I have always been the type of person that questioned everything. I imagine I was a pretty big pain in the ass as a child, especially considering I am a pretty big pain in the ass as an adult. I was raised by a very mathematical/scientific mother who needs something to bite her on the butt before she will actually believe in it. Everything needed to have proof or make perfect sense for it to be valid. However, for a person that was so quizzical in nature and fairly well educated, there are some things that even without proof, I believe in. Things that have made my parents wonder where they went wrong in my upbringing and have made my husband look into divorce attorneys. Those things are ghosts, paranormal activity and superstition. I have never seen or experienced any truth behind these, but wow, does the thought freak me out.

I am that person that is always throwing salt over my shoulder. This can sometimes be frowned upon when you are in a restaurant and happen to throw the salt onto the person behind you. Seriously though, get over it, you’re lucky it wasn’t a chair. I have driven out of the way or turned around completely to not have a black cat cross my path. My neighbors actually own one, talk about the stress I have every time I go outside. I don’t understand how they don’t have perpetual bad luck. Never will I walk under a ladder and don’t even get me going about the number 13. On Friday the 13^th I wrap myself in bubble wrap and hide under the bed with a salt shaker at the ready (not really but I hate that day). Every game of Solitaire I ever played, which was a lot being an only child, if the first card thrown was an Ace of Spades, I started over. Recently, I actually broke a mirror and I have pretty much given up on everything for the next seven years. I even Googled a “fix” for that but my laziness prevented me from burying the pieces during a full moon or whatever was entailed.

My poor children’s knuckles are practically raw from how many times I have them knocking on wood. It’s quite frequent in my house because my husband doesn’t believe in “jinxing” and finds it amusing that I do. You know those kids that were punks and always teasing other kids? Apparently I married one and they don’t grow out of it. I try to convince myself that the faux wood in my car counts as wood to knock on when he tries to get me going while we are in transit.

A house could be the nicest one I have ever seen but this girl is not going to live at 1313 Main St. Every time my husband and I have purchased a home I have asked if there have been any “sightings” in the house. I actually feel bad for how embarrassed my husband gets and the look on his face screams how could he have been so desperate to marry such a wackjob. Bad luck possibly? Look who is crazy now. One house we looked at the owner told me she never saw anything but felt good vibes from the house, like good spirits. I don’t give a crap if they are good or bad spirits, I don’t want them anywhere near me. Good spirits? Are you kidding me? They’re freaking ghosts. The living dead. Scary shit. One of the houses we owned actually came with a Ouija board in the attic. I would not let anyone touch it and we left it there when we sold the house. Good luck to them, here’s some salt.

The house we currently live in was a flip and I wasn’t able to ask the owner this question. This was a serious concern for me and drove my husband to the point that he informed me that he owned a shovel. On a side note, if I ever end up missing, check the backyard. When we moved in I watched our dog carefully to see if she was detecting anything and even though she didn’t, I still couldn’t sleep for a month. Every hourly chime of the church bell would get me that much closer to the safety of daylight. Thank goodness my husband was so compassionate and comforted me throughout the night. Yeah, that happened. You know Jason in the movie Halloween, how he is always standing perfectly still? That’s what he does to me. Maybe I should buy my own shovel. Knock on wood I don’t get caught.