Friday, October 31, 2008

Happy Halloween!


Check this out. This guy is beyond cool. I SO want to meet Joshua Hoffine. These are just absolutely chilling!


Someone else you need to check out is AutumnForest over at Ghost Hunting Theories. Again, someone I would love to meet! She has some great stories you should read, especially if you're going through Ghost Post Withdrawl.

Ghost Posts ~ XO WINS!!!!

Xavier Onassis from Hip Suburban White Guy is the victor! His tale of the Ghostly Nurse wins!!!!
Check out his Halloween/Ren Fest/Every Other Tuesday Costume:

Awesome, huh?

Thank you so much everyone for making this a kick ass contest! This was a scary project for me because I publicly spoke (anonymously) about some very personal experiences. It forced me to be more open with my writing which is one of the reasons I started blogging in the first place.

So hoo-rah!

Based on how well this went (if I look at it in retrospect) I'm toying with the idea of "The Best Christmas Present Ever!" theme in December. Lots more today, but I have to go take care of stuff in the real world.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Ghost Posts ~ Vote Early, Vote Often!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Tale of the Haunted Locarno

Mary Anne at Kansas City Guide sent in a great tale about an apartment building on the Plaza that I've always been intrigued by. Haunted or not, I'm jealous she got to live there.

Back in the late 90's-early 00's my husband and I lived
in the Locarno on Ward Parkway. The building has been many things, and has
a long history of spooky happenings from *former* residents.

So one fall morning, I'm sitting in my tiny living room drinking my coffee
with my cocker spaniel, when I suddenly get a blast of freezing cold air.
It went right through me! So our dog starts FREAKING OUT, I mean FREAKING
OUT. He's whining, yelping, growling and trying to dig a HOLE in the
carpet under the coffee table. We were on the third floor. Then he
promptly shits all over the floor. WTF?

So then, out of the corner of my eye, I see an old MAN with a hat on fly
across the bedroom, into the bathroom, and closes the door. Slams the
thing shut. SLAMS IT SHUT!

So I grabbed the dog and ran out. I'm still freaked out about it to this
very day, and it gives me chills just thinking about it. ICK!

The Tale of Haunted Atchison

Filegirl at Filegirl sent in a post that she wrote a few years ago, but wow! If you're ever tempted to go ghost hunting/touring there, check it out. I've never spent any really decent time in Atchison, but I definitely need to put the "Most Haunted Town In Kansas" on my day-trip list.


Haunted Atchison!

The Tale of a Mother's Intuition

Sugar Britches at Sugar Britches sent in a story about her mom's uncanny intuition. I'm thinking her mom and my mom could be BFF's. Except my mom doesn't read tarot. That would be me. And I don't discuss it with my mom for fear I'd get doused in holy water.


My mom sees things.
I don’t.
See things, that is. I don’t see things that aren’t there.
She ‘sees’ people’s intentions, reads tea leaves, reads tarot cards, interprets her dreams, and once when a passenger in my car, began to cry because she felt an unbearably sad spot in the road.
“What do you mean a sad spot in the road?”
“If you didn’t feel it, I can’t explain it to you.”
She says I have the ‘sight’ also.. I just refuse to use it.
She is right.
I will blissfully and ignorantly walk through this world letting the other world and other worldly well enough alone.
My mother’s most telling gift, though, is when she spots ‘the light’.
A small ball of light appears to my mother right before someone close to her dies. She saw it a week before her beloved aunt died, before her father died, and before my father died..
When I was 12, Dad slipped away from us a victim of a bad heart. In October we had a fall carnival at school. Mom volunteered to be fortune teller. She read my Dad’s cards for kicks and drew the death card on him three times.
“It’s silly stuff. Nothing to it.” My dad insisted.
My mother was frantic.
A few weeks later she saw the ball of light sitting on the dresser in their bedroom.
In November he died.
So… No. I have no desire to ‘see’ things.
My brother does and has.
But that is another story for another time.

The Tale of the Protective Mom

A Beautiful Mess at Life Induces Thoughts sent in a very comforting, but very spooky one. I know once my mom passes away, she won't leave. She'll be there to boss me around constantly. But Beautiful Mess' story is a lot more comforting.


