I love this time of year, and I love you too. :)
12.25.2003
12.23.2003
Well, I've given notice. In two weeks I shall be offically homeless. Not for the first time either, fun stuff.
No I haven't posted about it, or even explained it to alot of you, and I don't think I'm going to. I might go into it in detail, but then again I'm awfully tired of the whole situation so I might not. Maybe when it's all settled I will. Although, it will be hard to blog from my brand spanking new stove box under a bridge.
This should be fun. I can't wait to see how it turns out.
No I haven't posted about it, or even explained it to alot of you, and I don't think I'm going to. I might go into it in detail, but then again I'm awfully tired of the whole situation so I might not. Maybe when it's all settled I will. Although, it will be hard to blog from my brand spanking new stove box under a bridge.
This should be fun. I can't wait to see how it turns out.
12.22.2003
I got The Fountainhead today in the mail as a present. I will read it, and then return to you my baffled and shallow thoughts on it.
Sound good? Good.
Sound good? Good.
12.19.2003
Yay! Sheep time! Let's do the Friday Five, cause everything else I have to post about is serious, and I want to pretend it's not there for just a little while longer.
1. List your five favorite beverages.
Root Beer
Russian Tea (which kills me, but it's worth the pain)
Green Tea
Vanilla Coke
Water!
2. List your five favorite websites.
I don't really have any favorites. The ones I visit on a daily basis are blogs.
3. List your five favorite snack foods.
Green Olives
Soy nuts
Those weird freeze dried fruit
Hard candy
Lately, jerky
4. List your five favorite board and/or card games.
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
5. List your five favorite computer and/or game system games.
Oh it beats me, anything horror themed I love.
Wow, I'm so boring. Nevermind, let's not do the Friday Five anymore, it's just going to prove how very shallow I am.
Current Christmas Song: Eugene Maslov - Come All Ye Faithful
1. List your five favorite beverages.
Root Beer
Russian Tea (which kills me, but it's worth the pain)
Green Tea
Vanilla Coke
Water!
2. List your five favorite websites.
I don't really have any favorites. The ones I visit on a daily basis are blogs.
3. List your five favorite snack foods.
Green Olives
Soy nuts
Those weird freeze dried fruit
Hard candy
Lately, jerky
4. List your five favorite board and/or card games.
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
Candy Land
5. List your five favorite computer and/or game system games.
Oh it beats me, anything horror themed I love.
Wow, I'm so boring. Nevermind, let's not do the Friday Five anymore, it's just going to prove how very shallow I am.
12.15.2003
The conversations I have when I'm bored, and avoiding work.
Saetan SaDiablo: We're gonna have tuna for dinner!
Saetan SaDiablo: I was playing the bum and hangin' in the kitchen
Rhea Rhyolin: Ewwwwwwwww
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is gross.
Saetan SaDiablo: Is not, it's good.
Saetan SaDiablo: Fish is gross though.
Rhea Rhyolin: No, it's nasty.
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is fish, mook!
Saetan SaDiablo: Is not, it's fake.
Saetan SaDiablo: It's dolphin.
Rhea Rhyolin: ::laugh::
Rhea Rhyolin: It's baby
Saetan SaDiablo: baby dolphin?
Rhea Rhyolin: Baby people!
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is baby people!
Saetan SaDiablo: Ew.
Make me get back to work somebody, and do it quickly.
Current Christmas Song: The Beegie Adair Trio - Let it snow
Saetan SaDiablo: We're gonna have tuna for dinner!
Saetan SaDiablo: I was playing the bum and hangin' in the kitchen
Rhea Rhyolin: Ewwwwwwwww
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is gross.
Saetan SaDiablo: Is not, it's good.
Saetan SaDiablo: Fish is gross though.
Rhea Rhyolin: No, it's nasty.
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is fish, mook!
Saetan SaDiablo: Is not, it's fake.
Saetan SaDiablo: It's dolphin.
Rhea Rhyolin: ::laugh::
Rhea Rhyolin: It's baby
Saetan SaDiablo: baby dolphin?
Rhea Rhyolin: Baby people!
Rhea Rhyolin: Tuna is baby people!
Saetan SaDiablo: Ew.
Make me get back to work somebody, and do it quickly.
12.14.2003
12.12.2003
You want a Christmas card from me? Even if you don't celebrate Christmas? Yeah, I knew you did.
Pop me by your address so I can stalk you as l send you one. I have five left, so hurry hurry hurry before they're all gone and you don't get a sappy folded cardboard greeting from yours truly.
Current Christmas Song: Jimmy Durante - Frosty The Snowman
Pop me by your address so I can stalk you as l send you one. I have five left, so hurry hurry hurry before they're all gone and you don't get a sappy folded cardboard greeting from yours truly.
We're avoiding the inevitable meeting that slowly approaches this morning at work, so we're doing the Friday Five and talking about ourselves in the plural.
1. Do you enjoy the cold weather and snow for the holidays?
I love snow, I'm not a huge fan of the cold, especially not when I have to drag myself out of bed at 4:30 AM to go walk/jog in it. Snow around Christmas is perfect though, it can snow the day before, melt the day after. Tada, perfection.
2. What is your ideal holiday celebration? How, where, with whom would you celebrate to make things perfect?
Anywhere that's all decorated up, with all the people I love in one spot (actually tolerating each other for once) is my ideal holiday celebration.
3. Do you do have any holiday traditions?
I get my Christmas tree on my birthday, and usually finish decorating then too. Last few years Christmas has been at my house, I suppose that's the new tradition. Always watch the Grinch (cartoon, not the dumb movie) at least 100 times a season, and the holidays haven't started until they play it on T.V. for the first time.
4. Do you do anything to help the needy?
I do what I can when I can, and then daydream that I'm rich and can do so much more.
5. What one gift would you like for yourself?
I want all of my friends in one spot in a cabin in the woods for Christmas. That would be the perfect gift.
Current Christmas Song: The Frogmen's Chorus - The Twelve Frogs of Christmas
1. Do you enjoy the cold weather and snow for the holidays?
I love snow, I'm not a huge fan of the cold, especially not when I have to drag myself out of bed at 4:30 AM to go walk/jog in it. Snow around Christmas is perfect though, it can snow the day before, melt the day after. Tada, perfection.
2. What is your ideal holiday celebration? How, where, with whom would you celebrate to make things perfect?
Anywhere that's all decorated up, with all the people I love in one spot (actually tolerating each other for once) is my ideal holiday celebration.
3. Do you do have any holiday traditions?
I get my Christmas tree on my birthday, and usually finish decorating then too. Last few years Christmas has been at my house, I suppose that's the new tradition. Always watch the Grinch (cartoon, not the dumb movie) at least 100 times a season, and the holidays haven't started until they play it on T.V. for the first time.
4. Do you do anything to help the needy?
I do what I can when I can, and then daydream that I'm rich and can do so much more.
5. What one gift would you like for yourself?
I want all of my friends in one spot in a cabin in the woods for Christmas. That would be the perfect gift.
12.08.2003
I'm taking a break from work to post. Actually, I'm avoiding work by using the excuse that I'm taking a break from work to post. Either way, here I am.
It's not raining today, as much as I love the rain, I am kind of glad for the lull in spittle from above. The reasoning is not because I'm tired of it, but because my living room is slowly turning into an indoor pool. Pretty soon it will be full enough that I can switch on the base board heaters, throw in a gallon or two of chlorine and open it up to the public.
Christ.
The leak, which started a little over a week ago in one spot, has slowly but surely spread itself over a good two foot by two foot area. However, it's not leaking in that entire area, just in certain places that systematically change overnight to miss the saucepans thus ensuring the thorough saturation and ruining of my living room carpet.
If my landlady asks me why I haven't paid rent yet, I am not responsible for the words that come out of my mouth.
Current Christmas Song: Low - Silent Night
It's not raining today, as much as I love the rain, I am kind of glad for the lull in spittle from above. The reasoning is not because I'm tired of it, but because my living room is slowly turning into an indoor pool. Pretty soon it will be full enough that I can switch on the base board heaters, throw in a gallon or two of chlorine and open it up to the public.
Christ.
The leak, which started a little over a week ago in one spot, has slowly but surely spread itself over a good two foot by two foot area. However, it's not leaking in that entire area, just in certain places that systematically change overnight to miss the saucepans thus ensuring the thorough saturation and ruining of my living room carpet.
If my landlady asks me why I haven't paid rent yet, I am not responsible for the words that come out of my mouth.
12.06.2003
Today, as I was walking through the grocery store, I turned the corner and there sat Santa. Decked in his fuzzy white and red suit and settled in a not-so-cozy looking chair next to a table where children were happily decorating gingerbread houses with oozing gooey substances and colorful flecks of sugar.
"There's Santa." I said, shuffling the groceries around in my arms.
"Yep, there's Santa. Why don't you go over and sit on his lap?" She said.
I thought it over. Yes, sitting on Santa's lap would be something I would do. I was after all, wearing a quite flattering pair of belled raindeer antlers. I've got nothing against the man. He's Santa, you've got to love Santa.
"Ho ho ho, you want to sit on my lap? Is that what you said?" Eyeing us walking by, Santa gave another laugh.
"No, I meant she can sit on your lap." She said, gesturing at me with a grin.
"Oh, it's Christmas!" He said, spreding his arms with a really quite naughty glint in his eye. "I think you can both sit on my lap."
Oh yes, Santa. Got to love the man.
"There's Santa." I said, shuffling the groceries around in my arms.
"Yep, there's Santa. Why don't you go over and sit on his lap?" She said.
I thought it over. Yes, sitting on Santa's lap would be something I would do. I was after all, wearing a quite flattering pair of belled raindeer antlers. I've got nothing against the man. He's Santa, you've got to love Santa.
"Ho ho ho, you want to sit on my lap? Is that what you said?" Eyeing us walking by, Santa gave another laugh.
"No, I meant she can sit on your lap." She said, gesturing at me with a grin.
"Oh, it's Christmas!" He said, spreding his arms with a really quite naughty glint in his eye. "I think you can both sit on my lap."
Oh yes, Santa. Got to love the man.
12.02.2003
Yay! As you can see, I changed the layout for the holidays. This is an older layout I used a couple years ago, but with a few minor changes. Fun stuff!
For those of you wondering, I once again didn't finish NaNoWriMo but I've decided to keep writing on it. When I get it transfered to this computer I'll put a link up so you can read it.
For those of you wondering, I once again didn't finish NaNoWriMo but I've decided to keep writing on it. When I get it transfered to this computer I'll put a link up so you can read it.
11.28.2003
(Reposted from The Pevert Club)
Many of you know Persa, the awesome girl from FearlessZippy.com and a frequent reader of my blog. She's done the Blogathon for the last couple of years and everyone who knows her adores her. This is serious stuff, a couple days ago she went missing and her family needs help in finding out where she went.
More information on this can be found at this page http://www.zulas.com/persa.htm if you've seen her, IMed with her, E-mailed with her, anything lately or might know where she is please please contact her family.
Also, for those of you who know Persa or even those who don't, please post this information to your blog and ask others to do the same so that it can get out and she can know that we care and we want her to go back home. Thanks, and Persa, if you do read this, go home hon, they miss you.
Many of you know Persa, the awesome girl from FearlessZippy.com and a frequent reader of my blog. She's done the Blogathon for the last couple of years and everyone who knows her adores her. This is serious stuff, a couple days ago she went missing and her family needs help in finding out where she went.
More information on this can be found at this page http://www.zulas.com/persa.htm if you've seen her, IMed with her, E-mailed with her, anything lately or might know where she is please please contact her family.
Also, for those of you who know Persa or even those who don't, please post this information to your blog and ask others to do the same so that it can get out and she can know that we care and we want her to go back home. Thanks, and Persa, if you do read this, go home hon, they miss you.
11.20.2003
I haven't posted in ages, this means I should be flogged, however I ask that you save up your floggings till after November so that I'm not incapacitated by said beatings and rendered unable to write.
Good? Good.
I'm up to nearly 30k, I've been writing on a terribly old Laptop by Zenith. Yes, it scares me too, but it makes a very comforting heavy clacking noise when I push down on the keys. This is either helping me to write or entertaining me, possibly a combination of both. I'm easily entertained, so you never know.
Hopefully I get time to transfer it to this computer (I'm pretty sure I'll have to retype it all by hand, that should be fun) within the next couple of days so people can read what's going on. (or, find out what happens to the envelope, which amsuingly enough, will make a handful of you very angry with me.) I haven't done it sooner and I'm sorry, thanks to those of you who IM (or send e-mail, or call, or show up at my house in the middle of the night) and support me or bother me about the story and why I haven't posted. The encouragement is greatly appriciated, the dead mice and blood written letters are...eh...not so much.
Anyway, I'm off to write some more. I promise to update daily from now on, like a good little girl should.
Good? Good.
I'm up to nearly 30k, I've been writing on a terribly old Laptop by Zenith. Yes, it scares me too, but it makes a very comforting heavy clacking noise when I push down on the keys. This is either helping me to write or entertaining me, possibly a combination of both. I'm easily entertained, so you never know.
Hopefully I get time to transfer it to this computer (I'm pretty sure I'll have to retype it all by hand, that should be fun) within the next couple of days so people can read what's going on. (or, find out what happens to the envelope, which amsuingly enough, will make a handful of you very angry with me.) I haven't done it sooner and I'm sorry, thanks to those of you who IM (or send e-mail, or call, or show up at my house in the middle of the night) and support me or bother me about the story and why I haven't posted. The encouragement is greatly appriciated, the dead mice and blood written letters are...eh...not so much.
Anyway, I'm off to write some more. I promise to update daily from now on, like a good little girl should.
11.13.2003
11.10.2003
Rhea Rhyolin: Make me write, man
Saetan SaDiablo: ....
Saetan SaDiablo: write
Rhea Rhyolin: I made myself chocolate milk, as a bribe. "Self," says I "If I make you chocolate milk, you'll write three thousand glimmering words of perfection tonight"
Rhea Rhyolin: "Yes Self," I said "I will"
Rhea Rhyolin: So I did
Rhea Rhyolin: And I'm not
Saetan SaDiablo: lol
Rhea Rhyolin: and I'm so disappointed in me
Saetan SaDiablo: Bad girl.
Rhea Rhyolin: Yes!
Rhea Rhyolin: Now I'm just full of chocolate milk
Rhea Rhyolin: and still avoiding work!
Rhea Rhyolin: Perhaps I need more?
Rhea Rhyolin: Perhaps a second glass will motivate me?
Perhaps.
Saetan SaDiablo: ....
Saetan SaDiablo: write
Rhea Rhyolin: I made myself chocolate milk, as a bribe. "Self," says I "If I make you chocolate milk, you'll write three thousand glimmering words of perfection tonight"
Rhea Rhyolin: "Yes Self," I said "I will"
Rhea Rhyolin: So I did
Rhea Rhyolin: And I'm not
Saetan SaDiablo: lol
Rhea Rhyolin: and I'm so disappointed in me
Saetan SaDiablo: Bad girl.
Rhea Rhyolin: Yes!
Rhea Rhyolin: Now I'm just full of chocolate milk
Rhea Rhyolin: and still avoiding work!
Rhea Rhyolin: Perhaps I need more?
Rhea Rhyolin: Perhaps a second glass will motivate me?
Perhaps.
I've been writing, it's just been so sparse that I don't have enough to justify a chapter post. The guilt has gotten to me and I am writing right now, and there will be a chapter post by the end of this evening. Hopefully a long one, one that isn't as achingly mind numbing as the last.
Is anyone even reading this? If you are, you should leave me comments. Better yet, leave me presents.
Mmm...oh yes, presents will motivate me.
Is anyone even reading this? If you are, you should leave me comments. Better yet, leave me presents.
Mmm...oh yes, presents will motivate me.
11.07.2003
11.06.2003
Today is our scrumptious Prana's birthday, so in honor of Pran's birthday (Happy Birthday Dahling!) I will be taking a day off of writing to pay humbled homage to the wonderfulness that is my mentor and hero, Prana and reflect on how I too can be more like Prana.
I will also be hiding from said wonderfulness so she can't beat me for this post. If you need me, I'll be under the bed.
Happy Birthday Prana!
I will also be hiding from said wonderfulness so she can't beat me for this post. If you need me, I'll be under the bed.
11.05.2003
11.04.2003
Quick update. Chapter two is up, chapter three will be up tomorrow by evening at the latest. Remember, chapters aren't chapters, just what I've gotten done in a day.
Current word count, incase you're wondering, is just a smidge over 3000. Hopefully I can hit 6000 tomorrow and then work towards the 15000 I want by Saturday.
Until then, I'm heading off to go rot my brain in front of the T.V. and steal plot ideas from the shows.
Current word count, incase you're wondering, is just a smidge over 3000. Hopefully I can hit 6000 tomorrow and then work towards the 15000 I want by Saturday.
Until then, I'm heading off to go rot my brain in front of the T.V. and steal plot ideas from the shows.
Day four of NaNoWriMo, finally got IBOM back open to chronical my horridness. I'm still working on redoing the pages to match this years, since for those of you following my novel exploits you'll recongnize this layout from two NaNo's ago.
I'm lazy, what can I say. I apologize for the stinkyness of this layout, I just didn't really have the gumption to do anything more creative.
Anyway, it's all up, editing and putting up of what I've got so far of the 'novel' to follow.
I'm lazy, what can I say. I apologize for the stinkyness of this layout, I just didn't really have the gumption to do anything more creative.
Anyway, it's all up, editing and putting up of what I've got so far of the 'novel' to follow.
11.01.2003
NaNoWriMo has started once again, so this post will be short and to the point. Watch this space for cursing, small sample postings, word counts and pleas to have you tell me to quit because I write rubbish.
