'Tis A Foggy Morn On The Marsh...

A low line of shore was visible at first on the right between the movement of the waves and fog, but when we came further it was lost sight of, and nothing could be seen but the mist curling in the rigging, and a small circle of foam.

~ John Millington Synge

I'm Sorry, What?

It never ceases to amaze how people butcher the English language. More and more, proper grammar usage seems to be a fading art. In my opinion, one of the biggest blemishes on our language was the advent of 'texting'. I am sure that there are texting proponents who would argue that the word simplifications used are a form of language. I, however, view them as the further dumbing down of America. Here is a definition that I found online:

"SMS language or Textese (also known as txtese, chatspeak, txt, textspeak, txtspk, txtk, texting language, or txt talk) is a term for the abbreviations and slang used in text messaging."

Am I guilty of using txtese myself? Yes, I admit it, but on a very limited level. Other than some of the usual suspects like lol, lmao, and brb, I don't use it. I will add that when I do use it, it is always as part of long form communication such as an e-mail. Not only does it seem a lazy form of communication, it fosters non-social behavior. Whatever happened to people engaging in nice healthy conversations? We do have a vocal language people! It has been serving us well for a looooooooong time.

Several months ago, I was out on an errand. I had the radio in the truck tuned to NPR. The host was interviewing a gentleman who was talking about words. He talked about how we English speaking people only use a limited number of words out of the vast array we have at our disposal. He also mentioned that hundreds of words get dropped from the English language yearly. Perfectly good words that have fallen into disuse. Salient words stricken from our dictionary's to be replaced by 'slangy' throwaways like 'chillax'. Absolutely criminal!

Those responsible for the Oxford Dictionary agree. www.savethewords.org is a web site they started to do just that. Their goal is to get people to "adopt" a word. To commit to doing their part in resurrecting one of the forgotten. If you care about the English language, I urge you to adopt one of your own.

My first word is: keleusmatically ~ in an demanding manner

Who's there?

I had already written an account of my second haunting experience (which in my personal time line was actually my first experience), and all of what I included did happen...I just don't care for the way I wrote it. I kept going back and editing...and re-editing...and re-editing...changing the phrasing, etc. I decided to start over with a posting I feel more happy with. Moving right along...

It was the mid-80's, and I had moved back to Atlanta after giving college a try. I was living with my mother and working for B. Dalton Bookseller. I got promoted to an assistant manager's position and transferred to the Toco Hills store where I met Sherry, the manager. We got along really well. We both had a love of Science Fiction & Fantasy...the store had a great SF&F section because of that fact. I had been working there for a little while, and during that time she got me involved with the SCA (the Society for Creative Anachronisms...we dressed in medieval garb and re-created the middle ages...that's the Reader's Digest description). Those were good days.

Anyway, things weren't that great with my living arrangements, so it was time to start looking for new digs. It just so happened that Sherry and her roommate (Michelle) had a small bedroom in the duplex they rented that was available. How convenient was that? The great part was that they were asking $80 a month for it. I would have been a maroon to not at least consider it. As I said, Sherry and I got along really well, and I was acquainted with Michelle through my SCA involvement. So I followed Sherry home after work to check things out.

The house was on 3rd Street in Mid-Town Atlanta. It was not far at all from where I had been living, as my mom rented a house in mid-town, too. Sherry had described her house as being rather old, and she hadn't been kidding. It was old, but really neat. Two-stories high, the two halves of the duplex set-up looked to be pretty equal in size. There was a long roofed porch that ran the width of the house. The front door to the unit I would be looking over had an ancient front door that had etched glass set into it. The inside of the place was really impressive. The stairs up to the second level were directly in front of the door when you walked in, and we entered into the living room which was huge with high ceilings, a big ornate fireplace, and a huge bay window. There was a dining room on the other side of the living room that had an entry way with columns to either side, and a smaller fireplace along it's back wall. The entrance to the kitchen was in a back corner of the dining room. It was really a beautiful place. The shame was that it obviously was housing a couple of uber-slobs. There was crap everywhere. Well not literally. (haha) That was something I hadn't known about Sherry. I just kind of looked past the mess to what lay beneath. There was something else. An energy to the place. Not negative or unwelcoming, but just kind of...off. Nothing I can properly articulate. Continuing the tour, Sherry led me upstairs to the bedroom I was there to scope out.

