Jared, the Coca-Cola Truck, and How I May Have Been a Middle-School Catfish. Or a Ghost Summoner.

When I was 13 I developed body odor and an obsession with the Ouija Board. I think in that order and at the same overnight visit to Lauren's house.

Sara, Lauren, and I met in middle school art class and in between drawing circle people and perspective city-scapes, the two of them spent every class, willingly or no, listening to my unverified theories that perhaps all of Def Leppard are deaf and like super Beethovens that are way into cats and either bad spellers or the cool kids that are smart but pretend they can't spell. I also spoke loudly on my conviction that N.W.A. was named after an airline. I'm pretty sure they had some bet going over who could stand my idiot stories the longest without laughing. Maybe there was a Dr. Pepper on the line. Whatever it was, I eventually infiltrated their clique of friends like Ebola, spreading my ignorance and lies to the furthest reach. Miraculously, I was never beaten up. 

The year was 1989 - please don't sue me Taylor Swift, I cannot erase that year of my embarrassment as much as we would both like for me to. We ALL would like for me to, but alas. So, 1989, possibly 1988 but we're not going to squabble because when I start doing the math on my age I begin to sweat and grow even older. It's like that merry-go-round  in Something Wicked This Way Comes, all fun and games until your skin wrinkles and dusts off of your skeleton in a pile of ash and sadness. 

Where was I? Oh, 1989. Sleep-over at Lauren's house. We had just finished watching a rented vhs copy of The Exorcist which even at the time we all knew was a bad idea but none of us wanted to admit it to the others. Or maybe that was my projection of the psychological terror and superb level of uncool little kid that I was feeling because I was scared. And if I'm scared, you all better be equally scared and ready to gossip or we can't be friends. Well, we can still be friends 'cause I like to feel popular, but I swear to god you keep your macabre to yourself because if you decide to "hahah" "tee hee" scare me I will not be the cool, calm, fun-loving Amy character I obsessively try to portray. I will take you down violently and by the crotch if I am able.

What I'm saying is, don't scare me. I have a brand I'm trying to sell. Jesus.

So anyway, we get done watching The Exorcist and decide to dress up in Lauren's new dresses from San Francisco which is the precise moment I realized that I officially needed to start wearing deodorant. I'm convinced it was fear manifesting itself into physical form, like Freddie Krueger shredding up the pits of Lauren's new dress with my onion-like stench. I'm a true friend and said nothing about it. We also decided at this time, because I think a Magic 8 ball told us it was destined, to pull out the Ouija board and talk to dead people. This would not be my last Ouija board experience nor my last attempt to talk to dead people as I just tried last night to convince my neighbors that my ghost hunting app was top notch. It didn't work. It may have also gotten me the coveted classification of Neighborhood Witch. Kids will flee from me for years, my legacy has been written. 

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    "Only use two fingers, like lightly put them them on. Actually, they shouldn't even really touch it, just like hover."

    "But it needs our energies to work or something doesn't it? How's it going to work if we're not touching it? We need to touch it."

    "Yeah, like if we didn't need to touch it, it'd be channeling ghosts all the time!"

    "What if it's channeling ghosts right now? I don't think I want to do this. You saw what happened in Exorcist. Even the smoking priest couldn't handle the demons that came from the Ouija board."

    "He smoked. That's what the demons were mad about. The smoking. He was probably faking the whole thing anyway. He was a stunt priest."

    "Can we get on with this? Okay. Two fingers, touching the pointy thing, but lightly. And don't push it. I'll know if you're pushing it."

Will you know though, Lauren and Sara, I thought to myself as I sat oozing B.O. into a dress that wasn't mine. Don't test my will to trickily deceive and story-tell.

Now, to be honest, I probably pushed it but I don't remember doing so. I remember being spooked and engrossed in the story playing out before us letter by letter of a boy named Jared who was killed  - hit by a Coca-Cola truck on his way home from the mall or something equally as teenager and forced into an afterlife of parlor tricks and fortune telling. I still think fondly of Jared.  What's that little ghost dude up to these days? Did he get tired of stinky teenage girls putting words in his planchette? Did he move on to the Magic 8 Ball? Or better, did he find his own Long Island Medium to do his bidding, occasionally having to take fall for an ill-timed fart?