I've got a tiny heads up from last year because this year I've got most of the novel outlined, however, I'm not sure if that'll help.
Anyway, first goal? 1000 words by tonight. Let's see if we can do this, shall we?
I've got a tiny heads up from last year because this year I've got most of the novel outlined, however, I'm not sure if that'll help.
Anyway, first goal? 1000 words by tonight. Let's see if we can do this, shall we?
10.27.2003
I was in The Dollar Tree (I heart) the other day buying cheap and worthless items for the YCC Party the other day. Cheap and worthless because to a bunch of 2 to 12 year old kids the cost of the item doesn't matter, all that matters is that it tastes like refined white sugar and resembles severed parts. Oh, and if it makes noises that resemble human bodily functions, the more the better.
While I was there, I ran into (almost literally because she's nearly blind) my Great Aunt. I was holding the door open for all the people coming in and going out, like a polite girl should, when she walked by me. My Great Aunt is the type of person who reuses plastic wrap, feeds her guests ten year old frozen left overs, and goes to places like The Dollar Tree to buy off-brand German Chili for twenty cents a can. She also turns her hearing aid off whenever you talk to her.
Yeah, one of those relitives.
"Hi Darthee" I say, ever the nice tolerant neice, "How are you today?"
Yes, her name is Darthee. Spelt just like that. Don't ask me, I can't tell you.
She squinted at me for thirty seconds before saying, "And who is it I'm speaking to?" Which is exactly what I figured she'd say, after all, I'm the invisible one in the family.
"It's Jamie" I reply.
It's here where I am highly thinking of tracking down the services of a good clergy man and begging for forgiveness. Because, when she asked who I was, I, with horrible glee honestly debated the idea of telling her that I was Jesus, landing in the parking lot of the Keizer Dollar Tree on my sparkly white cloud, come to whisk her away from worldy sin, and take her home.
It was mean, and I apologize.
While I was there, I ran into (almost literally because she's nearly blind) my Great Aunt. I was holding the door open for all the people coming in and going out, like a polite girl should, when she walked by me. My Great Aunt is the type of person who reuses plastic wrap, feeds her guests ten year old frozen left overs, and goes to places like The Dollar Tree to buy off-brand German Chili for twenty cents a can. She also turns her hearing aid off whenever you talk to her.
Yeah, one of those relitives.
"Hi Darthee" I say, ever the nice tolerant neice, "How are you today?"
Yes, her name is Darthee. Spelt just like that. Don't ask me, I can't tell you.
She squinted at me for thirty seconds before saying, "And who is it I'm speaking to?" Which is exactly what I figured she'd say, after all, I'm the invisible one in the family.
"It's Jamie" I reply.
It's here where I am highly thinking of tracking down the services of a good clergy man and begging for forgiveness. Because, when she asked who I was, I, with horrible glee honestly debated the idea of telling her that I was Jesus, landing in the parking lot of the Keizer Dollar Tree on my sparkly white cloud, come to whisk her away from worldy sin, and take her home.
It was mean, and I apologize.
10.24.2003
10.17.2003
Stolen from Fred's journal, and then done because every now and then it's fun to revert back to Jr. High. `Corse, all people mentioned herein are people who read this journal, and since only my darling net met friends read it, only people mentioned are you! Aren't you special? Yep...you are. Now, you fill it out.
[My name is]: Jamie
[In the morning i am]: Quiet
[I dream about]: Novel ideas and a man who's face I can't see
-W I T H .T H E. O P P O S I T E. S E X-
[What do you notice first?]: A guys personality. You can tell right away if a guy is a good person or someone you just don't want to be around by the way he behaves. And hands...I like guys hands.
[Last person you slow danced with]: My ten year old brother.
-W H O-
[Do you have a crush on?]: You! Yep, that's right, I have a crush on you.
[Easiest to talk to]: Michael, Fred, Ally, Melissa, Robin, Kelly, James...um, everyone.
-H A V E .Y O U . E V E R-
[Fallen for your best friend]: Yeah. Every time I've ever fallen for a guy, he's been my best friend at the time. The whole friendship thing is important to me.
-W H O . W A S . T H E . L A S T . P E R S O N-
[You talked to on the phone]: Selene
[Hugged]: Lane
[You instant messaged]: Caleb
[You laughed with]: Fred
[Could you live without the computer?]: Yep, because I have everyone's phone numbers.
[What's your favorite food?]: Bocca burgers
[Whats your favorite fruit?]: Peaches
[What hurts the most? physical pain or emotional pain?]: Emotional. I have a seriously high physcial pain threshold, but I cry at dog food commercials.
[Trust others way too easily?]: Why shouldn't I?
-N U M B E R-
[Of times I have had my heart broken? ]: Oh a few
[Of hearts I have broken?] : I've made mistakes and hurt people, everyone does.
[Of boys I have kissed?] : Lots! Because I'm a total flooz!
[Of girls I have kissed?] : Define 'kissed'? Friendly? Greeting? Changing teams?
[Of drugs taken illegally?] : None. Wait, that's not true. I took someones Vicodin once because I was hospital bound and they take too long to get to you. Lock me up!
[Of tight friends?] : I adore all my friends, not only because they put up with me, but because they're themselves.
[Of cd's that i own?] : Slues, before the evil record companies got more evil, now I only buy independent bands CDs.
[Of scars on my body?] : Four. Left hand where I split my palm open with a butcher knife. Right knee where I sliced it open on construction cable. Right big toe where I sliced it open on brick. Forehead, from chicken pox.
[Of things in my past that i regret?]: Nothing. I handled situations to the best of my ability at the time, and that's good enough for me.
-O T H E R . T H I N G S-
[I know]: things. About you. Lots of dirty, dirty things.
[I want]: to really believe that 'I am fully equipped for the divine plan of my life' like the card says.
[I have]: everything I need.
[I wish]: I was comfortable financially. - You and me both brother!
[I hate]: nothing.
[I miss]: certain people. Sometimes.
[I fear]: that I'm not smart enough, or good enough.
[I hear]: the ever so sexy Perry Mason.
[I search]: for the perfect taco salad.
[I love]: where I am.
[I ache]: noplace.
[I care]: for everybody.
[I always]: want it better for you, because you deserve it.
[I dance]: like a chicken.
[I cry]: because it's good for me.
[I do not always]: believe in myself.
[I write]: because if I don't practice, I'll never dethrone Stephen.
[I confuse]: myself, more often then not.
[I can usually be found]: being me.
[I need]: scary, sin invoking material things. A car, better money, an ice cream cake for my birthday. Maybe someone who loves me, that would be nice.
[Have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing]: Ha!
[If so, when and with who]: Hmm..
[Favorite place to be kissed?]: Wrist. Why did I blush typing that?
[Have you ever been caught "doing something"]: Ha!
- A R E . Y O U . A . . . -
[Wuss]: When it comes down to the grit, no.
[Druggie]: No.
[Gang member]: No.
[Daydreamer]: It's a curse.
[Alcoholic]: No.
[Freak]: Yep.
[Brat]: In a good way.
[Sarcastic]: Yes, but it's tasteful!
[Goody-goody]: According to Fred 'Kind of...yeah.'
[Angel]: Yes! And you can't prove different!
[Devil]: Sometimes all you need is a little naughty.
[Friend]: Till the end, like a good Care Bear should.
[Shy]: More quiet then shy.
[Talkative]: Once someone pulls my test tab, I don't shut up.
[Adventurous]: I love adventure. I once got someone lost in downtown San Francisco purely for the adventure. She, however, did not find it as exciting as I did.
[Intelligent]: I try hard.
- C O N C E R N I N G . T H E . F R I E N D S . Y O U . C L A I M . T O . H A V E . -
[Impacted you the most spiritually]: Ally
[Wish you saw more often]: Ally
[Wish you could meet]: All of them!
[Most sarcastic]: Fred, but Caleb pulls a close second
[Wish you knew better]: Ben
[Knows you best]: Ally, Fred
[Best outlook on life]: Michael
[Most paranoid]: Fred
[Sweetest]: Kelly
- S E L F . A N A L Y S I S . Y O U . P R O B A B L Y . D O N ' T . W A NT . T O . D O -
[Your best feature [personality]: I try really hard to be understanding of everyone, no matter what is going on.
[Your biggest flaw [personality]: I don't do good enough.
[Most annoying thing you do]: Apologize. I'm sorry about that.
[Biggest mistake you've made this far]: Never mistakes, just learning experiences.
[Describe your personality in one word]: Dorky.
[The physical feature for which you are most often complimented]: My hair.
[Height]: 6'2"
[A smell that makes you smile]: Rain
[A city you'd like to visit]: Paris
[A drink you order most often]: Dr. Pepper
[A delicious dessert]: Peach pie
[A book you highly recommend]: Any book. Reading is good for you.
[The music you prefer while alone]: Opera
[Your favorite band]: I don't have a favorite band. I like lots of bands.
[A film you could watch over and over]: Alice in Wonderland. It's a film, it is!
[A TV show you watch regularly]: Dead Like Me
[You live in a]: Triplex. In the middle one. Two bedrooms, a garage, a whole backyard to myself because my neighbors don't use it. I like it.
[Your transportation]: Bumming rides because I'm car-less.
[Your cologne or perfume]: None, but I do use orange cream hand lotion because it smells like heaven. I'd eat it, but it doesn't taste as good as it smells.
[Under your bed or in your closet you hide]: Boxes of stuff I haven't unpacked after almost four years.
[Something important on your night table]: My paper journal
[My name is]: Jamie
[In the morning i am]: Quiet
[I dream about]: Novel ideas and a man who's face I can't see
-W I T H .T H E. O P P O S I T E. S E X-
[What do you notice first?]: A guys personality. You can tell right away if a guy is a good person or someone you just don't want to be around by the way he behaves. And hands...I like guys hands.
[Last person you slow danced with]: My ten year old brother.
-W H O-
[Do you have a crush on?]: You! Yep, that's right, I have a crush on you.
[Easiest to talk to]: Michael, Fred, Ally, Melissa, Robin, Kelly, James...um, everyone.
-H A V E .Y O U . E V E R-
[Fallen for your best friend]: Yeah. Every time I've ever fallen for a guy, he's been my best friend at the time. The whole friendship thing is important to me.
-W H O . W A S . T H E . L A S T . P E R S O N-
[You talked to on the phone]: Selene
[Hugged]: Lane
[You instant messaged]: Caleb
[You laughed with]: Fred
[Could you live without the computer?]: Yep, because I have everyone's phone numbers.
[What's your favorite food?]: Bocca burgers
[Whats your favorite fruit?]: Peaches
[What hurts the most? physical pain or emotional pain?]: Emotional. I have a seriously high physcial pain threshold, but I cry at dog food commercials.
[Trust others way too easily?]: Why shouldn't I?
-N U M B E R-
[Of times I have had my heart broken? ]: Oh a few
[Of hearts I have broken?] : I've made mistakes and hurt people, everyone does.
[Of boys I have kissed?] : Lots! Because I'm a total flooz!
[Of girls I have kissed?] : Define 'kissed'? Friendly? Greeting? Changing teams?
[Of drugs taken illegally?] : None. Wait, that's not true. I took someones Vicodin once because I was hospital bound and they take too long to get to you. Lock me up!
[Of tight friends?] : I adore all my friends, not only because they put up with me, but because they're themselves.
[Of cd's that i own?] : Slues, before the evil record companies got more evil, now I only buy independent bands CDs.
[Of scars on my body?] : Four. Left hand where I split my palm open with a butcher knife. Right knee where I sliced it open on construction cable. Right big toe where I sliced it open on brick. Forehead, from chicken pox.
[Of things in my past that i regret?]: Nothing. I handled situations to the best of my ability at the time, and that's good enough for me.
-O T H E R . T H I N G S-
[I know]: things. About you. Lots of dirty, dirty things.
[I want]: to really believe that 'I am fully equipped for the divine plan of my life' like the card says.
[I have]: everything I need.
[I wish]: I was comfortable financially. - You and me both brother!
[I hate]: nothing.
[I miss]: certain people. Sometimes.
[I fear]: that I'm not smart enough, or good enough.
[I hear]: the ever so sexy Perry Mason.
[I search]: for the perfect taco salad.
[I love]: where I am.
[I ache]: noplace.
[I care]: for everybody.
[I always]: want it better for you, because you deserve it.
[I dance]: like a chicken.
[I cry]: because it's good for me.
[I do not always]: believe in myself.
[I write]: because if I don't practice, I'll never dethrone Stephen.
[I confuse]: myself, more often then not.
[I can usually be found]: being me.
[I need]: scary, sin invoking material things. A car, better money, an ice cream cake for my birthday. Maybe someone who loves me, that would be nice.
[Have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing]: Ha!
[If so, when and with who]: Hmm..
[Favorite place to be kissed?]: Wrist. Why did I blush typing that?
[Have you ever been caught "doing something"]: Ha!
- A R E . Y O U . A . . . -
[Wuss]: When it comes down to the grit, no.
[Druggie]: No.
[Gang member]: No.
[Daydreamer]: It's a curse.
[Alcoholic]: No.
[Freak]: Yep.
[Brat]: In a good way.
[Sarcastic]: Yes, but it's tasteful!
[Goody-goody]: According to Fred 'Kind of...yeah.'
[Angel]: Yes! And you can't prove different!
[Devil]: Sometimes all you need is a little naughty.
[Friend]: Till the end, like a good Care Bear should.
[Shy]: More quiet then shy.
[Talkative]: Once someone pulls my test tab, I don't shut up.
[Adventurous]: I love adventure. I once got someone lost in downtown San Francisco purely for the adventure. She, however, did not find it as exciting as I did.
[Intelligent]: I try hard.
- C O N C E R N I N G . T H E . F R I E N D S . Y O U . C L A I M . T O . H A V E . -
[Impacted you the most spiritually]: Ally
[Wish you saw more often]: Ally
[Wish you could meet]: All of them!
[Most sarcastic]: Fred, but Caleb pulls a close second
[Wish you knew better]: Ben
[Knows you best]: Ally, Fred
[Best outlook on life]: Michael
[Most paranoid]: Fred
[Sweetest]: Kelly
- S E L F . A N A L Y S I S . Y O U . P R O B A B L Y . D O N ' T . W A NT . T O . D O -
[Your best feature [personality]: I try really hard to be understanding of everyone, no matter what is going on.
[Your biggest flaw [personality]: I don't do good enough.
[Most annoying thing you do]: Apologize. I'm sorry about that.
[Biggest mistake you've made this far]: Never mistakes, just learning experiences.
[Describe your personality in one word]: Dorky.
[The physical feature for which you are most often complimented]: My hair.
[Height]: 6'2"
[A smell that makes you smile]: Rain
[A city you'd like to visit]: Paris
[A drink you order most often]: Dr. Pepper
[A delicious dessert]: Peach pie
[A book you highly recommend]: Any book. Reading is good for you.
[The music you prefer while alone]: Opera
[Your favorite band]: I don't have a favorite band. I like lots of bands.
[A film you could watch over and over]: Alice in Wonderland. It's a film, it is!
[A TV show you watch regularly]: Dead Like Me
[You live in a]: Triplex. In the middle one. Two bedrooms, a garage, a whole backyard to myself because my neighbors don't use it. I like it.
[Your transportation]: Bumming rides because I'm car-less.
[Your cologne or perfume]: None, but I do use orange cream hand lotion because it smells like heaven. I'd eat it, but it doesn't taste as good as it smells.
[Under your bed or in your closet you hide]: Boxes of stuff I haven't unpacked after almost four years.
[Something important on your night table]: My paper journal
10.13.2003
Had a fundraiser for my YCC yesterday. It was an ice cream social, we turned the classroom into an ice cream parlor complete with wait to be seated signs and waiters and waitresses. The kids did an amazing job with taking orders and delvering orders, they even handled all the billing (done at the patrons table, of course) it went really great.
We served about seven different ice cream dishes (including these monster ice cream cookie sandwiches which nobody could finish..lol), and with only two of us in the 'kitchen' (the back half of the room where it's screened off) it was totally hectic. I also only ate a banana split yesterday so I was completely sick. I should have known better but it was sooooo nummy.
Unfortunatly, after expenses (because I was too wimpy to set the prices any higher) we only made $34.00 which wasn't as good as I needed it to be at all. So I'm going to put out a donation container and plan another fundraiser for January. I do hope that the small amount of money I made combined with the money I get at the first of the month as payment (I always put it right back in the class) it will cover the next couple months worth of activities until I can do another funraiser.
Next weeks class? Pumkins. Pumkin pie, pumkin seeds, pumpkin punch, carving and painting pumpkins. In the Salem area and have kids? Drop them on by the H.O.M.E Center next Sunday starting at 11:00. We're upstairs in the EASL/YCC room. It's an hour long, it's fun, it's free, and we'd love to see them.
Also next week we will be voting on our spring YCC feild trip and sending off information about our fall feild trip and Harvest Party which is at the end of the month.
We served about seven different ice cream dishes (including these monster ice cream cookie sandwiches which nobody could finish..lol), and with only two of us in the 'kitchen' (the back half of the room where it's screened off) it was totally hectic. I also only ate a banana split yesterday so I was completely sick. I should have known better but it was sooooo nummy.
Unfortunatly, after expenses (because I was too wimpy to set the prices any higher) we only made $34.00 which wasn't as good as I needed it to be at all. So I'm going to put out a donation container and plan another fundraiser for January. I do hope that the small amount of money I made combined with the money I get at the first of the month as payment (I always put it right back in the class) it will cover the next couple months worth of activities until I can do another funraiser.
