Day 8 – Personal Ghost Story

Reading: NOT the House of Leaves!!!! Finished it today… I feel accomplished for not losing my mind or breaking my record of never throwing a book but …..

Watching: Monty Python’s Flying Circus I <3 IFC

Eating: Good freaking question…. it's dinner out night, my turn to pick and I have no clue what I want.

Personal ghost story? Why is it that the skeptics always get the good stories? I have lived in South Eastern Colorado, I spent a week in St. Edward’s University’s Premont Hall (yes, it’s the boys’ dorm), I have been to the Hotel Colorado, and all I have to show for it are three “vignettes” with no climax, no action and not even a proper ghost.

The first was when I was in the third grade. In my school the classrooms were always locked during lunch. But one day, after standing in the hall waiting for our teacher to unlock the door (which had to be locked and unlocked with the key, there wasn’t any other way and the teacher, principal and janitor had the only keys), we found that the room had been … well, ransacked may be a strong word but things were definitely not as they had been when we all left. Books were on the floor, chairs were turned over, there was scribbling all over the chalkboards.

The second was when I was eleven. I had a bunch of friends over for my birthday (which is dia de los muertos…should be a super day for a ghost story but alas….no). My house when I was a kid had a laundry room kind of centrally located in the middle of everything and that’s where we kept the cat’s…. food, water, sandbox. My friends and I were telling scary stories (most of which we had stolen from Alvin Schwartz’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark series) and we heard what sounded like the cat (at the time we had cat singular) scratching in the sandbox. But while we were hearing that noise, the cat walked into the room from the other end of the house.

And the last was when I was about sixteen. I was home alone one night and entertaining myself with a book and some music in my living room when I hear a loud crash in my bedroom. I go to investigate and find that my glass Snoopy change bank, which probably weighed 12-15 pounds and had been sitting on a shelf pushed back against the wall (because that was what kept the shelf in place) was on the other side of the room and everything that had been on the shelf was lying on my bed…. but the shelf was still where it belonged. I mention that because before I put the bank on the shelf it had had a tendency to jump off it’s brackets, spilling everything everywhere. But that night the weight and contents were discarded but not the shelf.

See what I mean about anti-climactic?

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