My mom passed away almost 3 years ago and soon after her death I was in our laundry room. Our washing machine had been off center and it had "walked" out from the wall. I went in there to push it back against the wall. And as I was putting my hands around it, I heard my mom's voice saying "Danielle, don't move that! You're going to hurt your back. Have Matt *Husband* do it!"

I SWEAR I heard her say that. Still to this day, I know I heard her say that and it wasn't in my head.

A few months after that I was in bed sleeping. I had woken up for some reason and I felt my mom's hand on my cheek. I felt her caressing my cheek with her finger like she use to do when I was sick and lying in her lap. It was as if she was standing beside my bed, touching me. I felt her hand on my calf and then I fully woke up and I smelled her. I went back to sleep and remembered it happening the next morning so vividly that I do not think it was a dream. I felt her and I smelled her.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Tale of the Ghostly Nurse

XO at Hip Suburban White Guy sent this one in. It's all about the day his beautiful daughter was born. If childbirth doesn't scare you, nothing will!

"Wake up! I'm bleeding."

We had just finished watching Northern Exposure in bed and were drifting off to sleep. It was the rerun that came on after the local news. So it was sometime after 11pm.

"Wake up! I'm bleeding."

Young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis wasn't due for another month.

My adrenal gland propelled me out of bed like an F-18 ejection seat.

I started assembling our "kit" while she called the pediatrician. The doctor said he would meet us at Truman Medical Center, our chosen birthing location. It was about 30 minutes away.

Less than 5 minutes later, the doctor called us back and said "Truman is too far away. Go to St. Mary's." He would meet us there. St. Mary's was only about 5 minutes away.

I really, really didn't like the sound of that.

We loaded up in the jeep and I took off like a bat out of hell with my emergency flashers on.

My bleeding wife said "Don't get a ticket!"

"They will have to shoot my tires out and follow the trail of rim sparks and hot asphalt to the hospital before I stop this jeep!"

The hospital was expecting us. I handed my wife off to the waiting nurse and wheel chair at the ER entrance while I found a place to park.

I ran from the jeep to the ER desk and asked where they had taken her.

I ran to the location they gave me. I thought. But I got lost. I ran back to the desk and asked again. I successfully ran to the correct examining room.

My wife was lying on the table, the doctor was between her legs and the first words I heard were "There's too much blood. I can't see anything. I need an emergency Caesarian."

She had a placental abruption. She had already lost half of her blood. Mother and baby were both at risk of dying. Soon.

As they were hustling her off to the operating room, they quickly dressed me in scrubs and started taking patient and insurance information.

By the time I got back to the operating room, she was prepped, taking anesthesia, a shield was erected and the pediatrician was in position.

I held her hand as she went under.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I glanced up at the observation area above the operating room and there was a woman standing there, watching. She was wearing yellow scrubs covered with green frogs. I think she had brown hair, but I can’t swear to it. I don’t remember much more about her. I figured she must have been a nurse or a staffer who heard the late night call for an emergency Caesarian and just wanted to watch and learn.

An eternity later, the doctor pulls a limp, bloody baby from my wife's open womb.

The baby isn't crying. There is no time for pointless, modern nonsense like letting the dad cut the abdominal cord. The doctor snipped it professionally, handed the baby to a nurse who silently whisked it away.

I look up at the observation room and the woman in the scrubs gives me a smile and a big "thumbs up". I knew then that everything was going to be O.K. I felt a rush of relief and was brought to tears. I raised my hand to her in acknowledgement. She smiled and nodded.

The doctor starts closing up. He removes the abrupted placenta, examines it, and asks if I would like to see it.

I politely decline.

He then asks if I would like to see my wife's ovarian cysts before he closes her up.

Again, I politely (but somewhat more urgently) decline his invitation.

He always was a chatty bastard.

He gets her put back together and snaps off his rubber gloves.

The nurse informs him "Just for the record, it's been exactly 15 minutes since you declared an emergency Caesarian."

I look up at the observation room again, and it is empty.

Just as they are wheeling my wife off to the recovery room and taking me to where they are cleaning the baby, I hear her cry.

My daughter is alive!

The next few days are pretty iffy.

The wife had to have a pretty substantial blood transfusion. And recover from an emergency Caesarian. She was lying in her room hooked up to IVs and heavily sedated.

