Friday, July 20, 2012

F this S.

Talking with Phyllis has gotten me nowhere.

For those of you who are playing catch up, my family moved into a haunted house three weeks ago and it's way less cool than you'd imagine.

Yesterday sucked.

As I was cleaning The Kid's [completely empty] room yesterday, I got shot by a toy projectile.  It didn't hurt, the sun was up, and I was barely even annoyed--certainly not freaked out.

Fast forward to last night. 

The Kid, The Hubby, and the dogs were all in bed.  I stayed up late watching a National Geographic documentary on PBS (ok, it was Showtime, and it wasn't so much a documentary as a reality show--there were boobs, though) and headed upstairs around 12:30. 

As I was brushing my teeth, I heard a noise.  It sounded like it could have been an alarm coming from outside.  I ignored it for a few seconds, and then I realized that it was coming from inside the house (just like the babysitter in that urban legend!).  I put down my toothbrush and walked into the hall, trying to follow the high-pitched "dun....dun...dun......dun..dun". 

My ears brought me directly into The Kid's room, where he was still sleeping, blissfully unaware.  As I zeroed in on the sound, I realized that it was coming from this:

I took this today, in broad daylight. I did put it back exactly as I found it last night, though.
The piano book was playing.  By itself.  One note, over and over and over.  As soon as I stood in front of the bookcase and discovered where the sound was coming from, it went silent, even before I touched it.


I was really freaked out.  Not sure what to do, I picked up the book, woke up The Hubby, and told him what happened.  He mumbled an "Oh yeah?" and rolled back over to sleep.  I put the possessed book in the guest room and tweeted until I was tired enough to fall asleep myself.

This was the last straw.  I am tired.  Sleep is important to me.  I do not have time for this crap.  I just want to live here, guys.  I do NOT want to move again any time soon.

Today, after a suggestion from blogger Ian, I contacted TAPS (tv's Ghost Hunters) through their website.  At Joshua's suggestion, I had The Hubby visit our friendly local occult store and pick up some sage on the way home so that we could burn it and cleanse the house.
Not a joint.  Sage.
The Kid and I did not miss even a corner of a closet with that sage smoke, and you know what?  I think it worked.  It just feels different in here now.  As I was making a final pass around the back porch, I looked around and it felt like I was looking at the house for the first time.  Everything looked new. 

Let's just assume this worked, shall we?  I'm ready to move on.  Let's hope that Phyllis is too. 
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