Next weeks class? Pumkins. Pumkin pie, pumkin seeds, pumpkin punch, carving and painting pumpkins. In the Salem area and have kids? Drop them on by the H.O.M.E Center next Sunday starting at 11:00. We're upstairs in the EASL/YCC room. It's an hour long, it's fun, it's free, and we'd love to see them.
Also next week we will be voting on our spring YCC feild trip and sending off information about our fall feild trip and Harvest Party which is at the end of the month.
10.09.2003
After months of waiting for each episode, and cheering for the characters and being really freaked about being left hanging by the Fansubbers (I heart!) Scrapped Princess finally ended.
It was perfect.
It was perfect.
10.02.2003
Today a tiny factoid dawned on me a great bit thwack upside my already addled little head while I was in the middle of a conversation that had nothing to do with it (this just goes to show how absolutely spaztic I really am).
I've lived in my place for four years.
I've HAD my place for five years this next June, I've only lived there for four. It's a long story that involves lots of laziness and unwilling foreign bathroom fixtures.
Anyway, as I sitting in sort of a shocked shockness I baffled over how fast time goes by, how really little time people have and how important it is to me to accomplish everything I want. I also realized something else that completely soured my mood and is almost as sad and pathetic as not living in my apartment but still paying rent for almost five months.
I still haven't unpacked all my crap.
I've lived in my place for four years.
I've HAD my place for five years this next June, I've only lived there for four. It's a long story that involves lots of laziness and unwilling foreign bathroom fixtures.
Anyway, as I sitting in sort of a shocked shockness I baffled over how fast time goes by, how really little time people have and how important it is to me to accomplish everything I want. I also realized something else that completely soured my mood and is almost as sad and pathetic as not living in my apartment but still paying rent for almost five months.
I still haven't unpacked all my crap.
9.30.2003
I love fall. Not for the changing colors, or the crispness of the air. Not for the back to school sales where in you can buy darling shoes and a matching handbag for less then got for selling your sisters used retainer on E-bay. No, I love fall because it is the only time of year you can get large quanities of candy corn without having to pay two bucks per ounce.
Mm. Candy Corn, how I love thee.
Mm. Candy Corn, how I love thee.
9.16.2003
Being bored, I decided to amuse myself by seeing what was brought up when using 'Brighterskyte' in a search. Among the things brought up (every single one in referance to me. I'd grow an ego, if I could just get up the energy.) was the Googlisim on 'Skyte'.
My favorite? "Skyte is in for a serious beating in the near future"
Promises, promises.
My favorite? "Skyte is in for a serious beating in the near future"
Promises, promises.
9.15.2003
I admit that I am one of those people who isn't lazy in the sense that they don't do anything, but I'm lazy because I do far too much and my other projects sometimes get kicked into the dusty corner of shame for a period of time. I don't abandon them forever. I come back sooner or later, dust them off, give them a kiss and keep on truckin', but some things just get neglected and then I have to beg for forgiveness. This ritual is not pretty, and does nothing for my self-esteem.
I haven't done a layout (and thus, this post is not being read by anyone but me, and the stalker who's figured out my password so he could read my posts that aren't getting posted) and I feel badly about this. Not because nobody gets to read my asinine thoughts, but because I enjoy my blog and feel it deserves more then the Kick.
I haven't made a new layout because between working, and planning events, and all the other things going on, I just haven't been able to staple my eyelids open long enough to get past the guilt that is injected into my brain whenever I work on something that is purely mine. Stupid, but sadly true. Topping it all off? I have no idea what I want here.
I want something good, something unique, something that will make me feel like I've got some kind of semi-decent skills insted of feeling like I'm some mutated cartoon character pounding away at the keyboard with my four huge white sausage fingers.
Maybe something autumny.
I haven't done a layout (and thus, this post is not being read by anyone but me, and the stalker who's figured out my password so he could read my posts that aren't getting posted) and I feel badly about this. Not because nobody gets to read my asinine thoughts, but because I enjoy my blog and feel it deserves more then the Kick.
I haven't made a new layout because between working, and planning events, and all the other things going on, I just haven't been able to staple my eyelids open long enough to get past the guilt that is injected into my brain whenever I work on something that is purely mine. Stupid, but sadly true. Topping it all off? I have no idea what I want here.
I want something good, something unique, something that will make me feel like I've got some kind of semi-decent skills insted of feeling like I'm some mutated cartoon character pounding away at the keyboard with my four huge white sausage fingers.
Maybe something autumny.
9.13.2003
Finally! After years of getting the run around and turned down I managed to swindle a Pell Grant out of the college, and I didn't even have to sleep with anyone. I managed to land a pretty decent hunk of money for Spring Term. This gives me a little under five months to find a car and figure out how I'm going to swing everything I do every day and going to school full time since I have to go full time to keep the grant.
This should be fun.
I'm going back to schoooool, I'm going back to schoooool. Everybody do the happy shuffle with me now! Shuffle...shuffle...shuffle...
shuffle.
This should be fun.
I'm going back to schoooool, I'm going back to schoooool. Everybody do the happy shuffle with me now! Shuffle...shuffle...shuffle...
shuffle.
9.10.2003
To the sweet older gentleman who had the heart attack while waiting in the Doctors office and had to be taken away by the ambulance, and his wife who was very worried. I hope everything works out for the best for you, and that you feel better soon sir!
To the mechanic who sliced his finger to the bone working on a rental car and needed eight stitches. Please forgive me for not telling you they called you but you didn't hear them because you were in the other room and on the phone yelling at someone. I feel guilty. I was torn. I am extremely sorry, and I do hope that they fixed your finger.
Thank you, that is all.
To the mechanic who sliced his finger to the bone working on a rental car and needed eight stitches. Please forgive me for not telling you they called you but you didn't hear them because you were in the other room and on the phone yelling at someone. I feel guilty. I was torn. I am extremely sorry, and I do hope that they fixed your finger.
Thank you, that is all.
9.02.2003
Today is officially Summers final wheezing last stand for me. It is both sad, and wonderful.
Hurray for fall! Hurray for back to school! Hurray for rain! Hurray for longer hours of darkness in which sleeping in like a bag of lazy flesh is almost justified! All of this of course also means I'll have to do my morning mile in the dark, cold and wet.
Oh well, I guess no matter what the season, you just can't win them all.
Hurray for fall! Hurray for back to school! Hurray for rain! Hurray for longer hours of darkness in which sleeping in like a bag of lazy flesh is almost justified! All of this of course also means I'll have to do my morning mile in the dark, cold and wet.
Oh well, I guess no matter what the season, you just can't win them all.
8.28.2003
"Hey, spare me some change." He said, a foot away from them, waving his sign in their faces. His body language spelling out how he deseved all the loose silver in their purses and he deserved it right now. Maybe the copper too.
It was a pretty typical afternoon walking across the strip mall parking lot. Upper 80's, sun was shining, and the obligitory homeless man was accosting customers on the sidewalk. Shabby clothes, cardboard sign, sporting brand new nikes on his supposedly weary feet.
And they ignored him.
"You've got your whole lives ahead of you, you fat cows!" The three girls just sidesteped him and walked on. He walked on as well, in the other direction. One of those huffy angry walks, where you walk far fast and the red dosen't always let you see where you are going. Turning and twisting all the while to shake your fist at the object that made you so very livid. He turned completely around just as we stepped on to the sidewalk.
"Someday you could be in my situation! Homeless!" He screamed, his face red and his arms making wild, innapropriate gestures in the general direction of receeding backs. "Someday you'll be homeless just like me and that will teach you. Fucking bitch cunts." Still screaming at people who were long gone about how he deserved it, and muttering to everyone, and maybe even God, just how egocentric the people who had it all truly are, he turned and stormed down the sidewalk.
Pushing the door to the sporting goods store open I couldn't help but comment. "Nothing invokes a sense of charity in a person like a mouth full of slander."
It was a pretty typical afternoon walking across the strip mall parking lot. Upper 80's, sun was shining, and the obligitory homeless man was accosting customers on the sidewalk. Shabby clothes, cardboard sign, sporting brand new nikes on his supposedly weary feet.
And they ignored him.
"You've got your whole lives ahead of you, you fat cows!" The three girls just sidesteped him and walked on. He walked on as well, in the other direction. One of those huffy angry walks, where you walk far fast and the red dosen't always let you see where you are going. Turning and twisting all the while to shake your fist at the object that made you so very livid. He turned completely around just as we stepped on to the sidewalk.
"Someday you could be in my situation! Homeless!" He screamed, his face red and his arms making wild, innapropriate gestures in the general direction of receeding backs. "Someday you'll be homeless just like me and that will teach you. Fucking bitch cunts." Still screaming at people who were long gone about how he deserved it, and muttering to everyone, and maybe even God, just how egocentric the people who had it all truly are, he turned and stormed down the sidewalk.
Pushing the door to the sporting goods store open I couldn't help but comment. "Nothing invokes a sense of charity in a person like a mouth full of slander."
I conciter myself a decent person. I can empathize with people who are in bad situations and I have no second thoughts or tiny voices asking me what in the world I think doing when I help them out. I don't ask what I'll get from it, it's just instinct. I like to help people, I like doing things for people. I don't do this to validate anything deep seeded nurosis or as a pathetic plea for friendship and I get highly offended when that is eluded to me. I enjoy it, and it is who I am, and if someone dosen't like that, then they don't like me being myself, and that isn't my problem.
I've worked hard on developing myself into what I think is a good person, a strong, well rounded, decent person who enjoys who she is and what she does. I don't feel I have to apologize, make exscuses, or explain myself to anyone about anything I do. I've still got weird things I'm working through, like letting people make me feel like I'm not good enough, or feeling like I have to apologize for every time someone else takes something wrong. I don't, I don't think anyone elses thoughts, I don't threaten their lives or leech on to them with my amazing psychic powers to force them to react the way they do, and I'm not responsible for how they take things in situations. I know I handle every situation to the very best of my abilities, and that's all I can do. If someone dosen't like that, well, that's just too bad for them. Maybe they need to work on their ability to handle situations, insted of questioning mine.
I still worry too much about hurting peoples feelings by speaking up for myself, which leads to me taking alot of oozing worthless verbal vomit off people because I still believe on alot of levels that letting them rip me apart with steely words is akin to respecting their opinion. That because they're my friends, and I respect them as people, that what they have to say is important enough for me to ignore the fact that it's innapropriate, cruel, or in most cases, wrong. I just let them have their say and change the subject, I don't take it to heart, because nobody knows me better then I know myself, and I don't lie to myself about how I am and what problems I do and don't have. I also don't defend myself when I'm attacked, and that in itself is almost as bad as lying to myself would be. Thus, I have a deilema.
Do you defend your own honor at the risk of potentally hurting a friend, which is breaking a cardnal rule in itself, or do you forsake yourself for someone elses opinion, just because they're a friend?
Of course, if they were really friends in the first place, they wouldn't be doing these things. That's always a good point.
I've worked hard on developing myself into what I think is a good person, a strong, well rounded, decent person who enjoys who she is and what she does. I don't feel I have to apologize, make exscuses, or explain myself to anyone about anything I do. I've still got weird things I'm working through, like letting people make me feel like I'm not good enough, or feeling like I have to apologize for every time someone else takes something wrong. I don't, I don't think anyone elses thoughts, I don't threaten their lives or leech on to them with my amazing psychic powers to force them to react the way they do, and I'm not responsible for how they take things in situations. I know I handle every situation to the very best of my abilities, and that's all I can do. If someone dosen't like that, well, that's just too bad for them. Maybe they need to work on their ability to handle situations, insted of questioning mine.
I still worry too much about hurting peoples feelings by speaking up for myself, which leads to me taking alot of oozing worthless verbal vomit off people because I still believe on alot of levels that letting them rip me apart with steely words is akin to respecting their opinion. That because they're my friends, and I respect them as people, that what they have to say is important enough for me to ignore the fact that it's innapropriate, cruel, or in most cases, wrong. I just let them have their say and change the subject, I don't take it to heart, because nobody knows me better then I know myself, and I don't lie to myself about how I am and what problems I do and don't have. I also don't defend myself when I'm attacked, and that in itself is almost as bad as lying to myself would be. Thus, I have a deilema.
Do you defend your own honor at the risk of potentally hurting a friend, which is breaking a cardnal rule in itself, or do you forsake yourself for someone elses opinion, just because they're a friend?
Of course, if they were really friends in the first place, they wouldn't be doing these things. That's always a good point.
8.20.2003
What's the proper Elizabethan torture to implement for a neighbor that points a sprinklers stream directly into your open bedroom window for roughly five hours thus soaking everything inside your room to the core, including electronics and your matress? While we're at it, what is also the correct form of agony to mortally wound a health insurance company that says you have 'till the 20th of the month to pay your premium and you pay it over a week before it's due and they cut you off anyway four days before your payment deadline?
Thumb screws? Boiled? Iron Maidens? Presses? Hot pokers to gouge out their eyes while giggling with horrific glee?
Just curious.
Thumb screws? Boiled? Iron Maidens? Presses? Hot pokers to gouge out their eyes while giggling with horrific glee?
Just curious.
8.09.2003
Rhea Rhyolin: I posted about my latest evil deed as a sister
SaetanSadiablo: Which was?
Rhea Rhyolin: Scaring the crap out of my brother by giving him a family heirloom ring to give to his girlfriend as an engagment ring. He keeps bringing up marrage to me on the sly, all casual like, no big deal right? But he hasn't given her a ring. He about had a heart attack when I told him I was giving it to him today on the phone...he was like "WHY??!?!?!" I could feel the male race cringing in horror. It was amusing. Then I told him because he needed to give her a ring (what kind of freaking boyfriend was he anyway?) and then he was all 'Yeah yeah, bring it over she'll be soooo shocked, and blah blah blah' so I packed it up in a velvet ring box and took it over. The man better give it to her in a nice way, or I'll shoot him.
Rhea Rhyolin: Hence, I am an evil sister! He never would have done it himself, I know my brother
SaetanSadiablo: lol.
SaetanSadiablo: That is evil.
Rhea Rhyolin: I know...I'm so happy!
Rhea Rhyolin: lol....I don't get to do evil often
SaetanSadiablo: I bet you are.
SaetanSadiablo: Which was?
Rhea Rhyolin: Scaring the crap out of my brother by giving him a family heirloom ring to give to his girlfriend as an engagment ring. He keeps bringing up marrage to me on the sly, all casual like, no big deal right? But he hasn't given her a ring. He about had a heart attack when I told him I was giving it to him today on the phone...he was like "WHY??!?!?!" I could feel the male race cringing in horror. It was amusing. Then I told him because he needed to give her a ring (what kind of freaking boyfriend was he anyway?) and then he was all 'Yeah yeah, bring it over she'll be soooo shocked, and blah blah blah' so I packed it up in a velvet ring box and took it over. The man better give it to her in a nice way, or I'll shoot him.
Rhea Rhyolin: Hence, I am an evil sister! He never would have done it himself, I know my brother
SaetanSadiablo: lol.
SaetanSadiablo: That is evil.
Rhea Rhyolin: I know...I'm so happy!
Rhea Rhyolin: lol....I don't get to do evil often
SaetanSadiablo: I bet you are.
7.28.2003
She's not really here, it just looks like she is. What you're seeing is actually just a cardboard cutout that's been crudely scribbled on with a Sharpie to imitate Skyte's likeness. If you look closely, you'll see the smelly marker hair and the squiggle mouth are actually more attractive then the real Skyte.
I'm actually Skye's Evil Twin, Mr. Kumquat. Normally you only see me hanging around the smelly TPC basement (and when I manage to escape my lock-clad clubhouse basement room, the Forums) but today I managed to wheedle permission out of that good for nothing waste of skin Prana that dosen't let me have any fun, and she begrudgingly let me have the computer to post for Skyte. Skyte managed to get a bunch of sleep yesterday and now she's back at work slaving like a good girl. Oh alas, poor pathetic Skyte. :( Let's feel sorry for her while we snicker behind her back, shall we?
I just wanted to let everyone know that you can STILL sponsor Skyte (although I, myself wouldn't know why you would want to) until 6 AM tomorrow morning. So if you've got a couple extra bucks laying around, go on over and pledge it to a good cause would ya? It's damn better then what you were going to spend it on anyway. Kids these days. Why not forgo her and give me your money? Better yet, tell those damn girls to let me out of the Basement more often.
Also, prize announcements will be posted here tomorrow at noon. Winners will also be notified by E-mail. I've seen the prizes, and I wouldn't bother, but hey, if you want crap...by all means.
IBOM will be on hiatus for a tiny bit longer then Skyte thought because of what she called 'new and fun changes that have needed to happen for quite a while around here'. Never fear however, I'm sure she will be back being her disgustingly annoying self in no time. Oh, how I just can't wait.
-- Mr. Kumquat, Skyte's Evil Twin (Posting for Skyte because she's such a lazy twerp)
I'm actually Skye's Evil Twin, Mr. Kumquat. Normally you only see me hanging around the smelly TPC basement (and when I manage to escape my lock-clad clubhouse basement room, the Forums) but today I managed to wheedle permission out of that good for nothing waste of skin Prana that dosen't let me have any fun, and she begrudgingly let me have the computer to post for Skyte. Skyte managed to get a bunch of sleep yesterday and now she's back at work slaving like a good girl. Oh alas, poor pathetic Skyte. :( Let's feel sorry for her while we snicker behind her back, shall we?
I just wanted to let everyone know that you can STILL sponsor Skyte (although I, myself wouldn't know why you would want to) until 6 AM tomorrow morning. So if you've got a couple extra bucks laying around, go on over and pledge it to a good cause would ya? It's damn better then what you were going to spend it on anyway. Kids these days. Why not forgo her and give me your money? Better yet, tell those damn girls to let me out of the Basement more often.