Or are you a truck driver, Jared? Driving up and down a lonely country road waiting for your chance to pick up a hitchhiker to pass on your tales of untimely death? "Just tell 'em Large Marge sent ya"? Only "Large Jared" unless maybe you now do go by Marge, I don't really know, you never call me.

Or do you????

Excuse me, I have a ghost hunting app to update.

Ghost Farts.

real ghost

I've become OBSESSED with ghost hunting shows. And paranormal shows. And pretty much anything that talks to dead people. Anything that's a real show that shows real things. None of this Paranormal Activity crap. That stuff gives me the spooks.

A psychologist would probably tell you that it has something to do with my dead sister, but when you start talking stuff like that then the pity party rug rolls out and then the finger pointing and hushed whispers and anyway, it's not so that I can talk to my sister like some sad sack from the John Edwards audience.

(Don't tell anyone but sometimes I try to talk to my dead sister. But that doesn't make me crazy.)

Let's start this over.

Where were we? OH! Ghost hunting.

Want to know which one's I watch? ALL OF THEM. I do. If I see that green screen it's Game On, guy.

Ghost Adventures or if you're my husband, "Ghost Bro"

So while we're here, let's talk about Ghost Adventures, which I just noticed was on the Travel Channel and not SyFy like all the others which is why I haven't seen it in a bunch of forevers. Hahah. Oh me. Anyway Ghost Adventures? Fake. Probably. And I keep calling it Ghost Adventurers which is really a better name for the show, am I right? My husband HATES this show and its Ed Hardy clad crew.

I love it. I like how Zak Bagans tough talks ghosts. He's so tough.


By the waaaay!!!!!!  DID YOU KNOW HE HAS A RECORD OUT?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ridiculous.

Click here to iTunes that gold.

Lol. I can't even with this. I think it's got to be a joke being played on me. I think my husband must be behind this. No way this is a thing.

"It's a thing, Bro"

And then the totally fake Haunted Collector. Psh.

This one. First off, how does a ghost grab onto an object and haunt the object? 'Cause if that's true, I'm never borrowing a pen ever again.

And I saw one episode that had a ghost going under the covers and then a lady who's totally hooking up with the main dude, grandpa or whatever his name is, she goes into a hole, digs around for about a second and a half and pulls out this "haunted coin". Lol. Did the ghost tell her where it was?

There's an old German Ghost yelling Jewish slurs up in this coin. 

And then there's the Ghost Hunters show. (Is that what it's called? I should look this up)

Ghost Hunters International, that's what I said. I mostly like that there's a lady named Amy on there and her hair looks blonde in night vision mode but she's really red haired. I like her better in night vision mode.

And TAPS which is the one I believe the most. Well, I think I believe the Ghost Hunters International one too. Wait. I think Amy's on TAPS? I don't.... I'm really bad at this. This is why I don't have a job at TV Guide.

The only reason.

Anyway.

Wait, are they the same show? I don't know. I don't pay attention. It's a ghost show, I don't care.

These TAPS dudes work as plumbers during the day.

Holy craps. I've just figured the whole thing out. Maybe they are fakes and let me tell you why.

Ghost farts.

Let me tell you that I am in LOVE with the Long Island Medium. Also, she blames farts on ghosts. I'm not kidding. Here's the episode if you want to watch.

And now I think TAPS might be blaming ghosts for their stink.

All of them are. If you have a gas issue, become a paranormal investigator. Or a medium. BLAME THE GHOSTS.

"What was that noise? Did you fart?" Nope, ghost.

"What's that smell?!" Ghost.

See?

So when I was watching Anderson Cooper today, I saw these ladies.

The Ghost Hunting Moms.

These are my people!!! Off to read their blog now.