Tuesday, October 29, 2013


I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t notice if my house was occupied by a poltergeist. Haunting my family would be a frustrating experience. I actually feel sorry for any spooky creature that tries to mess with us. On any given day I am either 1. Too tired to notice or 2. Too tired to give a shit. I have a thirteen-year-old mischievous boy I am trying to parent without violence. It takes a lot to get a rise out of me.

With the Halloween season upon us, my television is inundated with programs detailing horrifying accounts of based-on-true stories of ghostly happenings. Instead of watching these shows and being scared, I am left with a sickening realization. I am a mediocre host to the living, but to the dead I must be a nightmare. If I woke every morning to wide-open cabinet doors in my kitchen, moved car keys, and lights mysteriously turned on – I would be oblivious. I live with two teenagers. Shit like that happens all fucking day and most nights. If I paused to analyze who-did-what and Why are these people torturing me? I would have fled this spooky house long ago.

If you ask me, haunted houses on TV really don’t deviate from the norm. Weird sticky substances oozing from the walls freak you out? Move on, bleach cleaner and disposable wipes will take care of that problem. Pet cemetery? Been there, done that. Fluffy is buried two feet under and isn’t going anywhere. Lately, I’ve even stopped having pet funerals. Now I tell the kids I buried their pet under the tree in the backyard when I really just dumped their beloved animal’s carcass into a plastic grocery bag, knotted it, and shoved it to the bottom of the garbage can.
Are you kidding me? Now this just pisses me off (no pun intended).

Who doesn’t have an occasional disruption in the electromagnetic field of their home? Yes, our electronic devices act strange. But I’m pretty sure it has to do more with the fact that tech gadgets in my home are regularly dropped in the toilet and are fed a steady diet of spilled caffeinated beverages.  My printer often springs to life with unprovoked grunting noises. Don’t be alarmed. I attribute the unexplained behavior to its primary use as a very functional, yet expensive, cat bed. Just be warned, nothing that enters this house leaves without first undergoing some sort of metaphysical change. By the way, as seen in the photo, one of our cats peed on the printer while I was writing this. Now that is spooky.

Let me tell you about the shit that happens when I’m not home. Unfortunately, we do not have hidden cameras in my house. I wish we did, but not because I want to document a poltergeist. If I had recorded last Tuesday, for example, I’d fast-forward past anything supernatural and skip to the part where our morbidly obese cat Patches fell through the top of the bearded dragon lizard tank.

How do I know this happened if I wasn’t there? No, I’m not psychic. Nor did I consult a spiritual advisor from another realm. Scientific evidence. I came home to a busted screen on the top of the tank. This also happens to be Patches’ favorite nap spot. There were tufts of cat hair stuck to the inside walls of the tank. The lizard was jacked up and pacing (but fortunately had not escaped). The cat was nowhere. Later she mysteriously reappeared, behaving a bit more neurotic than usual.

I feel cheated out of what would have certainly been a viral video. I’d much rather watch a fifteen pound feline get beat up by a lizard in a glass tank, than say, watch a floating light orb bob across a room or a ghostly face appear in a doorway. I’m just saying. A measly ghostly apparition can’t hold a candle, séance or otherwise, to my real life series of strange events.

I do have some advice to any spooky visitors. Gosh, I just hate being a bad host. If you want to get my attention – try cleaning something around here. Do the dishes. Feed the damn cats.  Feel free to lift, spin, and rearrange the furniture while sweeping. Just please note: If one more creature, dead or alive, leaves their shoes in the middle of the hallway in an attempt to trip me while I’m blindly hauling a towering load of laundry across the house, be afraid. Be very afraid. I’m coming for you.

1 comment:

  1. Hi, Cece! Great post. Send me an email because I no longer have a working email address for you.