Also, prize announcements will be posted here tomorrow at noon. Winners will also be notified by E-mail. I've seen the prizes, and I wouldn't bother, but hey, if you want crap...by all means.
IBOM will be on hiatus for a tiny bit longer then Skyte thought because of what she called 'new and fun changes that have needed to happen for quite a while around here'. Never fear however, I'm sure she will be back being her disgustingly annoying self in no time. Oh, how I just can't wait.
-- Mr. Kumquat, Skyte's Evil Twin (Posting for Skyte because she's such a lazy twerp)
7.27.2003
Well boys and girls, dawn has decided to finally show itself and all good little spooks and spirits are in bed for the day, so that concludes our little trip into the Paranormal during this years Blogathon. I've been your host, Skyte, for this lovely trip and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Please make sure to keep hands and feet inside the ride until the tram has come to a complete stop. Trashbins are located near each exit, so please remember to recycle. Visit the gift shop on your way out, to purchase some fabulous merchandise.
Thanks much to the people who kept me company during this whole thing, James, Kelly, Fred (You poop), Michael and everyone else, like Pranie, Jackie and Kim who popped in and out to check on me. Thanks also to my lovely sponsors whom if hadn't sponsored me I wouldn't be here typing incoherent garbage at you now. Thank you sponsors! We love you sponsors, and the ghosties love you too. Also, thank you to those of you who sent in questions, photos, stories and other fun things. You absolutely made posting go tons faster.
Once again I apologize for not being able to do this from the graveyard, but I hope you enjoyed yourself regardless.
Big grats to all the other bloggers who made it, I'll deffinatly be circling the ring as soon as my hate of this computer chair goes away. It might sound bonkers, but it is always so sad when this is all done. I absolutely can't wait until next year. Corse...now that the `Thon is done we can all prep for NaNoWriMo! MUHAHAha...ha....er...sorry.
Winners of the prizes will be announced here in 48 hours as well as getting a notice in their E-mail.
That's it, we're done. Finished. Kaput. Fin. Outta here. I'm headed off to take a nap before I have to go teach a class. I'll be on a short hiatus for the next couple days, so until I come back you take care, ya hear?
Thanks much to the people who kept me company during this whole thing, James, Kelly, Fred (You poop), Michael and everyone else, like Pranie, Jackie and Kim who popped in and out to check on me. Thanks also to my lovely sponsors whom if hadn't sponsored me I wouldn't be here typing incoherent garbage at you now. Thank you sponsors! We love you sponsors, and the ghosties love you too. Also, thank you to those of you who sent in questions, photos, stories and other fun things. You absolutely made posting go tons faster.
Once again I apologize for not being able to do this from the graveyard, but I hope you enjoyed yourself regardless.
Big grats to all the other bloggers who made it, I'll deffinatly be circling the ring as soon as my hate of this computer chair goes away. It might sound bonkers, but it is always so sad when this is all done. I absolutely can't wait until next year. Corse...now that the `Thon is done we can all prep for NaNoWriMo! MUHAHAha...ha....er...sorry.
Winners of the prizes will be announced here in 48 hours as well as getting a notice in their E-mail.
That's it, we're done. Finished. Kaput. Fin. Outta here. I'm headed off to take a nap before I have to go teach a class. I'll be on a short hiatus for the next couple days, so until I come back you take care, ya hear?
One last ghost story to give you something to do as the Blogathon slowly draws to a close.
Don't forget! Sign up to win a prize, if you don't sign up before 6 AM PST (when the thon ends) then you can't win.
One more post after this one boys and girls, just one more post.
-----
From: nldd@msg.ti.com (LeAnne)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Our ghost - TRUE STORIES
Date: 11 Sep 1995 19:51:03 GMT
(c) 1995 Leanne Davis
My family moved last October into a Queen Anne victorian house that was built in 1894. The previous owners swore there were no violent deaths in the house (required by Texas law to divulge that info these days!) Actually, they claimed there were no ghosts that they were aware of either.
Two days after we put the Christmas tree up in the foyer, it was knocked over while my husband & I were at work & our son was at school. We lost all of our antique glass Christmas ornaments that were on the tree, many were family heirlooms. We were lucky the tree didn't fall when the space heater across the room was lit. I guess she didn't like where we put the tree & she didn't want her house to accidentally burn down. I just wish she'd made herself clear the day before I put all the ornaments on the tree. Yes, we think our ghost is female, and I'm still upset about my ornaments.
Very frequently last winter, I would smell apple pies baking, you know the strong smell of cloves & cinnamon - I haven't even had any cloves in the house yet & I haven't baked an apple pie in 4 or 5 years.
A couple of days later, we had an open house & the wife of one of the guys my husband works with swore we had more than one spirit in the house. There are photos of the people who built the house, hanging in the stairwell. Someone made the comment at the open house that she (the wife) was homely. So my husband spouted off also saying that she was ugly & that she had no right to knock our tree over & break the ornaments.
Not long after that, my husband was taking a bath in the upstairs bathroom (he's too tall for the claw foot tub downstairs). Anyway, he heard the door to the bathroom opening while he was soaking. His thought it was our son messing with him, so he hollered him. Our son was not upstairs, he was not even in the house. And, then my husband heard the bathroom door close and footsteps running down the hallway.
Then, one day they were watching TV and the dog (a cocker spaniel) went nuts barking. My husband followed her into our bedroom. The bedroom door (which normally tends to open & stay open - has to be pulled tight to latch as a rule) slammed shut and the dog lay down & hid her face with her paws & whimpered.
One of our pictures from Christmas morning shows a light blob where no light was present in the room in the pre-dawn (you know how kids get you up early to open presents.)
My husband apologized for calling the lady "ugly". And the "incidents" have stopped except for the apple pie smells (which we don't mind cause it smells good) and the dog barking at nothing we can see. We won't put the Christmas tree in the same spot this year - it will go in the cupola instead.
It's been interesting. We're hoping to do some more research on the house. I just found out recently it was empty for 25 years. The previous owners had it for 30. And the ones before that for about 6 years. We're the fourth family.
Don't forget! Sign up to win a prize, if you don't sign up before 6 AM PST (when the thon ends) then you can't win.
One more post after this one boys and girls, just one more post.
-----
From: nldd@msg.ti.com (LeAnne)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Our ghost - TRUE STORIES
Date: 11 Sep 1995 19:51:03 GMT
(c) 1995 Leanne Davis
My family moved last October into a Queen Anne victorian house that was built in 1894. The previous owners swore there were no violent deaths in the house (required by Texas law to divulge that info these days!) Actually, they claimed there were no ghosts that they were aware of either.
Two days after we put the Christmas tree up in the foyer, it was knocked over while my husband & I were at work & our son was at school. We lost all of our antique glass Christmas ornaments that were on the tree, many were family heirlooms. We were lucky the tree didn't fall when the space heater across the room was lit. I guess she didn't like where we put the tree & she didn't want her house to accidentally burn down. I just wish she'd made herself clear the day before I put all the ornaments on the tree. Yes, we think our ghost is female, and I'm still upset about my ornaments.
Very frequently last winter, I would smell apple pies baking, you know the strong smell of cloves & cinnamon - I haven't even had any cloves in the house yet & I haven't baked an apple pie in 4 or 5 years.
A couple of days later, we had an open house & the wife of one of the guys my husband works with swore we had more than one spirit in the house. There are photos of the people who built the house, hanging in the stairwell. Someone made the comment at the open house that she (the wife) was homely. So my husband spouted off also saying that she was ugly & that she had no right to knock our tree over & break the ornaments.
Not long after that, my husband was taking a bath in the upstairs bathroom (he's too tall for the claw foot tub downstairs). Anyway, he heard the door to the bathroom opening while he was soaking. His thought it was our son messing with him, so he hollered him. Our son was not upstairs, he was not even in the house. And, then my husband heard the bathroom door close and footsteps running down the hallway.
Then, one day they were watching TV and the dog (a cocker spaniel) went nuts barking. My husband followed her into our bedroom. The bedroom door (which normally tends to open & stay open - has to be pulled tight to latch as a rule) slammed shut and the dog lay down & hid her face with her paws & whimpered.
One of our pictures from Christmas morning shows a light blob where no light was present in the room in the pre-dawn (you know how kids get you up early to open presents.)
My husband apologized for calling the lady "ugly". And the "incidents" have stopped except for the apple pie smells (which we don't mind cause it smells good) and the dog barking at nothing we can see. We won't put the Christmas tree in the same spot this year - it will go in the cupola instead.
It's been interesting. We're hoping to do some more research on the house. I just found out recently it was empty for 25 years. The previous owners had it for 30. And the ones before that for about 6 years. We're the fourth family.
A ghost story for you to read while you're trying to stay awake.
------
From: Elena Gillespie (agillesp@umich.edu)
Date: Wed, 26 Oct 1994 16:37:45
Story-type: Haunting
Location: Detroit MI, U.S.A.
Source: Email Submission
THIS STORY IS TRUE. Not one item about it has been changed or exaggerated. I have related it exactly as it occurred to me.
Due to a paranormal experience that happened to me about five years ago, I spent two years as an apprentice to a psychic.(What do you think, we're all born this way?) I'm really a normal person,other than this particular eccentricity, I work in medical research, and I'm actually quite happy at it. But that's another story, if anyone would like to talk about it, (the apprenticeship, that is) I'd be glad to, but this is about ghosts.
It seemed like, frequently, that whenever we would have a lecture in class on a particular topic, I would have a practical problem presented to me through no effort on my part, and very little option available to me as to whether I wanted to turn it down. It was almost like having a laboratory to the lecture, only in metaphysics. Very weird.
We had had a lecture on ghosts (entities, as they're known in the trade) and what to do about them. I remember being buggy and disinterested in class, thinking that I would never have a practical use for this stuff. I just figured nobody got haunted anymore. I came to find out differently that very weekend.
That Friday I had taken off from work as a vacation day, intending actually just to hang out and do nothing. An older friend of mine dropped by, and off the cuff asked me out to dinner. During dinner, he mentioned that he would like to visit his daughter and her family, who lived in an older section of Detroit.
He mentioned that his daughter had since remarried, but that she had had a bad time the last 2 years. Apparently, her first husband, David, had become increasingly mentally unstable, with the usual scenario of threats, physical abuse, kidnapping the kids, the whole nine yards. Sounded like a fun guy. She managed to finally divorce him, but as you can guess, this only escalated the situation.
His enduring fixation was his son, who just now was turning 3 years old. Attempts to kidnap him and/or threaten to kill the child and himself were things they had to deal with everyday. Police and injunctions proved irrelevant. He was finally diagnosed schizophrenic and hospitalized a number of times. There wasn't anything that had much effect on him. The whole thing finally culminated in his breaking into their house one day while they were not there (they were supposed to be, of course), putting a .44 magnum in his mouth and pulling the trigger. End of story.
Or so I thought. When we arrived there, the house was in a uproar. The house itself was one of those huge houses they used to build in the suburbs of big cities that was so big that it had been split into a duplex. Nothing particularly creepy, just lots of wood, cabinet space, 2 floors and an attic. Maybe built in the 20's.
The neighbor(next door) had just that morning left the house in her nightclothes. She had left all her belongings, including her kids, inside the house, and absolutely refused to go back.(She left her kids? Sounds like the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top with that one, I thought.) She said she had seen a blond longish-haired man at the top of the stairs. The main problem, however, is that he had a hole in his head. A big hole. With his eyes all sunken back and what looked like blood all over him.
Apparently, this had not been the only occurence, only the last in a long list of incidences. The little boy claimed to have seen his father a number of times, next to his bed, always at night. Things had been broken, as if thrown, and worse still, small fires had broken out under mysterious circumstances. In one instance, a portrait of Elvis had been torn off the wall and thrown across the room, shattering the glass and leaving holes in the wall. Apparently her ex had been incredibly jealous, but I couldn't say I blamed him on that one. The family was in a panic. They were planning to move, but could not move yet. (I would have been out of there so fast I would have broken records.) The Catholic priest the daughter had just talked to had just laughed at her when she said she needed an exorcist and hung up on her.
Suspecting what was going on,the daughter had taken a picture of David to the neighbor, who was at a hotel. The woman went into hysterics and had to be taken to the ER and sedated. It was the same man, of course, just without the ventilation job he'd done on his head.
She asked me if somehow I knew of anyone who could remove this whatever this was. Oh, for Pete's sake, I thought, somebody up there really has a sense of humor. Well, yes, I told her, fully intending to recommend her to my teacher. I really had no intention of getting involved with this. I was just a student, and this was not my specialty, anyway. It sounded to me like this guy was dead serious (sorry) and far more powerful than I wanted to mess with. My teacher had impressed this on us. You had better know what you are doing, and be completely confident in your ability. I was not convinced that I was either one.
I was about to give her my teacher's card when she told me that there had been further complications. Her little boy had come to her after a nap that afternoon in hysterics, bleeding from the mouth or gums. He gave a garbled story about his father wanting him to go with him and the child refusing to go back in his room for any reason. (Showed the most sense I'd seen in the family yet.)
That did it. I reasoned that if this a------ had this much balls, then there was no accounting for what he might do between now and the time my teacher could get out there so I was sort of beholden to do something NOW. Great. I'm shaking just remembering this story, so bear with me.
One of my strongest abilities lies in feeling (sensing) the presence of spiritual entitities. It's kind of like passing a magnet through iron filings, I just kind of get oriented towards it. So I knew I would be able to locate him, the big question, of course was removal.
The power to do these things exists in the mind, which can be as powerful or weak as you tell it to be. Building up the energy and keeping it pumped up can be difficult, and I had never applied it to this kind of problem before. However the thought of that little boy being harmed forced me to try.
The trick is this. Essentially, what you do is try to make it as uncomfortable for the entity to continue "living" there, and then persuade it to go "to the light". At this point, it has to make it's own choice as to whether it should "go across" or whether it wants to stay here. Sometimes, they just don't know they're dead. Other times they are so bound to unfinished business that they stay to finish it, like this guy was. The fact that this guy was severely mentally disturbed when he died didn't help my confidence levels any.
The first thing we did was have a prayer vigil in the kitchen while I went around and mentally covered everything with ultraviolet light. This is God's color and He is Light, so nothing can penetrate such a shield. I covered everything, the house and family, the pets, the appliances, their cars, all of it. We then went down to the basement (which was open to both apartments) and blessed all the doors and windows, ALL of them with olive oil in Jesus' name. Whether you believe in Him or not, he was one extremely spiritually powerful person, and negative entities DON'T like Him, and cannot withstand Him. So we went through the entire house, both sides, laboriously blessing every door, window and mirror in the house. All the while I was building up the energy to make the place as light filled as possible.
The place seemed "cool" to me in the basement even though it was kind of old and creepy. But as we went farther and farther upstairs, the I started feeling more and more aware of the "energy" being pulled into the attic. I knew where he was and he definitely knew where I was, and that I was coming to get HIM. I was fervently hoping he'd split before I got there. But the thought of that little boy really forced me to stay with it.
How can you tell this without sounding crazy? I'd come to the conclusion that I had come there that day for a reason, and to just go with it. The sense of "presence" was strongest of course in the little boy's room, which had a trapdoor in the ceiling up to the attic. The whole front of my body was tingling, particularly my face and nose. I could palpably sense the misery, hatred and insanity from just above me.
How I managed to get up there and that trap door open I have no idea. I was running on adrenaline but I really wasn't frightened. I had gathered my guides and angels around so tightly I think I nearly glowed in the dark. At this point I think I really was in an altered state.
Something fell or flew from somewhere and landed at my feet. It was a headless, naked child's doll. I remember thinking coolly, how cliche'. At another level I was wondering how I had gotten myself into this. In the corner was absolute blackness, and what I was looking for, this I KNEW. Someone began speaking. I realized it was me.
"Now, David, you know that you really have no place here. You're dead, and your family needs to go on with their lives, particularly your little boy. Let go, David, I know you're miserable, let go and go to the light. There is peace there, wouldn't you like that? My guides and angels are here to take you there, go with them. This house is completely protected now, everything, and I'm sure it's very uncomfortable for you. If you don't go, you know who I'll invoke, so go with them."
Ultimately, my feeling for this poor lost soul was one of pity, I cannot express to you the level of misery and pain it existed in.
Suddenly, I got a sense of release of tension, almost like a wind blowing, and the room became somehow less menacing, less dark. I stayed there for a minute longer, just until I was sure I wouldn't fall down the ladder trying to get down. My analytical mind kicked in, and responded by wanting to pass out. When I came back down, I just told the family that he was gone, but that they would have to believe that he was gone, and reinforce that daily, or all my lightwork would disintegrate and he would come back. That's the thing about this kind of work. If they don't go "to the light", and you don't reinforce your shields, they can come back.
They had no more problems in that house for quite some time, although I had heard from a friend later that David did come back, so he still has not found peace. The neighbor never set foot in her house again.
So you said you wanted a ghost story. There you are. Sometimes I wonder if it actually happened, and uncomfortably the answer is always the same. Other strange things have happened to me as a psychic student, and the thing is, I'm not even half trained yet. Makes me wonder what's next.
------
From: Elena Gillespie (agillesp@umich.edu)
Date: Wed, 26 Oct 1994 16:37:45
Story-type: Haunting
Location: Detroit MI, U.S.A.
Source: Email Submission
THIS STORY IS TRUE. Not one item about it has been changed or exaggerated. I have related it exactly as it occurred to me.