My preemie daughter was lying under a cake-keeper in the nursery with an E.T. light on her finger.

I was in a recliner in the wife's room with an ice pack on my blown out knee from all of that running that my sedentary body had NO IDEA how to handle.

It made for quite the family photo.

My wife's older son and daughter arrive at the hospital.

Somewhere around 3am, my wife groggily wakes up. Last she remembers, she was pregnant and bleeding. Now she's not pregnant anymore and there is no baby. I try to reassure her that everything is O.K. That G.T.O is Ok. She's in the nursery.

She doesn't believe me.

So I leave the step-kids in charge, limp out to the jeep, rush back home and get the video camera. I come back, tape G.T.O. alive and breathing in the nursery. Then I take the tape back to the wife's room and play it for her on the TV.

Many happy tears were shed.

I tried to find out who the lady in the operating room observation deck was. I wanted to thank her for reassuring me.

No one else remembered seeing anyone in the observation room. I describe her as best as I could to one of the ER nurses. Her face went ashen, she seemed to go a little limp and her eyes moistened up, and she whispered “Julie”.

I asked her what she was talking about and she said “C’mon. Your wife and baby are both fine and sleeping. Let’s go get some coffee.”

We went to the lounge, got a couple of paper cups of strong brew from the coin operated barista and settled in at a round table in plastic chairs with wire legs.

The nurse’s name was Heather. She told me story.

“Julie was an Emergency Room nurse. She got her degree in 1980 from Kansas City University of Medicine and Biosciences. That’s the Med School on Independence Avenue just east of Paseo. You can always spot it by all of the young kids in scrubs crossing the street from the dorms to the school. Right by the 7-11. It’s a good school, but it’s in a rough area. Right down the street from the cheap hooker hotels.
Anyway, Julie was a devout Catholic. That is why she chose St. Mary’s as her first nursing gig. She was a bit of an adrenaline junky so she was attracted to the ER. She had been working in the ER at St. Mary’s for about 6 months.

One weekend, she had ventured back to the dorms to visit some friends who were still struggling to graduate. After a late night of partying with friends, she headed back to the parking garage, alone, to get her car and drive home.

Unfortunately, the garage was not empty. She was attacked and brutally raped. She was left bruised, battered and bleeding between two cars. A security guard found her shortly before dawn and called the police.

She couldn’t give the police a description of her attacker. It was dark and he had beaten her pretty badly. She lost consciousness. He was never apprehended or charged.

But it gets worse. She was pregnant with her rapist’s child.

Being a Catholic and working at St. Mary’s an abortion was out of the question. She decided to have the baby and give it up for adoption.

The time came and she went into labor. Of course, her beloved St. Mary’s was her chosen birthing location. Her baby would be delivered by the doctors and nurses she worked next to 12 hours a day.

There were complications. Sometimes, a baby just doesn’t want to come into the world. Sometimes, they take their mothers with them when they go. Julie and her baby died in the operating room.”

Heather dropped her head. Her shoulder length blond hair obscured her face. A single tear splattered on the table next to her coffee. She sniffed, raised her head defiantly, wiped her cheeks dry and took a swig of the bitter, machine brewed coffee.

“I’ve never seen her. I don’t believe in all that hocus pocus. But I hear reports. Stories from heavily sedated pregnant mothers being wheeled into the OR. Stories from emotional family members under a lot of stress. People like you. Sometimes they see somebody who looks like Julie. Standing up in the observation deck. Wearing yellow scrubs covered in green frogs. Watching over things. Giving little signs of encouragement.

I don’t believe in all that crap. I’ve seen too many bad things happen to good people.

But I’ll tell you this.

Nobody who ever claimed to have seen Julie ever had to bury anybody.

C’mon. Finish your coffee and let’s go check on your wife and kid.”


I didn't have to bury anybody.

The Tale of the OCD Ghost

May at May's Machete sent this one in. The thought of an OCD, angry Grandma staring at me while having sex is chilling!

In Erie, Pennsylvania I was living in a home my current partner's grandfather had built from the ground up. It had stayed in the family and we were renting it from his uncle.

We were the first people to live in the house after his grandparents and the space was full of their strange energy. The first ghost I ever saw that looked like a movie version, a deathly pale shimmering image of a human form, was his grandmother and she was very unhappy about her house being lived in by a group of college students. She had had OCD in life and her ghost still became distraught when the house was too dirty for her tastes.

