Ghoulies and Ghosties and Long-Leggedy Beasties

I generally don’t watch much TV unless it’s got the word “Survivor” or “Rock Hard Abs” in the title. But with the kids sucking up the bedroom last night and Babycakes World of Warcrafting on the computer, I flipped on the TV to a show called ‘MonsterQuest’ and found them investigating the Lizzie Borden House in Massachusetts. My good friend Lucy has been trying to talk me into spending a night at the Lizzie Borden House for a while. Our conversations go like this:

Lucy: Let’s go stay at the Lizzie Borden House!

Alice: No.

I’m all about visiting during high noon with plenty of people forming a safety circle around me, but come evening, I’ll be at the HoJo’s with cable reruns of ‘The Brady Bunch’ and a normal heart rate.

With all their fancy infrared cameras and audio equipment, MonsterQuest didn’t really prove anything, but they sure know how to edit a bunch of nothing into a flood of endorphins and creeping scalp. And then the cat goes into alert mode at nothing on the stairwell. That’s it, flip on all the lights.

Here is my great brain divide: in my heart of hearts, I don’t really believe in ghosts. In my heart of hearts, if I think my house is even remotely haunted, the FOR SALE sign goes up tomorrow. I’ve seen Poltergeist and I’m no fool.

About seven years ago, my friend Jill was getting married over in Virginia and I was in the wedding party. Her Mom had a house near the wedding site and she invited me to spend the night there before the wedding the next day. It was an older, Colonial-era house that had been revamped and was completely lovely.

We eat, do some small talk, and start gathering bags to head upstairs for bed. Jill’s brother pipes up, “Did you tell her about the ghost?”

Alice: (WTF! – He didn’t just say that right before I head upstairs. At night. With no HoJo’s around.) *expression halfway between disbelief and grimace crosses face*

Jill’s Mom: Oh, don’t worry, it’s a nice ghost.

I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s Caspar bringing me flowers – I DON’T DO HAUNTED!

They all start talking about cold spots and candlesticks moving and all I wanted to do was put my hands over my ears, close my eyes and say ‘LALALALA….CANT’ HEAR YOU…’

Jill and I are sleeping in the same room (thankfully). I lie down, clamp my eyes shut and vow not to open them until morning. Around 2 am, all the liquid at dinner is screaming at me to find a toilet.

Nope. I can hold it another 4-5 hours for daylight.

And this is where I discovered that NOT peeing on someone’s furniture trumped possibly seeing an apparition. With head down, I ran to the bathroom and took the fastest whizz I ever took and jumped back into bed. I tell you it's possible to do this fast enough that you will miss any paranormal activity around you.

And I can safely say that I was not visited that night because of my massive mental powers of dissuasion that I was throwing off. Y’all might have felt them.

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Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave Humor-Blogs 40 whacks...