I am taking Sheesh's advice and starting a new thread for you crazies and all your insane exploits. I had no idea that the readers of this blog were a bunch of alcoholic outlaws. I thought that I was the only one! (((group hug)))
So, share your break-up and 'men are horrible' stories, and no, this is not a contest. I can't be giving away ALL my toiletries. Stanky ass janksters don't get the good joorey, as we all know.
As usual, I will start. This was a long time ago when I was a barely legal Twunt.
I was 18 and dating a guy we'll call Asshole. He was from a fraternity that was loaded with future firemen and outdoors-y guys with inscrutable majors. It was fun, he was cute, but nothing serious.
A few weeks ago we did the ghost story thread and it was a huge success. I was trying to think of another topic to discuss, something in the same vein as the paranormal. A little birdie named PC whispered into my ear and together we hatched a plan. I seem to remember that quite a few of you, in addition to myself, had some pretty scary dream related ghost stories. How about we share some of those in addition to any recurring nightmares you might have, or freaky phenomena in general. I'll get us started.
This story includes my old New York roommate Billy, just like one of my ghost stories did. We were on our fourth week of searching for a two bedroom apartment and having absolutely zero luck. Everything was either too expensive, too small, in a shitty neighborhood or in one of those charming buildings that you revisit without the realtor and discover that it's full of whackadoodles and filth.
We were getting so fed up and stopped at one of those little tables on the Bowery that had all kinds of junky little doodads on display, like old war medals and watches. I zeroed in on a particular timepiece and an icy hand grabbed my spine. Just that very morning, I told Billy that I had had a dream of a watch similar to his, only in Russian with the words Boktok on the face. At breakfast, I grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch, and while they were similar, the word on his watch face was nothing like the one in my dream, nor were the numerals. Sure enough, that exact watch was laying on the soiled cloth in front of me. Spooked me for days, but the entire event had zero affect on my life. We found the shitty dark haunted apartment a couple of weeks later, and moved in.
I think that random things can happen and looking for meaning in them can lead nowhere, or.......is there a separate dimension? Maybe I caught myself in a tiny crack while I was sleeping. What about you? Have you ever had a similar experience and did it have more resonance in your life? Or do you have a particularly frightening recurring nightmare to tell everyone?
Feel free to share and be as long winded as you like in the comments. This is the kind of stuff I LOVE.