The stairs were rather creaky. The railing went up about ten steps, and ended into the wall. The remaining two-thirds or so of the steps had wall on both sides. Looking up to the top, I could see a door with a smoked glass window in it. That was the bathroom (which was really cool...it had a huge claw-foot tub in it that was awesome for taking relaxing baths...very roomy). There was a lighting fixture on the sloped ceiling over the stairs, but Sherry said that the bulb had been burned out for some time as it was a bitch to change. We got to the landing in front of the bathroom, and right next to that door was another door at kind of an angle. That was the door into the room for rent. Sherry had told me the bedroom was small, but once I saw it in person I seriously doubted that it was meant to be a bedroom. It looked more like a sewing room to me. It was about 10'x12' in diameter, and had two windows on the two outside walls. I could look down on the backyard of the house which was overgrown and green. The closet was tiny. After Sherry had told me about the room, I had already decided I would take it if it checked out okay. It had, so I wrote Sherry a check for the first month's rent. I would move in soon after that.

My brother helped me paint the room before I actually moved anything in. I did decorate with my usual amount of clutter, but the furniture was minimal enough to make it a very comfortable space. Sherry and Michelle's bedrooms were at the end of the hall that continued past my door and ran back towards the front of the house. The hallway dead-ended at Sherry's door, and Michelle's was on the left next door. Both of the girls kept their doors closed when they weren't in their rooms. Sherry had a cat that she kept cooped up in her bedroom 24/7. I felt bad for that cat. Sherry had not only turned out to be a messy slob, but a dirty one. By the time I was introduced to the feline it was kind of schizo. Sherry never cleaned the litter boxes she had in there, so the cat went anywhere and everywhere in her bedroom. In the earlier days of them co-habitating, Michelle would leave her door open. One day when they both were out, the cat got out of Sherry's bedroom and crapped in the middle of Michelle's bed. She kept her door shut after that.

A couple of days after I had moved in, I arrived home from work to find the house empty. I decided to take advantage of the absence of my roommates and take a long relaxing uninterrupted shower. I finished up, had turned the water off, and was drying off when I heard someone coming up the stairs. It appeared that one of the girls had come home. I heard them come up the stairs and turn to walk down the hall to their bedroom. I finished drying off, threw on my PJ's, and walked into my bedroom. Glancing down the hall, it was really dark. The shadows in that place were. They always seemed to be a bit darker than your usual shadows. I couldn't even see a sliver of light from under either of the closed doors. I called out their names and didn't get an answer. I felt pretty creeped out, and a chill ran through me. I know I had heard someone walk upstairs. No doubt in my mind. Walking into dark rooms in places I've lived has never been something I had ever been nervous about, but there was no way I was going to walk down that hall. Bottom line...I was freaked out. I went down to the living room, turned the TV on and the volume up, and stayed down there until someone came home. I remember not being able to look back at the stairs. It takes a lot to scare me, but I was absolutely on edge. A short time later, Michelle came home. That's when I found out that Sherry hadn't told me everything about the house.

Michelle was not surprised that I had an experience. If anything she was jealous because she had yet to have one. The news bulletin was that the house was haunted, and the 'ghost' would walk up and down the stairs. I hadn't ever witnessed anything that paranormal before, so it took me some getting used to. As I've mentioned in posts on here, I'm very open minded. Having said that, it threw me for a bit of a loop being front and center for an event like that without any prior warning or any prior experiences. Was it a deal breaker for me? Not at all. However, I really wish that Sherry had told me about it from the beginning. When Sherry got home I learned more. The manager of the downtown B. Dalton store (her name escapes me) had been the previous tenant, along with her husband and daughter. They were the ones that had turned Sherry onto the place when they were moving out after living there for quite a long time, and were very upfront with her about there being a ghost in the house. I had a number of questions about the ghost that my roomies couldn't answer, so I queried the previous tenants. They, too, were in the SCA, so I chatted them up at the next meeting...which was conveniently the next night. (The night of my "event", I slept with the lights on.)

Talking to the old tenants was a good move. Since they had lived there for a number of years, they had done their own investigating. The thought had crossed my mind about the neighbor just on the other side of the wall, and whether or not they had a staircase against that same wall. Maybe that was giving the illusion of a haunting? Nope. They had also asked the neighbors if they had experienced anything, but they had not. Looked like the haunting was specific to our digs. They got used to the presence. They said that it would go up and/or down the stairs at no specific time, but usually at night. They also felt that it would hang around sometimes at the top of the staircase outside of the bathroom because it would feel chilly right around there. The husband said that he had caught a glimpse of a shadow in that area a couple of times, as well. Having that discussion helped my mind set tremendously. I just wish I would have known about it prior to moving in so that I would have been prepared and not so freaked out witnessing things when I was home alone.