Due to a paranormal experience that happened to me about five years ago, I spent two years as an apprentice to a psychic.(What do you think, we're all born this way?) I'm really a normal person,other than this particular eccentricity, I work in medical research, and I'm actually quite happy at it. But that's another story, if anyone would like to talk about it, (the apprenticeship, that is) I'd be glad to, but this is about ghosts.
It seemed like, frequently, that whenever we would have a lecture in class on a particular topic, I would have a practical problem presented to me through no effort on my part, and very little option available to me as to whether I wanted to turn it down. It was almost like having a laboratory to the lecture, only in metaphysics. Very weird.
We had had a lecture on ghosts (entities, as they're known in the trade) and what to do about them. I remember being buggy and disinterested in class, thinking that I would never have a practical use for this stuff. I just figured nobody got haunted anymore. I came to find out differently that very weekend.
That Friday I had taken off from work as a vacation day, intending actually just to hang out and do nothing. An older friend of mine dropped by, and off the cuff asked me out to dinner. During dinner, he mentioned that he would like to visit his daughter and her family, who lived in an older section of Detroit.
He mentioned that his daughter had since remarried, but that she had had a bad time the last 2 years. Apparently, her first husband, David, had become increasingly mentally unstable, with the usual scenario of threats, physical abuse, kidnapping the kids, the whole nine yards. Sounded like a fun guy. She managed to finally divorce him, but as you can guess, this only escalated the situation.
His enduring fixation was his son, who just now was turning 3 years old. Attempts to kidnap him and/or threaten to kill the child and himself were things they had to deal with everyday. Police and injunctions proved irrelevant. He was finally diagnosed schizophrenic and hospitalized a number of times. There wasn't anything that had much effect on him. The whole thing finally culminated in his breaking into their house one day while they were not there (they were supposed to be, of course), putting a .44 magnum in his mouth and pulling the trigger. End of story.
Or so I thought. When we arrived there, the house was in a uproar. The house itself was one of those huge houses they used to build in the suburbs of big cities that was so big that it had been split into a duplex. Nothing particularly creepy, just lots of wood, cabinet space, 2 floors and an attic. Maybe built in the 20's.
The neighbor(next door) had just that morning left the house in her nightclothes. She had left all her belongings, including her kids, inside the house, and absolutely refused to go back.(She left her kids? Sounds like the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top with that one, I thought.) She said she had seen a blond longish-haired man at the top of the stairs. The main problem, however, is that he had a hole in his head. A big hole. With his eyes all sunken back and what looked like blood all over him.
Apparently, this had not been the only occurence, only the last in a long list of incidences. The little boy claimed to have seen his father a number of times, next to his bed, always at night. Things had been broken, as if thrown, and worse still, small fires had broken out under mysterious circumstances. In one instance, a portrait of Elvis had been torn off the wall and thrown across the room, shattering the glass and leaving holes in the wall. Apparently her ex had been incredibly jealous, but I couldn't say I blamed him on that one. The family was in a panic. They were planning to move, but could not move yet. (I would have been out of there so fast I would have broken records.) The Catholic priest the daughter had just talked to had just laughed at her when she said she needed an exorcist and hung up on her.
Suspecting what was going on,the daughter had taken a picture of David to the neighbor, who was at a hotel. The woman went into hysterics and had to be taken to the ER and sedated. It was the same man, of course, just without the ventilation job he'd done on his head.
She asked me if somehow I knew of anyone who could remove this whatever this was. Oh, for Pete's sake, I thought, somebody up there really has a sense of humor. Well, yes, I told her, fully intending to recommend her to my teacher. I really had no intention of getting involved with this. I was just a student, and this was not my specialty, anyway. It sounded to me like this guy was dead serious (sorry) and far more powerful than I wanted to mess with. My teacher had impressed this on us. You had better know what you are doing, and be completely confident in your ability. I was not convinced that I was either one.
I was about to give her my teacher's card when she told me that there had been further complications. Her little boy had come to her after a nap that afternoon in hysterics, bleeding from the mouth or gums. He gave a garbled story about his father wanting him to go with him and the child refusing to go back in his room for any reason. (Showed the most sense I'd seen in the family yet.)
That did it. I reasoned that if this a------ had this much balls, then there was no accounting for what he might do between now and the time my teacher could get out there so I was sort of beholden to do something NOW. Great. I'm shaking just remembering this story, so bear with me.
One of my strongest abilities lies in feeling (sensing) the presence of spiritual entitities. It's kind of like passing a magnet through iron filings, I just kind of get oriented towards it. So I knew I would be able to locate him, the big question, of course was removal.
The power to do these things exists in the mind, which can be as powerful or weak as you tell it to be. Building up the energy and keeping it pumped up can be difficult, and I had never applied it to this kind of problem before. However the thought of that little boy being harmed forced me to try.
The trick is this. Essentially, what you do is try to make it as uncomfortable for the entity to continue "living" there, and then persuade it to go "to the light". At this point, it has to make it's own choice as to whether it should "go across" or whether it wants to stay here. Sometimes, they just don't know they're dead. Other times they are so bound to unfinished business that they stay to finish it, like this guy was. The fact that this guy was severely mentally disturbed when he died didn't help my confidence levels any.
The first thing we did was have a prayer vigil in the kitchen while I went around and mentally covered everything with ultraviolet light. This is God's color and He is Light, so nothing can penetrate such a shield. I covered everything, the house and family, the pets, the appliances, their cars, all of it. We then went down to the basement (which was open to both apartments) and blessed all the doors and windows, ALL of them with olive oil in Jesus' name. Whether you believe in Him or not, he was one extremely spiritually powerful person, and negative entities DON'T like Him, and cannot withstand Him. So we went through the entire house, both sides, laboriously blessing every door, window and mirror in the house. All the while I was building up the energy to make the place as light filled as possible.
The place seemed "cool" to me in the basement even though it was kind of old and creepy. But as we went farther and farther upstairs, the I started feeling more and more aware of the "energy" being pulled into the attic. I knew where he was and he definitely knew where I was, and that I was coming to get HIM. I was fervently hoping he'd split before I got there. But the thought of that little boy really forced me to stay with it.
How can you tell this without sounding crazy? I'd come to the conclusion that I had come there that day for a reason, and to just go with it. The sense of "presence" was strongest of course in the little boy's room, which had a trapdoor in the ceiling up to the attic. The whole front of my body was tingling, particularly my face and nose. I could palpably sense the misery, hatred and insanity from just above me.
How I managed to get up there and that trap door open I have no idea. I was running on adrenaline but I really wasn't frightened. I had gathered my guides and angels around so tightly I think I nearly glowed in the dark. At this point I think I really was in an altered state.
Something fell or flew from somewhere and landed at my feet. It was a headless, naked child's doll. I remember thinking coolly, how cliche'. At another level I was wondering how I had gotten myself into this. In the corner was absolute blackness, and what I was looking for, this I KNEW. Someone began speaking. I realized it was me.
"Now, David, you know that you really have no place here. You're dead, and your family needs to go on with their lives, particularly your little boy. Let go, David, I know you're miserable, let go and go to the light. There is peace there, wouldn't you like that? My guides and angels are here to take you there, go with them. This house is completely protected now, everything, and I'm sure it's very uncomfortable for you. If you don't go, you know who I'll invoke, so go with them."
Ultimately, my feeling for this poor lost soul was one of pity, I cannot express to you the level of misery and pain it existed in.
Suddenly, I got a sense of release of tension, almost like a wind blowing, and the room became somehow less menacing, less dark. I stayed there for a minute longer, just until I was sure I wouldn't fall down the ladder trying to get down. My analytical mind kicked in, and responded by wanting to pass out. When I came back down, I just told the family that he was gone, but that they would have to believe that he was gone, and reinforce that daily, or all my lightwork would disintegrate and he would come back. That's the thing about this kind of work. If they don't go "to the light", and you don't reinforce your shields, they can come back.
They had no more problems in that house for quite some time, although I had heard from a friend later that David did come back, so he still has not found peace. The neighbor never set foot in her house again.
So you said you wanted a ghost story. There you are. Sometimes I wonder if it actually happened, and uncomfortably the answer is always the same. Other strange things have happened to me as a psychic student, and the thing is, I'm not even half trained yet. Makes me wonder what's next.
New photos and a new featured sound. This one is another one which I couldn't identify. I'd be more then happy to hear your suggestions!
Congrats to our winner of the 4 AM drawing, James Hall. He just walked away with a taper candle set. Woo!
You have until 6 AM PST to get in your entries to get a chance at winning the rest of these prizes, so don't forget! Either fill out the form above (get to it by clicking on the 'junk' graphic) or by sending an email to me@kiddlets.com with your real name, postal address and e-mail address.
Good luck and only four more posts to go!
Congrats to our winner of the 4 AM drawing, James Hall. He just walked away with a taper candle set. Woo!
You have until 6 AM PST to get in your entries to get a chance at winning the rest of these prizes, so don't forget! Either fill out the form above (get to it by clicking on the 'junk' graphic) or by sending an email to me@kiddlets.com with your real name, postal address and e-mail address.
Good luck and only four more posts to go!
Here is an awesome video of a moving orb that was sent in by a viewer.
York Orb[MPG]
We've got some new pictures and a new featured sound coming up, as well as the 4 AM drawing. If you want a chance to win, don't forget to submit your name, e-mail address and postal address to me@kiddlets.com.
We've got some new pictures and a new featured sound coming up, as well as the 4 AM drawing. If you want a chance to win, don't forget to submit your name, e-mail address and postal address to me@kiddlets.com.
This hails from Prana over at Pranagraphy, it's a 'weird' sound. Unfortunatly I didn't get any details about it, but it's interesting sounding anyway!
Weird Noises[WAV]
Not enough ghost stuff for you? Here is a user submitted photo. This one comes from Clay and it's way interesting.
Ghost Photo
Clay says that the only two people in the room were himself and the other person in the picture, and the house in which this was taken has a history of activity such as lights turn on and off and doors banging.
Thanks to you both! If you have a photo, sound, or story you want to share just send it my way me@kiddlets.com and I'll feature it here.
Up next, some really awesome viewer submitted video!
Not enough ghost stuff for you? Here is a user submitted photo. This one comes from Clay and it's way interesting.
Clay says that the only two people in the room were himself and the other person in the picture, and the house in which this was taken has a history of activity such as lights turn on and off and doors banging.
Thanks to you both! If you have a photo, sound, or story you want to share just send it my way me@kiddlets.com and I'll feature it here.
Up next, some really awesome viewer submitted video!
A ghost story for you. Next post? User submitted sounds! Woohoo!
-----
From: myers@netusa1.net
Date: Fri, 22 Mar 1996 14:53:33 -0600
To: obiwan@netcom.com
Subject: ghost story
I have lived in my house for 20 years. The house was built around 1950 and sits in a housing development that was built on, what was, farm land. As far as I know, no one has died in this house (I did check the history). But for some unknown reason we have unexplained happenings in the house. They seem to revolve around my son and myself.
The first scary experience I had happened shortly after my son's birth. He started crying around 2:00 a.m., I got up, went into his room, picked him up and then went into the kitchen to warm his bottle. My kitchen is a galley kitchen with a door at one end that leads to the garage. I fixed his bottle, then went back into his room to feed him. I was rocking him and not thinking about much, other that I wanted to go to sleep, when I felt a cold breeze behind me. I looked up and saw nothing. Then I felt this terrible presence in the room. I jumped up and turned....the cold and the presence were gone. I was shaken for a bit, but then convinced myself I had imagined what had just happened. I finished feeding my son and put him back to bed. I walked into the kitchen to put the bottle up and the door between the kitchen and the garage was standing wide open. I was truly frightened. My husband was working midnights at the time, so I was alone with my infant son, in the house. I, being very brave, ran to his room, picked him up, took him to our room and locked the door. When daylight came and my husband came home we searched the house and of course could find nothing missing, broken into etc. My husband thought I was one brick short a load.
Over the next few months we would hear thumping on the walls, (my husband heard these noises too, but believed the house was settling). We would hear something fall and even make a crashing sound, but would never find anything on the floor or broken. But nothing really scary happened until my son was around 2 years old. From the start he never liked to sleep in his room. I realized that wasn't unusual for a child, so I would try things like leaving the hallway light on or playing music in his room, etc. But he would always come into our bedroom in the wee hours and say he was frightened. When he finally reached the age where he could put sentences together I asked him why he was frightened. He said a lady was at his window. I assured him he was probably dreaming and explained how our imagination could fool us. Well, a few months later I was asleep and something woke me. I lay there a minute listening for my son and when I didn't hear him I opened my eyes. Standing at my bedroom window looking out was a woman. She had on a dress like someone would wear in the 1800's, not a fancy dress, but one that a person would wear for everyday. Her hair was pulled back into a bun. I closed my eyes and opened them several times before I realized I really was seeing someone/thing. She turned and looked at me and then vanished. Needless to say I believed my son from then on. The interesting thing here is, I wasn't afraid of her, unlike the first experience I had when my son was a baby.
After that night, unusual things happened more frequently, although it wasn't unusual for 3-6 months to go by and nothing would happen. We would go in cycles where lights would go off and on, the phone would jingle every night around 9:00, the smoke detectors would go off, the dryer door would fly open, I would come home from work and hear music being played on my son's keyboard (he would be at school). And many other happenings that would be too much to write.
This has been going on for years now. It is interesting that I've only been frightened 2 times, the 1st time I mentioned when my son was little and the 2nd time was when my son was around 9 years old. My husband and son were watching TV after dinner, I had just finished the dishes and decided to take the trash out into the garage. I carried it out, but didn't turn the light on in the garage because the kitchen light was bright enough to light my way. I emptied the trash and when I turned to come back into the house I heard a voice, as clear as a bell, say my name and I felt that terrible presence. The hair stood up on y neck, I ran into the house and told my husband there was someone in the garage. He ran to the garage and of course nothing was there.
After I thought about that incident, I remembered a time when I was little and I heard the very same voice call my name. My father use to wake up at odd hours and not be able to go back to sleep. He had a reading light over his bed and would read until he could go back to sleep. We had a game we played. If I awoke and saw his light on, I would run into the livingroom and hide, I would call out to him, he would come find me. Well, on one of those nights (the last time I hid), I found my hiding place which was about 5 feet from a window. I looked up and an old man was looking at me and called my name.(I remember it as being the same voice I heard in the garage). I honestly thought that incident had all been my imagination until the night in my garage.
My sone is 19 and in college. I asked him a couple of years ago exactly what he saw in his room when he was little. He said first there would be a bright orange ball of light in his window, then the light would come into his room and spread out like a line. Then the lady would appear from the light. He said she never said anything to him, but just stood in his room. I'm wondering now if the lady was a protector for my son. There were/are two beings in our house. One that was frightening and the other was not.
Things have slowed down some now, but ocasionally a thump or a crash will remind me we aren't alone in our house.
-----
From: myers@netusa1.net
Date: Fri, 22 Mar 1996 14:53:33 -0600
To: obiwan@netcom.com
Subject: ghost story
I have lived in my house for 20 years. The house was built around 1950 and sits in a housing development that was built on, what was, farm land. As far as I know, no one has died in this house (I did check the history). But for some unknown reason we have unexplained happenings in the house. They seem to revolve around my son and myself.
The first scary experience I had happened shortly after my son's birth. He started crying around 2:00 a.m., I got up, went into his room, picked him up and then went into the kitchen to warm his bottle. My kitchen is a galley kitchen with a door at one end that leads to the garage. I fixed his bottle, then went back into his room to feed him. I was rocking him and not thinking about much, other that I wanted to go to sleep, when I felt a cold breeze behind me. I looked up and saw nothing. Then I felt this terrible presence in the room. I jumped up and turned....the cold and the presence were gone. I was shaken for a bit, but then convinced myself I had imagined what had just happened. I finished feeding my son and put him back to bed. I walked into the kitchen to put the bottle up and the door between the kitchen and the garage was standing wide open. I was truly frightened. My husband was working midnights at the time, so I was alone with my infant son, in the house. I, being very brave, ran to his room, picked him up, took him to our room and locked the door. When daylight came and my husband came home we searched the house and of course could find nothing missing, broken into etc. My husband thought I was one brick short a load.
Over the next few months we would hear thumping on the walls, (my husband heard these noises too, but believed the house was settling). We would hear something fall and even make a crashing sound, but would never find anything on the floor or broken. But nothing really scary happened until my son was around 2 years old. From the start he never liked to sleep in his room. I realized that wasn't unusual for a child, so I would try things like leaving the hallway light on or playing music in his room, etc. But he would always come into our bedroom in the wee hours and say he was frightened. When he finally reached the age where he could put sentences together I asked him why he was frightened. He said a lady was at his window. I assured him he was probably dreaming and explained how our imagination could fool us. Well, a few months later I was asleep and something woke me. I lay there a minute listening for my son and when I didn't hear him I opened my eyes. Standing at my bedroom window looking out was a woman. She had on a dress like someone would wear in the 1800's, not a fancy dress, but one that a person would wear for everyday. Her hair was pulled back into a bun. I closed my eyes and opened them several times before I realized I really was seeing someone/thing. She turned and looked at me and then vanished. Needless to say I believed my son from then on. The interesting thing here is, I wasn't afraid of her, unlike the first experience I had when my son was a baby.
After that night, unusual things happened more frequently, although it wasn't unusual for 3-6 months to go by and nothing would happen. We would go in cycles where lights would go off and on, the phone would jingle every night around 9:00, the smoke detectors would go off, the dryer door would fly open, I would come home from work and hear music being played on my son's keyboard (he would be at school). And many other happenings that would be too much to write.