I'd see her glaring at me, as if I was the one responsible for them all, and she'd even float her head in through our bedroom walls to glare at me when I was trying to have sex - the hatred of the undead is not good for sexy and she enjoyed ruining my good time.

We'd hear here washing her hands in the kitchen sink at nights and sometimes the ghostly steps of her husband would pace back and forth as if waiting for her to let go and let them move on.

The Tale of the Man and the Cat

Stacey at Reality Is Not My Friend has a couple of really creepy tales about her father and her house in Corpus Christi, TX. I hate noisy ghosts that scare children. And a ghost cat?! Yikes!


It's important to start with the fact that my father is a police officer. They aren't people given to wild flights of fancy or letting things frighten them. About 30 years go we lived on an Army base in Hawaii. One night my father woke up in the middle of the night and found his buddy standing by his bed. He asked his friend what he was doing in there and reached to turn on the light. When he turned back his friend was gone. My dad chalked it up to an odd dream, looked at the clock and settled in for a few more hours of sleep. The next morning when he went in to work he found out that two of the MPs had been killed in a car accident the night before. One of them was the friend he saw in his room. It happened pretty much around the time that my dad woke up. To this day my mother refuses to believe him, but like I say, cops aren't given to flights of fancy. My dad prefers to deal in facts and if he says it's a fact that this happened, then I'm sure it did.

I've seen things off and on through out the years, but have only lived in one truly haunted house. My house in Corpus Christi, TX was haunted by the ghost of a cat and also a rather unpleasant man. I think the cat just didn't realize it was dead and went on doing the things it always had. I never saw it dead on, but frequently I would catch a quick glimpse of a cat jumping on a counter or scratching the couch. When I would go to scold my own cats they wouldn't be there. Usually they were outside when the cat ghost appeared. I guess it didn't like to share attention. My rats and hamster would go nuts when it was around, but the dog couldn't be bothered to wake up, much less bark.

The man was a lot more obnoxious than the cat. He wasn't tied to my house, but seemed to be tied to the land. I say this because he started off at my neighbor's house. From the time she had moved in there odd things would happen. Books would fly off of shelves, tvs would turn off in the middle of a program, lights turn on or off - that sort of thing. The oddest story she told me was about her son's electric guitar that started playing. While it was unplugged and in the case under his bed. It was spooky enough that her two teenage sons refused to sleep in separate rooms. Finally my neighbor had enough and did some sort of cleansing. This is when I started having problems. It's easy to think that anything I saw was influenced by what she told me, so I must point out that at the time she did the cleansing we didn't know each other. I didn't get to know her until months later when my kids started school and I had more time to visit with neighbors.

In our house the man didn't throw books, he preferred to scare my older son and tried to scare me. I'm not bothered by ghosts. I do think they exist, but generally they don't scare me. One day I was sitting on the couch watching tv when someone sat down next to me. Someone invisible. I could feel the heaviness of a person sitting there, see the indentation in the couch, but couldn't see anyone. That freaked me out, so I moved spots. After a few minutes the presence went away. A week or so later it appeared in my son's doorway. He came to ask me why "casper" was in the hallway. I went to look, but couldn't see anything. He pointed to a spot near the ceiling and said "he's right there". I didn't see anything that day, though later I would see a gray, almost triangular thing in the hallway. More than once "casper" would appear and scare my son out of his room or keep him from going to the back hallway. The cats, rats, hamster and dogs did NOT like Casper. They would get very agitated when he was around. Periodically the ghost would slam and lock the garage door when I was inside. That meant I would have to go out the front of the garage and around back to get in the house since the front door was always locked too. For some reason he chose to leave my husband and other two children alone. The kids witnessed the garage door shutting and saw their brother get scared - so they were scared too, but they never saw anything directly. My husband once challenged the ghost to prove it really existed and he spent the entire night have horrible nightmares. He woke up screaming twice that night. I don't know if the ghost caused this or not, but I do know my husband never challenged it again.