I lived there for about 8 months, and in that time I heard the footsteps pretty frequently. Michelle and I became good friends and on a couple of occasions when hanging out in my room she was finally able to witness our fourth roomie. I think it did excite her to think that she was living with a ghost. I remember one time when we were talking in my room, we heard the footsteps ascending the stairs. This was the only time I did this, but I was curious. I went out in front of the bathroom door and looked down the stairs. I could hear the creaking, but saw nothing. It was rather dark downstairs, so the stair well was really dark. Thankfully there wasn't any sort of contact made. I think if something had poked me or touched me in any way, I would've soiled myself. lol If Michelle hadn't been right there, I would never have gone out for a peek.

When I eventually moved out, it wasn't because of the haunting. True, I started closing my door when I went to bed, and there were a few times that the door was opened. There was no logical explanation for it either. The main reason for my moving out was drama. Three females living together can be a recipe for the dramatic, and I don't do drama very well.

Ophiuchus, The 13th Sign & 2012...

I know many have their ideas, theories, and even certainties of what will happen in 2012 in relation to the Mayan Calendar. If you ask me, none of us will know what's going to happen until the time comes. We'll all find out together. However, I will say that I doubt we'll all be wiped out of existence, and that the planet will burn up. Yes, an alignment is going to happen that hasn't happened for a long time. I just don't happen to believe that the horrible doom and gloom being promised by some individuals is what will actually happen. Anyway, I found this video posted on one of the sites I regularly visit, and I found it quite interesting. Thought others might find it interesting, too.

Spirited or, Tipping The Table...

As promised at the end of my entry about my 'Haunting experience', I am going to relate another truly incredible event that happened while I was living in that apartment. It was a dark and stormy night...just kidding...



It was around 1991. The accounting controller at my office went on maternity leave, and they hired someone to fill in for the few months she would be out. I had caught glimpses of Teresa (the fill in) here and there during her first couple of weeks on the job, and didn't officially 'meet' her until she came into the mail room to fax something(I was the Mail room Coordinator at that time). We were pretty chatty right off the bat and struck up a fast friendship. We both thought outside of the box about a lot of things, and the area of spirituality that revolves around metaphysics was one that intrigued us. Although I had witnessed/experienced my fair share of 'things' prior to meeting her, Teresa had quite a bit more under her belt....so to speak. In the beginning of our talks I told her about a past life regression I had been through about 7 years before. One night after work, she invited me over to hang out at her place. She had an apartment in Westchester by LAX. It was quite cluttered with stuff. Here and there was a crystal of some kind, and a few candles. So sitting by the light of a white candle she burned all of the time for the positive and cleansing light, we sipped wine and I told her the details about my regression. That's when she told me about a good friend of hers (it was long ago, but the name Steven is coming to mind) who was a hypno-therapist by profession, and who also performed past life regression hypnosis. Ever since my one regression, I had always wanted to have another one. A follow up, as it were. The first one was pretty darn vivid and I wanted to see if I saw any of the same things. Kind of a 'hypnotic state' validation. After all, he hadn't been there for the first one so he would have no idea what I saw that time (I was quite vocal, answering questions and the like). To say I was getting jazzed about what she was telling me was an understatement, but there was a catch. For me. I didn't know this guy and being hypnotized puts one in a very vulnerable state. I would have to have someone in the room with us...probably Teresa. I kind of back peddled a bit, and she kind of did some back peddling herself. Steven wasn't out and proud about doing regressions for people. Meaning that he had to get a sense of people...meet them...before he would consent to do the session. He was rather psychic, and although he wasn't skittish about his abilities, he really didn't put the fact/subject of the metaphysical aspect of his life out there to people who weren't open to it. He basically didn't like wasting his breath and time talking about it with people who didn't take what he said with any seriousness to at least the possibility of psychic energies existing. To tell the truth, I would want to get a 'vibe' on him before consenting, too. Teresa and I continued to talk about spiritual subjects, and it was then that she told me something else about Steven that I found intriguing. He did 'Table Tipping'.



Now, I had never heard of Table Tipping at that point. It has gained a new awareness with the popularity of paranormally based TV shows these days, but back then I was clueless. It is a form of spirit communications that dates back to the turn of the century. There is the school of thought that the movements of the table that are said to be created by spiritual contact are in fact created by the collective powers of the human mind. All I can truly speak to are my own personal experiences on the subject. Teresa filled me in on what Table Tipping was, and I was fascinated. Enough so to push thoughts of another regression session to the back burner, so I could pursue a possible Table Tipping experience. Meeting Steven for an 'analysis' so to speak still applied, so Teresa set it up for an evening after work a couple of days away.