This has been going on for years now. It is interesting that I've only been frightened 2 times, the 1st time I mentioned when my son was little and the 2nd time was when my son was around 9 years old. My husband and son were watching TV after dinner, I had just finished the dishes and decided to take the trash out into the garage. I carried it out, but didn't turn the light on in the garage because the kitchen light was bright enough to light my way. I emptied the trash and when I turned to come back into the house I heard a voice, as clear as a bell, say my name and I felt that terrible presence. The hair stood up on y neck, I ran into the house and told my husband there was someone in the garage. He ran to the garage and of course nothing was there.
After I thought about that incident, I remembered a time when I was little and I heard the very same voice call my name. My father use to wake up at odd hours and not be able to go back to sleep. He had a reading light over his bed and would read until he could go back to sleep. We had a game we played. If I awoke and saw his light on, I would run into the livingroom and hide, I would call out to him, he would come find me. Well, on one of those nights (the last time I hid), I found my hiding place which was about 5 feet from a window. I looked up and an old man was looking at me and called my name.(I remember it as being the same voice I heard in the garage). I honestly thought that incident had all been my imagination until the night in my garage.
My sone is 19 and in college. I asked him a couple of years ago exactly what he saw in his room when he was little. He said first there would be a bright orange ball of light in his window, then the light would come into his room and spread out like a line. Then the lady would appear from the light. He said she never said anything to him, but just stood in his room. I'm wondering now if the lady was a protector for my son. There were/are two beings in our house. One that was frightening and the other was not.
Things have slowed down some now, but ocasionally a thump or a crash will remind me we aren't alone in our house.
New pictures and a new featured sound.
My wrist is killing me, so that's all you're going to get from me for right now. Up for the rest of the `Thon, a few more ghost stories, a few more new pictures and sounds, a drawing or two, and finishing up the questions that have been laying around here waiting patiently. Good times.
My wrist is killing me, so that's all you're going to get from me for right now. Up for the rest of the `Thon, a few more ghost stories, a few more new pictures and sounds, a drawing or two, and finishing up the questions that have been laying around here waiting patiently. Good times.
Unfortunatly hunger and madness has forced me to this.
I, and the bits between my teeth, are so ashamed.
I, and the bits between my teeth, are so ashamed.
Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 20:48:26 -1000
To: ghost-stories@netcom.com
From: chips@lava.net (Jerry Monti)
Subject: Haunted lighthouse
I would like to share with you an experience that I had several years ago while working on a lighthouse on lake Superior.
Standard Rock Light House is located on a shoal about 30 miles from the nearest point of land. it is constructed on a hollow cylinder of concrete reinforced with a belt of steel . which rises about 30 feet out of the water. It has not been occupied since about 1961. It was in this year that a fatal accident occurred to the lighthouse keeper and his crew. Somehow the kerosene tanks that fueled the fog signal exploded, what followed was a fire so intense that it actually consumed part of the stone structure. the only way that some of the crew survived was to hang over the side of the structure suspended by lines. It was several days before the crew was rescued, and then only because a vessel passing at night had reported the light extinguished.
In the spring of 1993, our unit was tasked with making repairs to Standard Rock light house prior to the Coast Guard turning it over to the National Park Service. After loading the suitable materials on board we steamed from Duluth MN enroute the lighthouse, the trip over was uneventful , however as soon as we arrived at the light the weather began to deteriorate. Eventually it began to blow so hard that we had to drop the anchor and ride it out. after two days of this the weather calmed sufficiently for us to launch a small boat to take the work party over. We made the light, off-loaded our supplies, and went to work. This was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon. By 5 the weather started to turn bad again, the ship wanted to bring us back but we decided to stay the night, finish the job, and hope that we could get back to the boat the next day.
The job ahead of us was big but simple, fix what needed to be fixed, clean and paint. Each of us had a task to do, I was on the main level , several of the crew were on the top level , and the rest of the crew was scattered about. When I finished my job, I went down to the keepers kitchen where my friend Jeff was working to give him a hand. As we worked the talk turned to the fire that the had occurred at the light and of the fate of the three keepers. One level below us was the bottom of the light . When we first came aboard the light we all walked through it to check it out . This area reminded me of catacombs , one main chamber with tunnels leading in different directions. Cold, dark and damp it was not a very comfortable place to be. Around seven Jeff and I decided to take a break. I walked over to the door leading to the lower level. opened it and called down jokingly "hey George we're going up for a bite to eat , want any thing?" Immediately sounds could be heard in the level below, scraping knocking, but the most chilling were the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. Jeff and I looked at each other, his eyes were as large as Volkswagen head lights, I bet mine were just as big. not saying a word we both raced up the stairs to the main level.
We ate our dinner, calmed down and decided that we had imagined the whole thing, Jeff related the story to the rest of the crew and everyone had a good laugh. Jeff took another job on a different level and we all went back to work. About 11:15 a couple of the guys suggested going down to the basement at midnight to see if anything would happen, I really didn't want to but not wanting to be branded a coward , I agreed to anyway. At midnight 5 of us made our way in to the basement , we called out, shut the lights off and waited. We didn't hear anything but I sure felt something , the hair was standing up on the back of my neck , I swear I could feel something moving around us. I'm sure that I was not the only one either. When nothing appeared we went back upstairs to the keepers quarters. As soon as we were all out of the basement the sounds started again. The five of us just stared at each other, until the footsteps started coming up the stairs again. At this point there was total chaos as we all tried to get up the stairs at the same time. as luck would have it I was the last in line, as I was going up the stairs I glanced back and saw just for an instant a shadow with no definite shape emerge from the basement door.
Nobody said much , we just went back to work. when we finished it was about three in the morning. we moved up to the upper level of the light and tried to get some sleep. I wasn't easy because for the rest of the night we heard everything form banging on the walls to distant moans. When the sun finally came up and we went back downstairs we found that some of our gear had been scattered around, and a garbage can had been turned on it's side and looked like somebody, or something had jumped up and down on it. I don't know what caused this, but of this I'm certain...it wasn't of this earth
To: ghost-stories@netcom.com
From: chips@lava.net (Jerry Monti)
Subject: Haunted lighthouse
I would like to share with you an experience that I had several years ago while working on a lighthouse on lake Superior.
Standard Rock Light House is located on a shoal about 30 miles from the nearest point of land. it is constructed on a hollow cylinder of concrete reinforced with a belt of steel . which rises about 30 feet out of the water. It has not been occupied since about 1961. It was in this year that a fatal accident occurred to the lighthouse keeper and his crew. Somehow the kerosene tanks that fueled the fog signal exploded, what followed was a fire so intense that it actually consumed part of the stone structure. the only way that some of the crew survived was to hang over the side of the structure suspended by lines. It was several days before the crew was rescued, and then only because a vessel passing at night had reported the light extinguished.
In the spring of 1993, our unit was tasked with making repairs to Standard Rock light house prior to the Coast Guard turning it over to the National Park Service. After loading the suitable materials on board we steamed from Duluth MN enroute the lighthouse, the trip over was uneventful , however as soon as we arrived at the light the weather began to deteriorate. Eventually it began to blow so hard that we had to drop the anchor and ride it out. after two days of this the weather calmed sufficiently for us to launch a small boat to take the work party over. We made the light, off-loaded our supplies, and went to work. This was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon. By 5 the weather started to turn bad again, the ship wanted to bring us back but we decided to stay the night, finish the job, and hope that we could get back to the boat the next day.
The job ahead of us was big but simple, fix what needed to be fixed, clean and paint. Each of us had a task to do, I was on the main level , several of the crew were on the top level , and the rest of the crew was scattered about. When I finished my job, I went down to the keepers kitchen where my friend Jeff was working to give him a hand. As we worked the talk turned to the fire that the had occurred at the light and of the fate of the three keepers. One level below us was the bottom of the light . When we first came aboard the light we all walked through it to check it out . This area reminded me of catacombs , one main chamber with tunnels leading in different directions. Cold, dark and damp it was not a very comfortable place to be. Around seven Jeff and I decided to take a break. I walked over to the door leading to the lower level. opened it and called down jokingly "hey George we're going up for a bite to eat , want any thing?" Immediately sounds could be heard in the level below, scraping knocking, but the most chilling were the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. Jeff and I looked at each other, his eyes were as large as Volkswagen head lights, I bet mine were just as big. not saying a word we both raced up the stairs to the main level.
We ate our dinner, calmed down and decided that we had imagined the whole thing, Jeff related the story to the rest of the crew and everyone had a good laugh. Jeff took another job on a different level and we all went back to work. About 11:15 a couple of the guys suggested going down to the basement at midnight to see if anything would happen, I really didn't want to but not wanting to be branded a coward , I agreed to anyway. At midnight 5 of us made our way in to the basement , we called out, shut the lights off and waited. We didn't hear anything but I sure felt something , the hair was standing up on the back of my neck , I swear I could feel something moving around us. I'm sure that I was not the only one either. When nothing appeared we went back upstairs to the keepers quarters. As soon as we were all out of the basement the sounds started again. The five of us just stared at each other, until the footsteps started coming up the stairs again. At this point there was total chaos as we all tried to get up the stairs at the same time. as luck would have it I was the last in line, as I was going up the stairs I glanced back and saw just for an instant a shadow with no definite shape emerge from the basement door.
Nobody said much , we just went back to work. when we finished it was about three in the morning. we moved up to the upper level of the light and tried to get some sleep. I wasn't easy because for the rest of the night we heard everything form banging on the walls to distant moans. When the sun finally came up and we went back downstairs we found that some of our gear had been scattered around, and a garbage can had been turned on it's side and looked like somebody, or something had jumped up and down on it. I don't know what caused this, but of this I'm certain...it wasn't of this earth
7.26.2003
From: Deena_Gitaitis@notes.ymp.gov
To: ghost-discuss@aurora.cdb.com
Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 13:00:18 -0400
Subject: Cry-baby Bridge
This story is one more piece of Northeastern folklore I've heard over the years. The actual bridge is in Maryland (within an hour of Baltimore, closer to Annapolis). I originally heard the story from a friend of mine who has actually been to the bridge. (A *little* bit better than the classic "friend of a friend", I guess.) She is not sure if she experienced actual "phenomena" -- or if she was unconsciously fulfilling pre-existing expectations. Here's the story:
Legend has it that there was a young woman, 17 years old, in the 70's living in this area of Maryland. Her family was very conservative (in some versions, her father was a preacher). Well, she had a bit of a wild streak, and liked to drink and smoke cigarettes (tobacco and otherwise). There was one particular boy she took a fancy to, perhaps because he fit her roguish image, and they began dating. Soon, she became pregnant. Knowing that her father would be very upset, and probably throw her out of his house -- she became distraught. She asked her boyfriend for help, only to learn that he wanted nothing more to do with her or the baby. If she tried to press matters, he would deny that he had fathered the child. Seeing no other choice, she decided to stay with an aunt in Virginia for a while. She hoped that once the baby was born, her father would soften up and take her and the child back into his home.
The aunt was sympathetic, but firmly told her that she could only stay until the baby was born. The aunt had many children of her own, and didn't feel she had enough space for two more. The girl agreed. All went well, and she had a healthy baby 8 1/2 months later.
One night soon after, she packed up their few belongings, worked up her courage, and left for her father's house. There, things took a turn for the worse. He was furious that she had not told him all this time. What made him even angrier was the public scandal this would cause. He viciously berated (and some say beat) her until she ran from the house in fear of her life. She took her baby with her. Hysterical, she had no idea where to run, and ended up at a nearby bridge. Looking down into the cool black water, sparkling in the moonlight, she began to see an answer to her problems. At the time, it must have seemed like the only solution. She and the baby would leave this miserable life together. As they plunged into the forgiving waters, they did just that. The bodies were never found.
If you go to the bridge on a cool dark night; especially if you're in emotional pain or distress, it is said that the baby's cries can be heard. Some say they are carried by the cold wind; others say they emanate from the depths of the cool water. No matter, they are reportedly unmistakable.
Now for my friend's experience:
She and another female friend went late one November night. It was still warm for that time of year, but seemed to get nippier once they got closer to the water. (No surprise there, as humidity generally makes the air feel cooler). She said that she was in fine spirits, but that her friend had just broken up with a boyfriend and was pretty miserable. The parked, got out of the car, and walked to the middle of the bridge. She said they had been there for about ten minutes when the wind kicked up. Her friend immediately heard cries that she believes to be those of the baby. My friend said that she herself thought the wind sounded very strange, sorrowful and whiney -- but that she wouldn't call it the unmistakable cries of a baby. They both agreed that the place was depressing, and making the second friend's sadness intensify, so they left.
This story reminds me of "La Llorona" which I know had been discussed on afg. I believe there was also a song written about this story featuring a different part of the country. Can anyone think of local legends similar to this from other parts of the country? I've only heard it about Maryland and points South.
To: ghost-discuss@aurora.cdb.com
Date: Tue, 1 Apr 1997 13:00:18 -0400
Subject: Cry-baby Bridge
This story is one more piece of Northeastern folklore I've heard over the years. The actual bridge is in Maryland (within an hour of Baltimore, closer to Annapolis). I originally heard the story from a friend of mine who has actually been to the bridge. (A *little* bit better than the classic "friend of a friend", I guess.) She is not sure if she experienced actual "phenomena" -- or if she was unconsciously fulfilling pre-existing expectations. Here's the story:
Legend has it that there was a young woman, 17 years old, in the 70's living in this area of Maryland. Her family was very conservative (in some versions, her father was a preacher). Well, she had a bit of a wild streak, and liked to drink and smoke cigarettes (tobacco and otherwise). There was one particular boy she took a fancy to, perhaps because he fit her roguish image, and they began dating. Soon, she became pregnant. Knowing that her father would be very upset, and probably throw her out of his house -- she became distraught. She asked her boyfriend for help, only to learn that he wanted nothing more to do with her or the baby. If she tried to press matters, he would deny that he had fathered the child. Seeing no other choice, she decided to stay with an aunt in Virginia for a while. She hoped that once the baby was born, her father would soften up and take her and the child back into his home.
The aunt was sympathetic, but firmly told her that she could only stay until the baby was born. The aunt had many children of her own, and didn't feel she had enough space for two more. The girl agreed. All went well, and she had a healthy baby 8 1/2 months later.
One night soon after, she packed up their few belongings, worked up her courage, and left for her father's house. There, things took a turn for the worse. He was furious that she had not told him all this time. What made him even angrier was the public scandal this would cause. He viciously berated (and some say beat) her until she ran from the house in fear of her life. She took her baby with her. Hysterical, she had no idea where to run, and ended up at a nearby bridge. Looking down into the cool black water, sparkling in the moonlight, she began to see an answer to her problems. At the time, it must have seemed like the only solution. She and the baby would leave this miserable life together. As they plunged into the forgiving waters, they did just that. The bodies were never found.
If you go to the bridge on a cool dark night; especially if you're in emotional pain or distress, it is said that the baby's cries can be heard. Some say they are carried by the cold wind; others say they emanate from the depths of the cool water. No matter, they are reportedly unmistakable.
Now for my friend's experience:
She and another female friend went late one November night. It was still warm for that time of year, but seemed to get nippier once they got closer to the water. (No surprise there, as humidity generally makes the air feel cooler). She said that she was in fine spirits, but that her friend had just broken up with a boyfriend and was pretty miserable. The parked, got out of the car, and walked to the middle of the bridge. She said they had been there for about ten minutes when the wind kicked up. Her friend immediately heard cries that she believes to be those of the baby. My friend said that she herself thought the wind sounded very strange, sorrowful and whiney -- but that she wouldn't call it the unmistakable cries of a baby. They both agreed that the place was depressing, and making the second friend's sadness intensify, so they left.
This story reminds me of "La Llorona" which I know had been discussed on afg. I believe there was also a song written about this story featuring a different part of the country. Can anyone think of local legends similar to this from other parts of the country? I've only heard it about Maryland and points South.
SaetanSadiablo: I got worried for a second.
SaetanSadiablo: I found a website that had deaalings in 'boy scouts' and it also had dealings with 'alternate lifestyles.' And was worried that it was a place breeding homophobes.
SaetanSadiablo: I had to check it out.
angrypsychokel: eep
SaetanSadiablo: It is safe for the gay youth of tomorrow. Farewell!
SaetanSadiablo: ::SuperFag flies off in the distance::
angrypsychokel: *lol*
RheaRhyolin: lol
SaetanSadiablo: I found a website that had deaalings in 'boy scouts' and it also had dealings with 'alternate lifestyles.' And was worried that it was a place breeding homophobes.
SaetanSadiablo: I had to check it out.
angrypsychokel: eep
SaetanSadiablo: It is safe for the gay youth of tomorrow. Farewell!
SaetanSadiablo: ::SuperFag flies off in the distance::
angrypsychokel: *lol*
RheaRhyolin: lol
Trinity Episcopal church haunting in San Francisco
By: Paulroger2@aol.com
Trinity Episcopal Church was built in 1892 and sits on the corner of Bush and
Gough Streets. In San Francisco. It is a large stone gothic church that was
designed after the Durham castle in England.
I have been a sexton (caretaker) for the church for about the last 10 years.
Meals on wheels have started their program of feeding approximately 160
elderly folks around the neighborhood at our church. Monday through Friday
between 11:30am and 1:30pm the dining room is full of elderly people and it
is a good way to utilize the space.
However, two of the kitchen workers have quit shortly after starting. They
only lasted a few days when on two separate occasions they became frightened.
One worker was going up the steps to the hallway when he suddenly saw a
ghost, sort of like a grey entity or shadow of a figure coming out of the
men's bathroom. and disappear through the wall on the other side of the hall.
The other worker saw it again on another occasion near the entrance to the
kitchen from the hallway.
We used to have a 7-day candle on the healing alter that burned 24 hours a
day.
