the “scary” part, right? Well, each night that week-of-the-Ouija I apparently (from what my mother would tell me) was having serious night terrors. We’re talking inconsolable not-able-to-wake-me-up fits! The kind of stuff that was scaring the crap out of my whole family. And then, the next morning, zero memory of these events. Am-frickin-nesia. "Sorry, to hear about that suckers. I feel like I slept great." Some serious Captain Howdy kind of shit, right there yo. Well, after like the 4th day of my mom complaining about my terrorizing the family in my sleep I decided that I was sick and tired of this Ouija Board afternoon date with my cousin and told her to "back off beotch". And although I ended up spending the rest of that day locked in my bedroom drawing a mural of Synergy from 'Jem and The Holograms' on the back of my dresser, I no longer was victim of the devil board. And from that night on, no more midnight freakfest. Completely gone, no more problems ever again for the rest of my life. Subconscious response to my personal fear or some scary ass devil shit? You decide.





Scary Story Numero Dos: For about a year Joey and I lived in this 4-plex when my oldest was almost age 2. Our neighbors were all fellow teens or early 20-somethings and it was pretty chill. No one telling us what to do. Only one other young kid, maybe 5, lived in our building. It was a cool place, kind of in a not-so-nice area, but we had a private driveway and parking so no big concerns. Well, once I thought I saw a guy walking with a gun in his hand, but I was driving kind of fast (imagine that) so it could have been a cell phone. I don’t know. Anyway, sorry about the tangent, back to the story. So one night I am woken up 3 TIMES by the sound of a baby just bawling its eyes out. Now, I was one of those mothers that let their kid sleep in the bed with them (don’t judge me, life was easier that way, OK?) so I could see it wasn’t my Sookie Pookie throwing a bitch fit in the middle of the night. When I went to the bathroom it stopped. “Lame ass noisy baby” I thought to myself. The next morning I was taking my dog Tito out for his morning whiz when the neighbor stopped to chat me up. She started talking about one of our neighbors being a little noisy so I asked her if she heard the baby the night before. She didn’t. While we were talking the other neighbor girl happened to be walking to her car and eavesdropping said she didn’t think anyone had a baby visiting that weekend so she didn’t know whose brat would have woken me up all night. Note - I had asked Joey and he didn’t ever hear any baby himself. Oh well, whatever, annoying baby issue didn’t matter much anyway. So I went back in the house and started my Saturday routine. When I went to vacuum my kid asked me to go get his toy vacuum so he could “help”. I told him it was right by the door in his room to go and get it himself since mommy was busy. He stopped and said “I don’t want to Mommy. I’m scared of the baby in my room”. CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH! (<-- sound from the Jason Movies. FYI.) So, killer baby ghost in Sookie’s room at that place? Or some random baby crying we both heard and my kid being dramatic? IDK. Nobody will ever know (or care, but still).





Third, and lastly, my final brush with the spooksters: From the ages of 17-20 I worked as a CNA at an Assisted Living facility. Now, I know as glamorous as it sounds I did actually enjoy doing it. I mean, do you know how hot you can look in scrubs? Oh yeah! Anyway, I worked the 6pm-6am schedule to avoid needing a babysitter during the day since ya know, I’d already given up my youth for the exciting world o’parenting. Go me! Well, one summer Evelyn H. (one of my favorite patients) had a stroke in the middle of the night and it was on my watch. I was the first one to respond to her room when she called for help. When I knelt down beside her bed to figure out what was wrong I swore out of the corner of my eye I saw her husband Arnie (his name was really Arnold, but this is what she called him in her thick New York accent) in the bathroom! It was so striking I gasped out loud like when someone scares you. BUT, there was no one in the bathroom. It was empty. Arnie had passed away 6-months earlier. Uh, hello! However, I had been the one to come in the room every night to walk him to the bathroom, to prevent falls, and had done so hundreds of times before he had passed away. It could have easily been my photographic memory. So after the ambulance had come to take Evelyn away to the hospital I was talking with another CNA. I just couldn’t shake that scared feeling. I told her that I was pretty sure that Evelyn was going to die because I was pretty sure for a split second I saw Arnie in the bathroom. She laughed at me and told me to chill out. Evelyn died the next day. Arnie H. coming to pick up his wife to go “home”? Or a sleep deprived girl having a momentary flash back in her brain? *Shrugs shoulders.*





Now, I have to tell you I still don’t know if I have any belief in ghosts. I have a hard time with belief in things that are unproven to the point where I have spent a lot of my adulthood struggling with where I stand on religion and things of the like even. It’s hard for my brain to fully accept things I cannot see here in black and white. But I guess like everyone else, I do have my little “ghost stories” here to share. How about you?



Oh and well, since all of my blog titles are song lyrics or song titles I just had to throw one in. So here is the song that has been stuck in my head since I started writing this bad boy. Thanks Gerard.