To say I was excited about the meeting would be a gross understatement. Teresa and I left work at around 6:00 PM and made our way to her neck of the woods. We arrived at the bar Melody in Westchester and grabbed a table. I had visited this bar before. I was a huge Kings fan, and members of the team were known to hang out there. It rang true on a few occasions when I would see some of them in there. Anyway, Teresa and I ordered our drinks and waited, It was Happy Hour, so there were quite a few other patrons who had come straight there after work...lots of suits. Teresa saw Steven on the other side of the bar looking for us and went to get him. (As I'm telling this, it's so vivid in my mind. Doesn't seem like it happened 20 years ago...man, I feel old!) So they came over to the table and I shook hands with one of the most interesting people I had met in awhile. Steven looked to be in his mid-40's; shoulder length hair, and a brown kind of pointed-highly quaffed beard; several large stoned and bulky rings on his fingers; he used a cane...I can't remember what sort of ornament was on it, but there was one. I know he sounds kind of theatrical, but he wasn't. He didn't look like 'Master Thespian' at all. (hehehe) He was very warm and it didn't feel like it was our first meeting. At one point I had gone to the bar for a refill, and when Steven excused himself for a moment, Teresa told me that he really liked me and would love to hold a Table Tipping for me. I had goosebumps about the prospect. I've always been an explorer about things (but I will add that I do it smartly...nothing negative), so the prospect of this new experience had my mind racing. Steven's payment? Oh, just cook him dinner. I not only could do that, I could afford that. So we figured out what night he and Teresa would come over (it would just be the three of us), and he gave me instructions as to how to prepare my living room.

The day before my guests were coming over I had to do some shopping, not only for groceries but for 'cleansing'items. I popped over the hill to the valley for a visit to 'The Psychic Eye', my favorite metaphysical shop (there is a link to the Sherman Oaks location on my 'Links' page if you want to check it out). I needed white candles (4), and sandalwood incense, primarily. The big day was on a weekend which was a good thing. I needed to start the cleansing at least two hours before they arrived, so I decided to give it 4 hours. I listened to a lot of 'New Age' types of music, so I had that going. 'Basho's Pond', Kitaro...you get my drift. I started with the sandalwood incense - that's to rid a space of negative energy. Smells great, too. Then I set-up the candles. The point of the candles was to position them in the room at the base points of a pyramid. When you have them at the four points, you then light them in a clockwise fashion. As they burn, they are supposed to create a pyramidal shaped 'vortex'. That vortex is filled with positive energy, light, etc. All negativity is purged from that area. In retrospect, I would probably say that it was also supposed to act as a protected portal. Inside that pyramidal vortex is where the Table Tipping would take place. I had the front door open, so the warm night air was coming in along with the usual sounds of life in the neighboring buildings. (Again, this is all so vivid as I'm typing it.) The big tree outside was helping set the perfect mood. Whatever energies were moving through my small collection of rooms felt very positive and empowering, and intermingled with the scents of the incense and the beef stroganoff on the stove. Gradually I could make out a couple of voices approaching up the driveway, and a few moments later heard the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Teresa entered, followed by Steven who had a special item in tow. The table he used for his Tipping sessions. It was a fairly non-descript table. Not very big with a round top that was...I want to say between 2 and 3 feet across (my mental measurements are usually off a bit). It had 3 feet on it, and...that pretty much describes it. It did look quite old. I poured them some wine and Steven looked over my prep job and was impressed. Apparently some people had a tendency to go overboard...of course, he didn't see the bay leafs I kept in the corners of the room. (hehe) An interesting side note, is that Steven walked through my apartment in search of the facilities and picked up on my 'roomie'. I hadn't even mentioned it. It became part of our dinner conversation. By the end of the meal, I was excited but nervous, too. Yeah, I had been told what Table Tipping was, but I really didn't know what to expect. So we all grabbed a chair from the dining table and positioned them around the table that Steven placed in the center of the vortex. After making ourselves comfortable, we began.