When Paul, who is the other sexton, and I would come in to clean on Monday
morning, the candle would always be out and I or Paul would always have to
relight it. It never went out on any other day and their are two other 7 day
candles in the church that burn 24 hours a day, but they never went out like
this one did. every Monday it would be out. We thought it must be a draft
somewhere, funny though the draft always happened between Sunday afternoon
and Monday morning.
I saw it one evening in the church when I was vacuuming near the chapel
alter. It looked like a 3 dimensional shadow of a human figure and it came
down the steps and went right passed me. Startled by it, I turned off the
vacuum and swiftly made my way down stairs calling out for Paul. I made him
come back up with me to investigate my experience with the ghost. We sat in
one of the front pews and waited silently for a while but nothing else
happened that evening.
One time, it was late afternoon, I was straightening all of the kneelers
pushing them all underneath the pews. When I walked down the middle aisle I
was checking that all the kneelers were in straight rows. About halfway down
the church in one of the rows, one of the kneelers was pushed out from the
rest of the kneelers. This kneeler looks different from all the rest and is
sort of an oddball kneeler and I distinctly remember pushing that kneeler
under the pew. I was startled by what I saw, but I went over and pushed it
back underneath the pew. no one else was in the Sanctuary with me and Paul
was cleaning the rooms downstairs at the time.
On still another occasion It was a Sunday Morning, people from the 8:00am
service had left and the Father Michael had gone into the Rector's office to
chat with Father Cromey. I was again vacuuming the carpet in the Sanctuary
of the Church when the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I turned
around and saw a tall slender figure wearing an off-white linen suit and he
was across the aisle in the other section of pews but he was standing their
facing me, and as I started to focus on his face he vanished right before my
eyes. I was not startled this time because I sensed the figure was not
trying to frightened me. I turned off the vacuum and paused for a few minutes
and looked all around the church, hoping to get a glimpse of the ghost again,
but I didn't and I continued with my vacuuming.
One time, it was about 10 in the evening and I was mopping the bathrooms in
the ambulatory, (a curved half-circle hallway where the church offices are
located), and minutes before, I had come out of the room where the cleaning
supplies are kept. As I began mopping one of the bathrooms I heard like a
man's footsteps coming from that room. I stopped mopping and the footsteps
went down the hallway passed the bathroom doorway and I could see out into
the hallway and I saw nothing as the sounds of the footsteps walked passed
and continued to the other end of the hall. I was frozen stiff and couldn't
move. Again, the hair on my neck stood up and I flung the mop aside and ran
downstairs yelling for Paul.
Sometimes when I am in the men's bathroom downstairs all alone. I often feel
like someone is watching me.
This is where other people have observed a grey shadowed figure standing in
the hall just outside of the men's restroom.
Other people have had similar experiences too within the walls of this old
church built in 1892.
There is a crypt under the church where the founder, Rev. Flavel Mines is
buried. and we also have the columbarium in the Sanctuary of the church that
holds the remains of about twenty people.
Another time, about eight in the evening, our neighbor Andy went out to
dinner with us, we took him to a little cafe located near the church. So we
parked in the church parking lot. When we came back from the cafe, I took
Andy into the church to show him around. We came down the backstairs and
into the hall, when Andy suddenly said frantically, "what is that!" When I
looked down the hall I didn't see anything, but Andy described a grey shadowy
looking figure near the Men's restoom door in the hall, it had vanished by
the time I looked. I never told him about the ghost until he saw it himself,
because lately, I have sort of forgotten about it.
But with this recent occurrence with the two kitchen workers, it's reminded
me about my ghostly experiences here and I know that it is continuing.
I said out loud one time to the ghost, that I didn't want to be startled by
it or to hear it anymore and for me it seemed to stop. but who knows, one of
these days or nights, it's going to give me another startle when I least
expect it.
I think it's fun because I know that the ghost is not mischievious and is
just trying to get to another part of the church when people come around. So
I guess it's a lonely ghost. probably a church member from long ago. or
someone that used to attend one of the support groups that go on every
evening in the dining room. I don't know.
But when I have had my experiences with the ghost or ghosts, at the time, I
wasn't thinking about anything spooky when it happened. so I know I didn''t
imagine it. I'm usually thinking about other things and not anything to make
myself get spooked.
And the kichen workers didn't know anything about the ghost prior to their
ghostly experiences there.
By: Paulroger2@aol.com
Trinity Episcopal Church was built in 1892 and sits on the corner of Bush and
Gough Streets. In San Francisco. It is a large stone gothic church that was
designed after the Durham castle in England.
I have been a sexton (caretaker) for the church for about the last 10 years.
Meals on wheels have started their program of feeding approximately 160
elderly folks around the neighborhood at our church. Monday through Friday
between 11:30am and 1:30pm the dining room is full of elderly people and it
is a good way to utilize the space.
However, two of the kitchen workers have quit shortly after starting. They
only lasted a few days when on two separate occasions they became frightened.
One worker was going up the steps to the hallway when he suddenly saw a
ghost, sort of like a grey entity or shadow of a figure coming out of the
men's bathroom. and disappear through the wall on the other side of the hall.
The other worker saw it again on another occasion near the entrance to the
kitchen from the hallway.
We used to have a 7-day candle on the healing alter that burned 24 hours a
day.
When Paul, who is the other sexton, and I would come in to clean on Monday
morning, the candle would always be out and I or Paul would always have to
relight it. It never went out on any other day and their are two other 7 day
candles in the church that burn 24 hours a day, but they never went out like
this one did. every Monday it would be out. We thought it must be a draft
somewhere, funny though the draft always happened between Sunday afternoon
and Monday morning.
I saw it one evening in the church when I was vacuuming near the chapel
alter. It looked like a 3 dimensional shadow of a human figure and it came
down the steps and went right passed me. Startled by it, I turned off the
vacuum and swiftly made my way down stairs calling out for Paul. I made him
come back up with me to investigate my experience with the ghost. We sat in
one of the front pews and waited silently for a while but nothing else
happened that evening.
One time, it was late afternoon, I was straightening all of the kneelers
pushing them all underneath the pews. When I walked down the middle aisle I
was checking that all the kneelers were in straight rows. About halfway down
the church in one of the rows, one of the kneelers was pushed out from the
rest of the kneelers. This kneeler looks different from all the rest and is
sort of an oddball kneeler and I distinctly remember pushing that kneeler
under the pew. I was startled by what I saw, but I went over and pushed it
back underneath the pew. no one else was in the Sanctuary with me and Paul
was cleaning the rooms downstairs at the time.
On still another occasion It was a Sunday Morning, people from the 8:00am
service had left and the Father Michael had gone into the Rector's office to
chat with Father Cromey. I was again vacuuming the carpet in the Sanctuary
of the Church when the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I turned
around and saw a tall slender figure wearing an off-white linen suit and he
was across the aisle in the other section of pews but he was standing their
facing me, and as I started to focus on his face he vanished right before my
eyes. I was not startled this time because I sensed the figure was not
trying to frightened me. I turned off the vacuum and paused for a few minutes
and looked all around the church, hoping to get a glimpse of the ghost again,
but I didn't and I continued with my vacuuming.
One time, it was about 10 in the evening and I was mopping the bathrooms in
the ambulatory, (a curved half-circle hallway where the church offices are
located), and minutes before, I had come out of the room where the cleaning
supplies are kept. As I began mopping one of the bathrooms I heard like a
man's footsteps coming from that room. I stopped mopping and the footsteps
went down the hallway passed the bathroom doorway and I could see out into
the hallway and I saw nothing as the sounds of the footsteps walked passed
and continued to the other end of the hall. I was frozen stiff and couldn't
move. Again, the hair on my neck stood up and I flung the mop aside and ran
downstairs yelling for Paul.
Sometimes when I am in the men's bathroom downstairs all alone. I often feel
like someone is watching me.
This is where other people have observed a grey shadowed figure standing in
the hall just outside of the men's restroom.
Other people have had similar experiences too within the walls of this old
church built in 1892.
There is a crypt under the church where the founder, Rev. Flavel Mines is
buried. and we also have the columbarium in the Sanctuary of the church that
holds the remains of about twenty people.
Another time, about eight in the evening, our neighbor Andy went out to
dinner with us, we took him to a little cafe located near the church. So we
parked in the church parking lot. When we came back from the cafe, I took
Andy into the church to show him around. We came down the backstairs and
into the hall, when Andy suddenly said frantically, "what is that!" When I
looked down the hall I didn't see anything, but Andy described a grey shadowy
looking figure near the Men's restoom door in the hall, it had vanished by
the time I looked. I never told him about the ghost until he saw it himself,
because lately, I have sort of forgotten about it.
But with this recent occurrence with the two kitchen workers, it's reminded
me about my ghostly experiences here and I know that it is continuing.
I said out loud one time to the ghost, that I didn't want to be startled by
it or to hear it anymore and for me it seemed to stop. but who knows, one of
these days or nights, it's going to give me another startle when I least
expect it.
I think it's fun because I know that the ghost is not mischievious and is
just trying to get to another part of the church when people come around. So
I guess it's a lonely ghost. probably a church member from long ago. or
someone that used to attend one of the support groups that go on every
evening in the dining room. I don't know.
But when I have had my experiences with the ghost or ghosts, at the time, I
wasn't thinking about anything spooky when it happened. so I know I didn''t
imagine it. I'm usually thinking about other things and not anything to make
myself get spooked.
And the kichen workers didn't know anything about the ghost prior to their
ghostly experiences there.
Here is a fun (ok, weird) ghost themed game for your late night `Thonning enjoyment.
Feed the hungry ghost game - if you don't get how to play this game, you should just give up now. It entertained me for all of two minutes.
It's going to be a long night.
Feed the hungry ghost game - if you don't get how to play this game, you should just give up now. It entertained me for all of two minutes.
It's going to be a long night.
New pictures and sound updates will now change from every hour to every two hours to accomidate the fact that I'm running out of pictures and sounds. Also, because I'm abhorrently lazy.
Until then, here is the winner for the 10 PM drawing. Congrats to Skye who wins a starter collection of purdy crystals. No, I'm not giving away driveway gravel, although I could if you wanted me to.
Next drawing will be at 1 AM, so make sure you enter by sending me an E-mail with your name, postal address and E-mail.
Until then, here is the winner for the 10 PM drawing. Congrats to Skye who wins a starter collection of purdy crystals. No, I'm not giving away driveway gravel, although I could if you wanted me to.
Next drawing will be at 1 AM, so make sure you enter by sending me an E-mail with your name, postal address and E-mail.
Reposted from another site here is another ghost story Copyright 2003 by Chris Ullman.
---------
If the ghost lights in Marfa, Texas, are thought by many observers to be a bit mysterious, then the anomalous lights witnessed by hundreds of individuals in the skies above the Yakima Indian Reservation in south-central Washington state over the past thirty-plus years have got to be considered downright frightening to say the least.
This sparsely populated reservation is 3,500 miles square, resting snugly between rugged wilderness to the west and flat lands to the east. In the late 1960s many individuals on the reservation, among them forest rangers, fire-control personnel and everyday residents of the area, began reporting the movement of bright white lights across the sky late in the evening. These reports were subsequently filed with the chief fire control officer at the time, W.J. (Bill) Vogel, who by his own admission didn't pay much attention to the reports initially. One night as he was on patrol in the region, Vogel saw movement in the sky above a hill on Toppenish Ridge, which cuts through the reservation's east-central sector.
Spending over ninety minutes at the site viewing this strange object in the sky, Vogel took a series of still photographs and wrote some detailed notes describing what he had seen. And in the blink of an eye this one-time skeptic found himself engrossed in an aerial phenomenon that defied explanation. According to his notes, the light was not an aircraft, and had no discernible lateral movement. The object had an obvious teardrop shape, with the small end pointed upwards. It was brilliantly white in the center, surrounded by fluorescent tan or light orange edges and a halolike glow. A mouselike tail or antenna protruded from the top of the object; this antenna was reportedly divided into segments of red, blue, green and white colors which constantly rotated and changed in intensity and hue.
This would turn out to be the first of a number of late-night encounters between Vogel and this luminously brilliant light. The air force soon got wind of the goings-on near Toppenish Ridge, and after persuading the reservation's tribal leaders to allow them to do so, investigators swiftly descended on the reservation with a truckload of monitoring equipment and cameras in tow. Footage was shot, data was gathered, and everyone involved in that initial investigation -- and in all of the subsequent investigations as well -- left the area knowing little more about the phenomenon than when they first arrived.
The oddest reports recorded by fire lookouts involved apparent telepathic communication between the witnesses of the strange lights and some unknown entity. Although most of the sightings involved seeing the lights at a great distance, on occasion a number of viewers to the phenomenon, many of them fire lookouts themselves, reported "hearing" a voice in their heads that told them to stay back in order to avoid serious injury. One lookout on the reservation saw a shaft of bright purple light shining down around her cabin. When she made an attempt to go outside and investigate, she reported feeling a bizarre sensation that somehow prevented her from doing so. She claimed to feel an intensely odd force as if two magnets were repelling each other in order to block her egress from the cabin. Troubled, but apparently allowing her courage to outweigh her common sense, she even tried running across the cabin and launching herself at the doorway, but could not pass through it.
Many witnesses of these lights have reported experiencing a strong intuitive notion that they were seeing something they were not supposed to be seeing, and many have found that once they actually get to the reservation and see the display, they are compelled to immediately remove themselves from the presence of the lights that they have come to investigate.
Reports of encounters with craftlike structures and alien beings have also been filed at the reservation, most of them claiming involvement on some level with skinny, long-haired, long-nosed humanoids...
---------
If the ghost lights in Marfa, Texas, are thought by many observers to be a bit mysterious, then the anomalous lights witnessed by hundreds of individuals in the skies above the Yakima Indian Reservation in south-central Washington state over the past thirty-plus years have got to be considered downright frightening to say the least.
This sparsely populated reservation is 3,500 miles square, resting snugly between rugged wilderness to the west and flat lands to the east. In the late 1960s many individuals on the reservation, among them forest rangers, fire-control personnel and everyday residents of the area, began reporting the movement of bright white lights across the sky late in the evening. These reports were subsequently filed with the chief fire control officer at the time, W.J. (Bill) Vogel, who by his own admission didn't pay much attention to the reports initially. One night as he was on patrol in the region, Vogel saw movement in the sky above a hill on Toppenish Ridge, which cuts through the reservation's east-central sector.
Spending over ninety minutes at the site viewing this strange object in the sky, Vogel took a series of still photographs and wrote some detailed notes describing what he had seen. And in the blink of an eye this one-time skeptic found himself engrossed in an aerial phenomenon that defied explanation. According to his notes, the light was not an aircraft, and had no discernible lateral movement. The object had an obvious teardrop shape, with the small end pointed upwards. It was brilliantly white in the center, surrounded by fluorescent tan or light orange edges and a halolike glow. A mouselike tail or antenna protruded from the top of the object; this antenna was reportedly divided into segments of red, blue, green and white colors which constantly rotated and changed in intensity and hue.
This would turn out to be the first of a number of late-night encounters between Vogel and this luminously brilliant light. The air force soon got wind of the goings-on near Toppenish Ridge, and after persuading the reservation's tribal leaders to allow them to do so, investigators swiftly descended on the reservation with a truckload of monitoring equipment and cameras in tow. Footage was shot, data was gathered, and everyone involved in that initial investigation -- and in all of the subsequent investigations as well -- left the area knowing little more about the phenomenon than when they first arrived.
The oddest reports recorded by fire lookouts involved apparent telepathic communication between the witnesses of the strange lights and some unknown entity. Although most of the sightings involved seeing the lights at a great distance, on occasion a number of viewers to the phenomenon, many of them fire lookouts themselves, reported "hearing" a voice in their heads that told them to stay back in order to avoid serious injury. One lookout on the reservation saw a shaft of bright purple light shining down around her cabin. When she made an attempt to go outside and investigate, she reported feeling a bizarre sensation that somehow prevented her from doing so. She claimed to feel an intensely odd force as if two magnets were repelling each other in order to block her egress from the cabin. Troubled, but apparently allowing her courage to outweigh her common sense, she even tried running across the cabin and launching herself at the doorway, but could not pass through it.
Many witnesses of these lights have reported experiencing a strong intuitive notion that they were seeing something they were not supposed to be seeing, and many have found that once they actually get to the reservation and see the display, they are compelled to immediately remove themselves from the presence of the lights that they have come to investigate.
Reports of encounters with craftlike structures and alien beings have also been filed at the reservation, most of them claiming involvement on some level with skinny, long-haired, long-nosed humanoids...
Here's another story.
----
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
From: brianbet@camalott.com (Brian Bethel)
Subject: A Television Tale o' Terror.
Date: Fri, 19 Aug 1994 04:01:42 GMT
My Strange and Terrifying Television Experience
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------
Okay. Here's the scoop. (Yes, we newspaper types really do say that!)
Long ago when I was about four or five, I stayed over at my grandparents' house for the night. My Mom stayed over with me, because Dad was out of town on business.
Granny and Granddad quite enjoyed their television programs, and had a set in each of the two bedrooms in the house, as well as in the living room. I was still stupid enough to believe TV's flickering, mind-sucking images were pretty neat, so I was in he aven.
Night came on softly, as it only can when you feel safety and warmth around you. With one of Granny's home-cooked meals in my stomach, I had begun to feel the need for slumber. So, we all piled in the monstrous king-sized bed in Granny and Granddad's mas ter bedroom, and soon we were all snoring blissfully.
I woke up in the night and sat upright, looking around. Something had disturbed my slumber. Granddad was still snoring rhythmically, and Granny looked like she hadn't budged an inch, so I sat back and prepared to visit the realm of dream once more.
