Just call me Ms. Pacbutton

Here's something you might not know about me, I LOVE ghosts. I like talking about them, reading stories about them, and even watching shows about them. Unless it's sports I actually don't watch much TV, I'd prefer to snuggle up with my laptop or a book but every week I make sure to sit down and watch Ghost Hunters  and not just because (despite his Red Sox fandom) I would run away with Steve Gonsalves in a heart beat.

I promise that Mr. Button is aware of this and does not feel threatened in the slightest for one simple reason. Trust? Love? Shackles? Maybe, but the fact of the matter is running away with me would absolutely kill his ghost hunting career. You see, for as much as I love ghosts they don't seem to love me in return.

I know, it's a hard pill to swallow. I may not be as cute as yesterday's piece of toast but  they don't call me Button for nothing and I'm already a muse. These are the things I put in my cover letter to show potential employers how fantastic I am for crying out loud!

The truth is that my entire life whenever I have gone somewhere where someone claims to have witnessed paranormal activity it all stops. Now, I'm sure on more than one occasion it was someone pulling my leg with a tall tale but I can't imagine that with everyone.

For example, I lived with my ex-boyfriend and his father for 3 years. His family claimed his house was haunted by the man who built it. His mother, his father, even his grandmother and some cousins said they had experiences there. Phantom smells, foot steps, shadows, being touched in the night, I think someone even claimed to have seen a man who couldn't possibly be there. As soon as I moved in everything seemed to stop, the only time I was ever spooked in the house was when I was alone in the house one morning and our cat rattled the bathroom door so loud while I was in the shower it sounded like someone was trying to turn the handle on the locked door. The kicker seems to be that the activity resumed shortly after I moved out.

This isn't to say that I don't scare easily. I can get paranoid as all hell when I'm home alone though I'm usually thinking about serial killers (another subject I'm fond of reading about) when I hear a creak in the hallway. If I happen to round a corner and nearly bump into someone I didn't expect to be there my heart won't beat regularly for five minutes after the incident. I'm not too fond of the dark unless I'm snuggled up in bed with Mr. Button and the thought of small spaces, bunnies, clowns, puppets or Christopher Walken gives me chills.

I'm sleeping with the light on tonight.

The haunted graveyard, haunted house, haunted patch of forest and haunted coffee shop that were all highly recommended to us while we were in high school never panned out. Places that have web forums dedicated to them that are teaming with stories about creepy experiences don't even give me goosebumps.   I'm well aware that most stories are probably exaggerations or complete fabrications but I'd rather not live in a world where everyone is completely full of it. Instead I'd prefer to entertain the idea that I've got some sort of built in ghost repellent.

It's probably for the best, I'm not sure how I'd survive baseball season with a red sox fan.

What about you? Any interesting ghost stories?