Steven instructed Teresa and I to place our fingers on the edge of the table from the second knuckles to our finger tips. Steven sat with his eyes closed, his breathing getting deeper and the breaths getting farther apart. I had turned the music off, so it was pretty quiet inside with us. I thought I felt the table shudder a little, but wasn't sure. Then Teresa asked Steven if he was feeling anything. He could feel a number of energies, but it was as if he was waiting for something to 'tune in'. All of a sudden it started to get cooler. Teresa's teeth practically started chattering. I was a little cool, but not that cold. The table trembled a little stronger and my fingers started getting cold. Not cool, but cold. Teresa was freezing and Steven said that a spirit was right on her. Nothing bad, but it was trying to reach her specifically. I have to admit that I had some goose bumps. I mean, she was sitting right next to me. Our knees were touching. The spirit, although very present, never came through any clearer than to say that her name was Sarah. Teresa was really having trouble with the cold, so Steven told her to tell Sarah to go. She did, and she warmed up some. (I was fascinated, but not bowled over by things at that point. Not to say that I didn't believe that a spirit was there.) Then Steven asked if there was anyone there that wanted to speak? He then said he could make out a figure, and that's when the table started to move.

Okay, I'm going to interject here before the eye-rolling begins. Is it possible for people to fake the presence of spirits with this communication method? Yes. Watch episodes of 'Most haunted' on the Travel Channel and you'll see some blatant acts of fakery. I'm not easily taken in. I'm an observant person. I am going to comfortably and whole heartedly state that I believe what happened at my apartment on that night. I do not believe in any way shape or form that it was fake. That table did things that could NOT be faked. Well, maybe some of the guys at ILM could have, but nothing was faked during that session. Back to the story...

In the beginning, the table...well, the best way I can describe it is that it 'hopped' a bit. It did rock some, but it also moved uncharacteristically for how the legs were placed. It was moving in deliberate but small ways at first. Steven still sat with his eyes closed, which he did for the entire session. He said that the erratic movements of the table were because a few energies were trying to come to the front. They wanted to speak. I was a bit bashful to ask anything at first, so Teresa asked a couple of things. It was a help listening to her as I learned how to phrase my questions. Questions needed to be answerable with 'yes' or 'no'. The spirits would use the table to answer. When it rocked back and forth, that meant 'yes'. If the answer was 'no' the table would stop moving at all. If the answer was unclear or maybe, it would kind of rock around in a circle or more chaotic fashion. As Teresa and Steven asked questions the table got more and more animated, but then it was almost like a switch had been flipped. The table just...stopped. Steven had been 'watching' things with whatever psychic abilities he possessed, and when the table stopped he seemed perplexed. I took the opportunity to try removing my fingers from the table, and of course they came away easily which oddly enough surprised me. Why? Because my fingers had felt frozen to the table for the time up to that point. They had not budged. AT ALL. Teresa took my cue and rubbed her hands together. Steven's eyes were open and he looked at the two of us with a "hmmmmm" expression on his face. He said that he didn't know why they had stopped answering questions, but spirits were around. They weren't leaving. Even I could feel 'something' in the room. Steven had to visit the loo, so Teresa and I just sat there and got in a stretch or two. Table Tipping had proved kind of stressful on the arms. So Steven comes back and is standing at the end of my sofa. He decides to query them without the table. He tells Teresa and I to put our fingers on the table. He then asks if he can ask some questions. The table doesn't move, and he doesn't report a response. He asks if they will answer any questions, and then something chilling happened. Not necessarily in a good or bad way, just...chilling. The table tips right at me and plops in my lap. Let me remind you that Steven is standing by the end of the sofa. Teresa is sitting directly to my right and there is no way she could have done it without it being noticeable. Plus, I saw her reaction. I was stunned. Steven even showed surprise. He then looked at me and said, "They say they are only here for Lisa...only questions from Lisa." I think every hair on me was at attention by that time. I had been hopeful of some activity happening, but this was kind of blowing my mind. I started trying to ask questions. My mind was racing, so I was a bit slow on the uptake. Steven had returned to his chair and was watching in his minds eye again. I don't exactly remember what I said, but since I was having a hard time getting into the groove I said something jokingly that made Teresa laugh. The table slowed a bit, and I apologized saying that I had a tendency to be sarcastic. I thought the table was going to break off a leg after that. It started moving back and forth with such force that it was banging into me. Apparently, they agreed. (lol) I could keep going on in relatively great detail, but I don't think my fingers can get through that amount of typing. I'll hit the high notes through the actual Tipping. My questions got better and more purposeful after I got over the initial shock of what was happening. The table would get away from us. It's movements were so odd and chaotic that it would move away from us. Almost like it was walking away. Steven and I both had to get up from our chairs and move it back into the middle of the three of us. About half way through the session, Steven told me that he could see them. In his minds eye he could see a table with four figures seated at it. On one side were seated two women and one man. On the other was one man. Steven said that the three were my guardian spirits, and the man was me. For me to be seen as a man...that's not uncommon, for a man to be seen as a woman and vise versa.