Then the television turned itself on.
Now, I'm only 22 years old, but this was in the days when remote controls were the providence of the wealthy and debased. Granny and Grandad did not fit into any of those two categories.
To see a television turn itself on was an interesting thing. I sat up again to see what would come on.
At that time, the TV in my grandparents' bedroom was a black and white. I watched the white dot that had formed in the middle expand to full screen, but only the static of a dead channel appeared.
Then, images began to appear.
I couldn't really describe them. They were sort of shadowy things at first, but they seemed to be -- for lack of a better term -- "scoping me out." Slowly, an actual image began to appear.
Muppets! The Muppets were on! I was exalted, elated. I wanted to wake my grandparents up, but I then started to feel a bit uncomfortable about what was happening on the television.
Muppets did not usually have fangs as I recall. At least, not ones that looked so ... real and out of place in an otherwise standard Muppet-style mouth.
I realize this is sounding goofy. You were warned. :)
Well, uncertain about what to do, I decided to keep a close watch on the television.
The "Muppets" looked at me. It was common of course on Sesame Street and the Muppet Show for them to acknowledge the audience, so I wasn't alarmed so much by that.
I describe these things as Muppets because that's primarily what they looked like. Other than the rows and rows of unusual teeth, one looked vaguely Groveresque and the other sort of reminded me of Harry the Monster (don't know if he's even ON Sesame Str eet anymore).
The Groveresque Muppet leaned over and pointed at me, while whispering something to his companion. They looked at me in unison, whispering all the while in a strange, unusually guttural tongue. It sounded completely random, although it did somehow seem t o follow the meter and pattern of a language.
I noticed when the Groveresque Muppet pointed, he had very long, distinct talons on his furry hands. This, too, was quite disturbing.
The Muppets began to dance, sing and cavort about in that strange language of theirs. It was sort of amusing, I recall. I began to feel a bit more at ease.
The Muppets motioned for me to come forward.
I shook my head.
The Muppets tried again.
I shook my head. I was beginning to feel frightened. If there ever was a way Muppets could look pissed, these guys were doing it. With all those rows of fangs, it wasn't pretty.
I should mention that all of this singing, dancing, cavorting horror that was going on seemed to in no way disturb my grandparents. This disturbed me as well, because these guys were LOUD.
I got out of bed and crept into the living room, being careful to avoid approaching the screen. The Muppet-things wore visages of absolute anger now, motioning violently for me to approach the screen. My attempts rouse my grandmother and grandfather were in vain; they would not stir.
I ran into the living room, crying. I collapsed in my Granddad's chair, buried my face into the fabric, and began to weep, certain doom had come for me.
I looked over at the television in the corner of the living room. It had already begun to turn itself on, the shadow-forms that had dissolved into the Henson-styled horrors already beginning to flicker across its surface.
I screamed, rooted to the spot. But as the scream left my lungs and two grinning, fanged faces burst into being on the television screen, faintly and then with increasing tempo I heard footsteps.
The things in the television looked worried, swirled into their shadow-forms and were gone.
The television winked out just as my Mother ran into the room.
After consoling me, we went to check on Granny and Granddad. They were both awake, and had heard me scream.
We all sat up for a while talking, and eventually the warmth and love returned to fill the chill in my soul.
I went to bed and nothing more happened that night. Or any other night I stayed with my grandparents.
A waking dream? Probably so. But one that still fills me with terror.
I was awake of course, Mom will still assert, when I was in the chair. So, I did move somehow from the bed to the chair.
Still, it gives one pause. What better way to snare a young boy than to show him something he loves, then pull him in unawares?
Whatever those two things were, I'm sure the Muppet-forms were not their natural shape. I'm sure the fangs and talons were part of it, though.
If they're still out there, I hope they haven't had much time to practice those forms. If they could get them just right ...
I still wonder what would have happened -- dream or not -- if I had put my then-small hands up to the screen there in my grandparents' bedroom.
Perhaps nothing.
And then again, perhaps it's better not to know.
Next time, I'll post some real ghost stories. But the TV thread made remember this.
In case you're wondering, I don't watch much television anymore. It all seems so ... diabolical. ;)
----
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
From: brianbet@camalott.com (Brian Bethel)
Subject: A Television Tale o' Terror.
Date: Fri, 19 Aug 1994 04:01:42 GMT
My Strange and Terrifying Television Experience
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------
Okay. Here's the scoop. (Yes, we newspaper types really do say that!)
Long ago when I was about four or five, I stayed over at my grandparents' house for the night. My Mom stayed over with me, because Dad was out of town on business.
Granny and Granddad quite enjoyed their television programs, and had a set in each of the two bedrooms in the house, as well as in the living room. I was still stupid enough to believe TV's flickering, mind-sucking images were pretty neat, so I was in he aven.
Night came on softly, as it only can when you feel safety and warmth around you. With one of Granny's home-cooked meals in my stomach, I had begun to feel the need for slumber. So, we all piled in the monstrous king-sized bed in Granny and Granddad's mas ter bedroom, and soon we were all snoring blissfully.
I woke up in the night and sat upright, looking around. Something had disturbed my slumber. Granddad was still snoring rhythmically, and Granny looked like she hadn't budged an inch, so I sat back and prepared to visit the realm of dream once more.
Then the television turned itself on.
Now, I'm only 22 years old, but this was in the days when remote controls were the providence of the wealthy and debased. Granny and Grandad did not fit into any of those two categories.
To see a television turn itself on was an interesting thing. I sat up again to see what would come on.
At that time, the TV in my grandparents' bedroom was a black and white. I watched the white dot that had formed in the middle expand to full screen, but only the static of a dead channel appeared.
Then, images began to appear.
I couldn't really describe them. They were sort of shadowy things at first, but they seemed to be -- for lack of a better term -- "scoping me out." Slowly, an actual image began to appear.
Muppets! The Muppets were on! I was exalted, elated. I wanted to wake my grandparents up, but I then started to feel a bit uncomfortable about what was happening on the television.
Muppets did not usually have fangs as I recall. At least, not ones that looked so ... real and out of place in an otherwise standard Muppet-style mouth.
I realize this is sounding goofy. You were warned. :)
Well, uncertain about what to do, I decided to keep a close watch on the television.
The "Muppets" looked at me. It was common of course on Sesame Street and the Muppet Show for them to acknowledge the audience, so I wasn't alarmed so much by that.
I describe these things as Muppets because that's primarily what they looked like. Other than the rows and rows of unusual teeth, one looked vaguely Groveresque and the other sort of reminded me of Harry the Monster (don't know if he's even ON Sesame Str eet anymore).
The Groveresque Muppet leaned over and pointed at me, while whispering something to his companion. They looked at me in unison, whispering all the while in a strange, unusually guttural tongue. It sounded completely random, although it did somehow seem t o follow the meter and pattern of a language.
I noticed when the Groveresque Muppet pointed, he had very long, distinct talons on his furry hands. This, too, was quite disturbing.
The Muppets began to dance, sing and cavort about in that strange language of theirs. It was sort of amusing, I recall. I began to feel a bit more at ease.
The Muppets motioned for me to come forward.
I shook my head.
The Muppets tried again.
I shook my head. I was beginning to feel frightened. If there ever was a way Muppets could look pissed, these guys were doing it. With all those rows of fangs, it wasn't pretty.
I should mention that all of this singing, dancing, cavorting horror that was going on seemed to in no way disturb my grandparents. This disturbed me as well, because these guys were LOUD.
I got out of bed and crept into the living room, being careful to avoid approaching the screen. The Muppet-things wore visages of absolute anger now, motioning violently for me to approach the screen. My attempts rouse my grandmother and grandfather were in vain; they would not stir.
I ran into the living room, crying. I collapsed in my Granddad's chair, buried my face into the fabric, and began to weep, certain doom had come for me.
I looked over at the television in the corner of the living room. It had already begun to turn itself on, the shadow-forms that had dissolved into the Henson-styled horrors already beginning to flicker across its surface.
I screamed, rooted to the spot. But as the scream left my lungs and two grinning, fanged faces burst into being on the television screen, faintly and then with increasing tempo I heard footsteps.
The things in the television looked worried, swirled into their shadow-forms and were gone.
The television winked out just as my Mother ran into the room.
After consoling me, we went to check on Granny and Granddad. They were both awake, and had heard me scream.
We all sat up for a while talking, and eventually the warmth and love returned to fill the chill in my soul.
I went to bed and nothing more happened that night. Or any other night I stayed with my grandparents.
A waking dream? Probably so. But one that still fills me with terror.
I was awake of course, Mom will still assert, when I was in the chair. So, I did move somehow from the bed to the chair.
Still, it gives one pause. What better way to snare a young boy than to show him something he loves, then pull him in unawares?
Whatever those two things were, I'm sure the Muppet-forms were not their natural shape. I'm sure the fangs and talons were part of it, though.
If they're still out there, I hope they haven't had much time to practice those forms. If they could get them just right ...
I still wonder what would have happened -- dream or not -- if I had put my then-small hands up to the screen there in my grandparents' bedroom.
Perhaps nothing.
And then again, perhaps it's better not to know.
Next time, I'll post some real ghost stories. But the TV thread made remember this.
In case you're wondering, I don't watch much television anymore. It all seems so ... diabolical. ;)
Another user submitted story for you! Also, new photos and a new sound.
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I recently moved from a house that my outside cat named "Cat" did not like. He was very skittish about going in there. I once thought if he had time he would get used to it. So I left him in the house with food and water and went away for an hour or so.
When I came home he didn't run up to me. I looked under the furniture but couldn't find him. I finally looked in a bathroom and found him shaking in the bath tub with it's nose down at the drain hole. I wondered if it sensed something in the house.
My new place is on the other side of the woods from my old house and I think Cat found my new place by my five sets of wind chimes that are always ringing. I could not move him in the car because in his terror of the car he would have clawed me to pieces.
I was anxious to get Cat into my new place to see how he acted in there. The first time he came to eat was during the day. He came in and sniffed around and seemed to like the place. He ate his food and then disappeared for his usual two or three days. I guess he goes out hunting for girl cats!
When he came back was the first night after a bad ice storm. Power was out in most residential areas for days. It was pitch black dark as there were no street lights. Everything was coated with ice. Broken branches and trees were everywhere and it was slightly foggy. It was a creepy scene. I got in from work at night and went about looking for candles. Lights were on when I left for work so I didn't prepare for darkness or cold.
As I was hunting around Cat ran up to the back door for food, which startled me because I was creeped anyway. Always being glad to see him, I opened the door to let him in. This time he didn't want to come in. I use a manual can opener and when he heard that he came in anyway because he knows that menas food.
After putting the bowl on the floor Cat starts chowing down. I talk to Cat like a person and explained to him I had to go get a sleeping bag from the basement since I would need it to stay warm in bed without heat.
I go down and get the sleeping bag. It was unrolled, so since I was ready to get out of the basement I just draped the sleeping bag over my shoulder (kinda like Linus) and started up the stairs. I was carrying a candle and was holding it out in front of me so I could see. As I was coming towards the top few stairs Cat looked at me and jumped straight up in the air. He hit the ground running and ran into the back sun room where the plexiglass back door is. He then jumps about three feet into the air and into the door. He fell to the ground, ran around in circles and jumped into the door again. It scared me so bad I almost wet myself! I ran to let him out so he wouldn't hurt himself jumping into the door.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself. I was sweating, my heart was pounding furiously, and I was shaking. Finally with a clearer head I figured that Cat really didn't understand what I was saying about the basement and was too busy eating to see me go down the stairs. I must have looked like Death himself dragging that sleeping bag and the candle light casting flickering shadows across my face.
Now, after thinking some more, what scares me is that he might have something walking behind me that humans can't see!
Good Night and Sleep Tight!
---Update On The Scared Cat---
It was days before Cat came back after the ice storm. It was daytime again and he didn't hesitate much about coming in. He ate, I talked to him some (I'm the Cat Whisperer) and he wanted out so I let him out.
He came back at night and he was once again hesitant about coming in. So I did the can opener trick again and here he comes. Cat could eat a T-Bone steak and ten minutes later he's acting like he's starving. That silly Cat.
This time he only eats a few bites, which is unusual. But, then again, I figured maybe he was still full from earlier.
He went into the sun room by the back door and started growling. I had never in three years heard him growl, not even in the other house he didn't like. I tried to calm him but he kept moving about and growling. I knew he didn't want to be there so I let him out.
All this time I'm thinking about the basement ordeal trying to rationalize what's going on and trying to jutify it not being a paranormal event. I finally gave up and went about doing other things.
The next morning I go out to my small back deck to look across the woods, get fresh air, and watch the birds and squirrels. I turn to look the other way and looked down to see if the cat water dish needed more water. I got a chill from head to toe. There weres chunks of Cat's hair everywhere. It was on the deck and going down the first few stairs that go down to my back yard. I picked it up a clump for a closer look, thinking maybe it just looked like Cat's hair. But it definitely was.
The weird thing is that there wasn't a drop of blood! I don't know what to make of it. Surely a dog attack would've left blood. And Cat would have jumped off the deck to get away. There are two flights of stairs from the ground and the cat could not have gotten caught off gaurd with that set up. And I had been home the whole time and heard no ruckus. It's a small place and I would have heard. Cat has not come back and it's been a while. I'm worried. Even when out courting he gets hungry and comes home after two or three days.
I've thought that maybe a large owl from the woods flew down and grabbed him. Or maybe it was *something else* - I don't know.
Sweet Dreams
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I recently moved from a house that my outside cat named "Cat" did not like. He was very skittish about going in there. I once thought if he had time he would get used to it. So I left him in the house with food and water and went away for an hour or so.
When I came home he didn't run up to me. I looked under the furniture but couldn't find him. I finally looked in a bathroom and found him shaking in the bath tub with it's nose down at the drain hole. I wondered if it sensed something in the house.
My new place is on the other side of the woods from my old house and I think Cat found my new place by my five sets of wind chimes that are always ringing. I could not move him in the car because in his terror of the car he would have clawed me to pieces.
I was anxious to get Cat into my new place to see how he acted in there. The first time he came to eat was during the day. He came in and sniffed around and seemed to like the place. He ate his food and then disappeared for his usual two or three days. I guess he goes out hunting for girl cats!
When he came back was the first night after a bad ice storm. Power was out in most residential areas for days. It was pitch black dark as there were no street lights. Everything was coated with ice. Broken branches and trees were everywhere and it was slightly foggy. It was a creepy scene. I got in from work at night and went about looking for candles. Lights were on when I left for work so I didn't prepare for darkness or cold.
As I was hunting around Cat ran up to the back door for food, which startled me because I was creeped anyway. Always being glad to see him, I opened the door to let him in. This time he didn't want to come in. I use a manual can opener and when he heard that he came in anyway because he knows that menas food.
After putting the bowl on the floor Cat starts chowing down. I talk to Cat like a person and explained to him I had to go get a sleeping bag from the basement since I would need it to stay warm in bed without heat.
I go down and get the sleeping bag. It was unrolled, so since I was ready to get out of the basement I just draped the sleeping bag over my shoulder (kinda like Linus) and started up the stairs. I was carrying a candle and was holding it out in front of me so I could see. As I was coming towards the top few stairs Cat looked at me and jumped straight up in the air. He hit the ground running and ran into the back sun room where the plexiglass back door is. He then jumps about three feet into the air and into the door. He fell to the ground, ran around in circles and jumped into the door again. It scared me so bad I almost wet myself! I ran to let him out so he wouldn't hurt himself jumping into the door.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself. I was sweating, my heart was pounding furiously, and I was shaking. Finally with a clearer head I figured that Cat really didn't understand what I was saying about the basement and was too busy eating to see me go down the stairs. I must have looked like Death himself dragging that sleeping bag and the candle light casting flickering shadows across my face.
Now, after thinking some more, what scares me is that he might have something walking behind me that humans can't see!
Good Night and Sleep Tight!
---Update On The Scared Cat---
It was days before Cat came back after the ice storm. It was daytime again and he didn't hesitate much about coming in. He ate, I talked to him some (I'm the Cat Whisperer) and he wanted out so I let him out.
He came back at night and he was once again hesitant about coming in. So I did the can opener trick again and here he comes. Cat could eat a T-Bone steak and ten minutes later he's acting like he's starving. That silly Cat.
This time he only eats a few bites, which is unusual. But, then again, I figured maybe he was still full from earlier.
He went into the sun room by the back door and started growling. I had never in three years heard him growl, not even in the other house he didn't like. I tried to calm him but he kept moving about and growling. I knew he didn't want to be there so I let him out.
All this time I'm thinking about the basement ordeal trying to rationalize what's going on and trying to jutify it not being a paranormal event. I finally gave up and went about doing other things.
The next morning I go out to my small back deck to look across the woods, get fresh air, and watch the birds and squirrels. I turn to look the other way and looked down to see if the cat water dish needed more water. I got a chill from head to toe. There weres chunks of Cat's hair everywhere. It was on the deck and going down the first few stairs that go down to my back yard. I picked it up a clump for a closer look, thinking maybe it just looked like Cat's hair. But it definitely was.
The weird thing is that there wasn't a drop of blood! I don't know what to make of it. Surely a dog attack would've left blood. And Cat would have jumped off the deck to get away. There are two flights of stairs from the ground and the cat could not have gotten caught off gaurd with that set up. And I had been home the whole time and heard no ruckus. It's a small place and I would have heard. Cat has not come back and it's been a while. I'm worried. Even when out courting he gets hungry and comes home after two or three days.
I've thought that maybe a large owl from the woods flew down and grabbed him. Or maybe it was *something else* - I don't know.
Sweet Dreams