The Ghost in the Machine

Weird stuff tends to happen to me.

A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about my recurring sensation of deja vu. For the most part, I do believe that it’s crossed wires or some weird neuro-chemical reaction.

This time, I thought I’d talk about the ghost in the machine. I actually mean that literally, because I’m not deep and have no aspirations of contemplating my soul. I suppose I could, but I am apparently not in the mood for navel gazing. If I were, I’d write my memoirs and be done with it.

Granted, my memoirs would be really superficial, because I think I’d depress myself if I sat around pondering the meaning of my life all day long. I think it’s one of the reasons why the stories I tell in my blog tend to revolve around my embarrassing moments. I laugh at myself as often as I can. Because if I didn’t, I’d be a bawling mess, and no one wants that.

But I digress. Let’s get back to the topic at hand: me and my weirdness.

When I was a teenager, electrical items used to freak out when I was around. Lights would blink on and off, the pencil sharpener would randomly start sharpening nothing. My mother noticed that if I was really tired or stressed out, the dishwasher would turn on and off. Once, it even happened while the dishwasher was standing open.

It was, shall we say, a little messy.

I came to accept the freaky shit.  Being honest, my parents’ house was old, and the wiring in the kitchen was faulty. There was probably a short somewhere affecting that side of the house. It happened when I was home because… I was always home. I was grounded all the time, and pretty nerdy, so it’s not like I had a terribly active social life.

That’s what I told myself, anyway.

But the weirdest thing that happened during this time was when I would randomly hear conversations through my phone as my phone was sitting on the hook. 

Their voices were tinny and far away, but if I listened, I could hear their conversation. Most of the time I tried not to. Because it was creepy, and I don’t think they said anything particularly interesting, anyway.

After all, I was a teenager, so if it didn’t somehow revolve around sex or boys or both, I wasn’t interested.

I got a different phone, even, but that didn’t seem to do a whole lot of good, so I went back to my super cute hot pink Guess phone. (Yeah, I was THAT awesome. It was the only Guess thing I owned. The butt was too big, and the waist too tiny, to fit into the pants everyone wanted.)

And then, one day, it just… stopped, and I never heard the voices through the phone again. No more ghosts in the machine, as it were. I used to hear freaky things through the kids’ baby monitors, which is one reason why I got rid of them as soon as I could, but that’s a story for a different day.

Which leads me to the question, what kind of weird stories can you share?


2 thoughts on “The Ghost in the Machine”

  1. Are you sure it wasn’t residual weirdness from the other members of your family? 🙂

    I’ve spent a lot of time in creepy old churches and I am still scared of boiler rooms to this day. But the very oddest experience was one I wrote about from that English class we took together!

    1. You should tell that story! I think I’ll tell my “haunted school” story on Saturday… That’s going to be my weird day. Now, if you’re writing about an odd experience that happened while we were in that English class together, you can always tell the story of how you got M and I together. 🙂

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