They were coming through so strongly because they had been wanting to communicate with me. That's what Steven said. I've done my share of meditating and such, but it appeared that my guardian spirits wanted to have more of an up close and personal Q&A with me. Even though I could only ask 'Yes' or 'No' questions, they were surprisingly direct. Not just about me, but about people I knew and was close to. One particular friendship they said was bad (turned out they were right). I remember much of it, but it's all pretty personal. Not feeling in the mood to share any of it at the moment.

Steven was pretty exhausted, as I know we all were. We were 'engaged' for a couple of hours. Didn't feel that long though. At the tail end, Steven indicated a pottery candle holder I have that had a candle burning in it. 'They' said that I can contact them whenever that candle is burning. So, efficiently overwhelmed and energetically exhausted, I bid farewell to my two pooped guests. I gave Steven a hearty thank you hug for the incredible evening and experience. On Steven's suggestion, I lit another stick of incense and snuffed the candles counter-clockwise this time. Then I closed up and locked up everything, leaving the dishes until the morning. My mind was absolutely brimming with all kinds of thoughts. Trying to take in everything that had happened. I was to soon discover that my evening hadn't ended yet...

I changed into my night clothes, and stood in the middle of my living room for a moment. There was a kind of electricity filling my apartment. A pleasantly prickly energy. Almost more prevalent was the feeling of not being alone. This wasn't like the feeling the 'ghost' gave me. I found myself looking over my shoulder, like I would see some...one? I just kept expecting to see something. It wasn't unease, but at the same time it...was. Now that Steven and Teresa were gone, I was soaking it all in solo. It was proving to be...I don't know how to articulate it. I switched the TV on and turned the volume down. Thought I'd leave it on overnight, but decided that the voices would be too disconcerting. Finally, I just chuckled everything off and closed up shop for the night. It had all been very positive, just...different. That's all. Entering the bedroom, I stretched and laid down.

Internally I felt really alive. Although I was extremely tired, I felt full of energy. My body relaxed quickly, and I waited for dreamland. It was then that I felt a pull. As if something had reached inside me and had begun drawing me out. I felt myself start to float up...and out.



I swear I sensed the ceiling. I felt weightless and ethereal. I freaked out! I couldn't speak or move my body, yet I was moving. It felt like I was becoming unrestrained, unconfined...I was leaving myself. To say it was terrifying...Immediately, I knew what was happening. I was trying to leave my body. To astral project. It wasn't something I had done before (consciously, anyway), and I wouldn't even know how to start. I managed to scramble back, and then it started happening again. Whatever was happening, I wasn't ready for it. I couldn't 'let go'. Who knows? Maybe it's something I've done before. Many times. Times when I wasn't conscious. The thing that freaked me out was that I hadn't gone to sleep yet. At least to me I hadn't. I decided to get up and watch some TV. Several hours later, I woke up on the living room sofa. One of the first things I did was call Teresa and tell her what had happened after she and Steven had left. About a half hour after I hung up with her, my phone rang. It was Steven. Teresa had called him. He didn't think it odd at all. I had experienced a high energy psychic/spiritual event, and the vortex had been in my living room. If anything he sounded disappointed that I hadn't 'gone with' the astral projection. He was convinced that I was being taken on a journey. That I was going to be shown something. After hanging up with him, I started feeling like I HAD jipped myself. What's the worst that could have happened if I had just let go and floated through the ceiling to whatever destination I was headed to? I did try a few times to see if I could tap into whatever it had been again, but to no avail. But as I said, I can't be sure that it wasn't a dream. I guess I'll just have to keep wondering...

Next installment: a haunting in Atlanta. The one other haunted living arrangement I was in.

Lazaris...

A couple of days ago I shared a rather haphazard caffeine induced ramble that ended up being mostly about an experience I had in the mid-90's when I attended an "Evening With Lazaris". Lazaris is an entity(ies) that Jach Pursel has been channeling since the mid-70's. My few hours sitting in a room full of people watching and listening was absolutely fascinating. While on YouTube looking for something else, I decided to type in Lazaris to see what would pop up. One of the first things listed was this appearance by Jach and Lazaris on the Merv Griffin Show of all places. Interesting stuff. Lazaris explains his/its/their purpose.

