For those not in the know, a quick synopsis:
Her name was Mary Ellen MacDonald and she was a young girl living with her adopted parents in Caledonia Mills, not far from *
Ever since I was a little girl, I have been fascinated by her story. But less so with the stories of the other poltergeists explored in the documentary. I am a wimp. I hate horror movies and ghosts. They spoke with an expert in England about a famous, violent poltergeist case there. On the screen, they show a picture of a girl fully dressed but asleep, floating above her bed, which instantly turned my blood to ice, gave me goosebumps, made me stop breathing and cover my eyes. What? You think it is Photoshop? This photo was from back in the 70s. You know, back when Photoshop was a place you went to buy rolls of film. Period.
|Remember these, kids?|
That was it. Wimpy Me was done. I ran away from the TV, got on the computer, started job hunting, looking at pictures of bunny rabbits, unicorns and rainbows, reading FB...anything to not look at the images giving me the heebeejeebees and turning me into a shaking four-year-old. When the documentary was over, I jumped up, grabbed the remote and started looking for sitcoms to watch and stayed up late, watching as much comedy as I could find, to calm my nerves enough to be able to turn the lights off when I finally mustered up the courage to crawl into bed! (And I sure hate when things have to be mustered or even mustard. Gross. But I digress...) Of course, hiding under the covers, curled up in the fetal position, sucking my thumb.
|Definitely how I felt|
My husband, ever the sympathetic soul, laughed maniacally when he realized I was scared out of my wits from a TV show. Yeah, I feel the love, honey. Really. Thanks heaps. [Insert icy tone here]
This was the thanks I get after bringing him half of my super-awesome lunch earlier that day! (Notice the super-awesome segue? No, really, no applause, just throw money...)
I went out to lunch with some friends to one of my favourite restaurants. Oh, and I am doing Weight Watchers. But "Wait a minute!", you say. "Do you really think eating out while trying to watch what you eat, is a good idea??" Perhaps not for you mere mortals! Buuuut....one of the tips they give about eating out is to ask for a take-away box at the same time you order your food (which made me feel like I had to apologize for what probably seemed to the server to be weird, hippy psychic knowledge that I would need to take food home, before I even got my food.) When your food comes, immediately slam half of it into the box so as to eat a reasonable amount and keep things in check. Couple that with ordering healthy food, and it's a total Charlie Sheen situation: Winning! (Hmmm...how exactly would that take-away box thing work at a buffet??? Well, won't know until I try!)
|Former WWers , current twigs, laughing with condescension at mere mortals.|
I explained this to him (my husband, not Charlie Sheen) after giving him the take-away box (as a "sorry for going out when you were stuck at home twiddling your thumbs" consolation prize). He looked at me, blinked once and I swear to God, a cartoon lightbulb appeared above his head (oh God, oh God, poltergeists!!!). He smiled and said, "Oh. I foresee lots of food in my future! Thank you Weight Watchers!" He grinned some more, basked in the anticipation of it all then back-pedalled and blurted out, "Uh...I mean that is great...for you...for your body and health. Not for me...not about getting free food...no, not at all!" Uh huh. Right. Thanks for the support bonehead. Hahaha! (For those who don't know him, I have to explain that sometimes, he forgets there is an actual world beyond the demands of his stomach.)
With love like that, who needs....uh...money? Enemies? Friends? Did I even get that right???