What The Hell Is That?

Decided to share a story from my past that some might find interesting. It happened in the early 90's while I was living in the Los Angeles area.

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Living in Sherman Oaks in "the valley" had gotten old. My commute to work was a pain, and I felt rather disconnected from things. It was around 1990-91, and my friends (the ones I actually socialized with) lived in Hollywood on the 'fun' side of the hills. The thought of moving was becoming more and more prominent in my mind.

One day at work, I struck up a conversation with a co-worker of mine, Kathi, in the office kitchen. We were both waiting for the current pot of java to finish brewing. The subject of life in my neck of the woods not being that great came up, and Kathi mentioned that her neighbor had moved out of the unit right next to her. It was located in West Hollywood, the rent was around $350 a month (rent control), and it was pretty much available right away. At $350 a month I would have been an absolute maroon to not at least look at the place, so she put me in touch with the owner/landlord. She had a key (she had lived in her apartment for many years at that point), so it was scheduled that I would go by and take a look after work.

I had spent some time in "WeHo" (I absolutely hate when people call it that). Part of Hollywood, it's a very 'happening' area. Lots of apartments, many of the buildings quite old. The building I was headed to for the apartment viewing was no exception. All of the neighbors living there had lived there for years, and I do mean YEARS. The only unit with any turnover was the one I was looking at. There is a rather colorful tale about John, the owner/manager who was deceased by that time, that I may relate another time. Another interesting story is about another one of the tenants who had been married to Edward G. Robinson, Jr. He passed away in the apartment there. Very sad. He and his wife had all kinds of celebs dropping by at all hours. It was not uncommon to see Stars like Marilyn and Tab Hunter coming and going. I had been there once before (had borrowed a sewing machine from Kathi), so I knew where to go. The front building was one-story, and had three units that followed the length of the driveway to the back building where I was headed. That building also had three units, one on the bottom (a really unpleasant guy lived there...he had at one time been on General Hospital, and was having a hard time accepting the fact that he no longer was an actor and that he was aging), and two on top. This picture is of that building. Kathi lived in the unit with the beige fenced deck. The unit I was checking out was on the walkway with the railing by the big tree. (The tree kind of obscures the front door.) So I climbed the slightly steep steps and tapped on Kathi's door. She popped out with the keys and we unlocked the front door of what was to be my new home.




It was really small, but comfortable enough for one person. It was kind of a divided square. The front door opened into the living room; the bedroom was through a doorway to the right; straight ahead was a doorway in the middle of a built-in bookcase that lead into the dining/kitchen area; the bathroom was kind of in the north-eastern most corner of the square. Like I said, small but comfortable enough for one. Now that I've laid out the...well, the 'layout', I'll mention the vibe. There was definitely something about the place, but it wasn't anything I could define. Nothing unpleasant, just something...different. All things considered, I took it. I think I was about 75% towards renting the place sight unseen, so it wasn't a hard or lengthy decision making process. The landlord was called, and the paperwork would be taken care of the next day. Feeling very excited, we locked up and headed off to 'Japon' for sushi (it would become a regular haunt for Kathi and me).

Moving is always a pain in the ass (at least in my experience), but I was never so excited to move. The apartment I rented in Sherman Oaks wasn't actually that far removed from things, but it felt like I was moving in from the sticks. Being in the heart of Hollywood was where I wanted to be. With a little help from some friends, I made the move and began to settle in. I really did love being in my new surroundings. However, that vibe I mentioned earlier was always there. Nothing I could really articulate, but it was just...there. Something was 'there'. There were more life sounds around. Neighbors clanging dishes in their kitchen; the a-hole downstairs having loud get-togethers; helicopters flying around all night making it sound like downtown Beirut; sirens from the fire station down the street. Plus, I was in an old building. It had creaks and pops. I just kind of chalked it all up to the new digs, and left it at that.

The odd sensations increased over time. Some days were more 'active' than others. I would be washing dishes in the kitchen and it would feel like something moved past behind me. I would be lying in bed, and it would feel like something was next to the bed. Was it my imagination? Figured it probably was, but I am a very open person. I just pick up on things some times. Not knowing what to make of any of it, I just shrugged it all off and enjoyed my new pad. Until one particular evening...




One evening after work, I was watching a little TV and unwinding after a long day. I was sitting on the sofa, sipping a beer, with my feet up on the coffee table. To my right was the doorway into the dining area. That was the first time I saw 'it'. In my side vision I saw a non-descript figure in the doorway. I jumped and looked to the opening. Nothing was there. My heart was pumping a little quicker, but after the initial shock I was intrigued. Sure, it could be my imagination. What if it wasn't? I had been having "feelings" since I had moved in. Over the next couple of weeks, I would catch some more glimpses of a figure (always out of the corner of my eye), and it took more shape. Well, actually the second time I saw it there was more of an image than a 'blob' there. It had to be a male because I could see the hint of a beard. White puffy shirt, knee length pants, and stockings. Almost immediately, I thought 'Conquistador'. That's what he looked like. A rather disheveled one, but a Conquistador nonetheless. This picture kind of illustrates what I saw, only take away the hat, chest armor, and sword. (If one were to see a spirit/ghost/apparition of a Conquistador, it would make perfect sense to see one in southern California. If I'm not mistaken, Spanish Conquistadors were in the southern regions of California as far back as the 1500's.)




Ya know, I've got quite a vivid imagination, but I was NOT making this up...consciously or subconsciously. Seeing it once might have made me think it was a figment of my imagination, but I saw it several times. The first times I saw 'him' were in that bookcase doorway in the living room. The first time I saw him by my bed shocked the crap out of me. At no point had I ever felt anything negative from the 'apparition', but there is a vulnerability one feels when confronted with something like that while lying in bed. He was never extremely defined when I saw him. He wasn't clear like a Polaroid. He was just there, always in my peripheral vision. That night in my bedroom I was looking straight at him and he was maybe four feet away. I had been reading a book, and all of a sudden he was there looking at me like he was trying to tell me something. Not vocally, but through his...energy. It lasted for maybe...15, 20 seconds? Right around there. That may not sound like a long time, but sit and count that out (one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand...). When you're in the moment it feels like a lot longer. I may have made my sightings sound like they happened every day. They did not. They did happen frequent enough though. I felt a presence more than I saw one.

One Saturday I was doing some housework, and I had my front door open. I frequently left my door open as Kathi and I went back and forth to each other's apartments all the time. Especially when I heard her blender going...Margarita time. That particular day, Kathi wasn't home. Anyway, I heard a tap on my front door. A friend of Kathi's who I had met briefly once before had stopped in to see her and found that she was not at home. Since my door was open, he decided to stop by and say hello. It so happened that he had been the tenant in my apartment right before me. We were chatting for a few minutes when I decided to bring up my 'roomie'. I hadn't mentioned any of my sightings to anyone. Figured it best to keep things to myself. You never know who might believe you, or who might think you had gone off your rocker. So...I asked him. "I'm just curious, but did you ever see anything in this apartment when you lived here?" His eyes got a little wider, and he got a little paler. His response sent chills up my spine. "You've seen him?" Half of me felt elated that I wasn't going nuts, and the other half felt a tad freaked out because I had just gotten some validation for what I had been seeing.

"Yes, I've seen the man. Mostly in the living room, but also in the bedroom.", I said. He proceeded to describe the figure to me EXACTLY as I had seen it. He described seeing the man in the bedroom, as well, only his experience seemed a bit more intense as the figure got a bit more in his face with the urgency deal. (I have to say that I was relieved that I hadn't had that experience, but then I wondered if it was some 'haunted' fun to come? Oh goody...

We were both relieved, I think. We told Kathi about what we had seen. She hadn't seen anything in her apartment. I found that odd since she and I had nothing but a wall between our bedrooms. Why was the "ghost" so centered on my unit, and not the building as a whole? For a Milli-second I thought about asking my downstairs neighbor if he had seen anything, but him being such a pleasant fellow I thought better of it. He and I had been getting along for the most part, and the last thing I needed was for him to brand me a kook and put me in his cross hairs along with other neighbors (he was quite the bitcher and moaner). I lived in that apartment for a couple of years before moving into a nearby building. During my time there, I did see the apparition several more times in the living room, but I grew somewhat accustomed to his presence there. As I mentioned, I didn't ever feel anything negative there. In retrospect, I wish I had tried to do some EVP recordings to see if I could get any sort of vocal evidence. Maybe I could have answered some of the questions I had.

That is the most intense "ghost" experience I've ever had. Some may believe it, some may not. Some may have had experiences of their own. I'm just feeling the need to share some of the more...'unique' experiences I've had. There will definitely be more to come. I've got another one to share next that happened while I was living in that apartment, as well. It's of a different nature than this one. But, as I said...that'll be in my next installment...