The most disturbing event happened the time I did see the ghost. He appeared in my bathroom mirror when I was brushing my hair one morning. He was a youngish man, late 20's - early 30's with dark hair. His skin appeared to have been burned very badly with blisters and black spots and he generally appeared angry. I looked at him for what seemed long minutes, but was probably long seconds. Then I left the bathroom and thought about what to do next. I didn't want to live with that in my mirror, even if I didn't think it could hurt me. It was shortly after this that I met my neighbor and a few weeks later that she felt comfortable enough to tell me her story. When I realized that a cleansing could drive off the thing I gave it an option. Leave us alone and live peacefully or I would cleanse my house too and it could go wherever was left for it to go to. I didn't know exactly to get a cleansing since we didn't have a church or priest, but it wasn't an empty bluff. I figured I could find one if I needed it. The ghost must have figured that too because he was much quieter after that. He didn't leave 100%, but no more scaring my son and no more showing up in my mirror.

In Belton my shop was haunted. She (seemed female) would take down my mylar balloons at night and scatter them around. Occasionally she would move things, but nothing major and nothing scary.

Stephanie and I think that there is at least one spirit haunting the shops here. Odd things get moved or turned off at night. A basket that isn't on the table anymore or my helium tank turned off. Little things that couldnt' happen by themselves. Sometimes you will feel something in the room. No real sightings, but you can feel it(them) here. These buildings are pretty old, so it's possible. After all, Westport was once a center for all sorts of stuff. I'm sure more than one person has left their impression or a bit of their spirit behind.

The Tale of the Bloody Fingers

Emaw at Three O'Clock in the Morning sent me a link to his story which he had previously posted. I mislabeled this one as the Tale of the Bloody Fingers, but this one is actually even creepier. Ancestral rage and all that...

Take a gander...if you dare!!! Mwahahaha!

The Tale Previously Mistitled as the Tale of the Bloody Fingers

Monday, October 27, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Contest Batting Line Up


Ok. I have 8 entries so Tuesday and Wednesday I'll post 4 a day. I'm posting them in the order that I received them. Thursday, the voting will begin, so make sure you tell your friends and family to vote for your favorite. I get to vote in the event of a tie.

I've made up titles for these, hope they aren't silly.

Anyway, here's how it looks:

Tuesday:
Emaw at Three O'Clock in the morning: The Tale of the Bloody Fingers
XO at Hip Suburban White Guy: The Tale of the Ghostly Nurse
May at May's Machete: The Tale of the OCD Ghost
Stacey at Reality Is Not My Friend: The Tale of the Man and the Cat

Wednesday:
A Beautiful Mess at Life Induces Thoughts: The Tale of the Protective Mom
Mary Anne at Kansas City Guide: The Tale of the Haunted Locarno
Filegirl at Filegirl: The Tale of Haunted Atchison
Sugar Britches at Sugar Britches: The Tale of a Mother's Intuition

So, get ready to enjoy and vote!

The Ghost Posts ~ Drama Edition


Before I go on with the ghosties, I've updated my Link List. If you're not on it, I beg your forgiveness, drop me an email and I'll fix that.

Oh, and what the hell was that that just went whizzing by?

The last 2 weeks, you say?

Really?! Hmmm. Damned if I noticed.

This last weekend was filled with crazy/busy. I'm glad I'm on the other side of it. I'm sorry if I haven't been commenting on your blog as much as I usually do, but it's just a crazy month.

Last weekend was a museum weekend and Sat. night, Handsome and I went to a play at the theatre that he'll be acting at next month. (Different show) One of the actors in the current play and I are pretty good friends and she asked me to check out backstage.

I'm always a little leery when it comes to theatres. Any respectable theatre is haunted, or at least has a lot of residual energy. This particular theatre is in the Midtownish/Westport area and that's just asking for stuff to happen.

So, anyway, I checked it out. Typical shadow/energy stuff and the like, nothing really substantial, until I got to the costume room. I hate costumes. Many times they are vintage clothes or they were made with a character in mind. Actors spew off a lot of energy and depending on the play, it can be good or bad.

So, it was a kind of strong room, just energy wise. But then I felt something hiding behind one of the racks. I was immediately drawn to her. I haven't felt that strong of a spirit in a long time. It was a little girl who wouldn't come out and I respected her space.

I hate feeling little kids. I hate it. I don't know if it's because I'm a mother, but I can't stand the thought of a small child dying and getting lost. I hate it. This particular one isn't sad or anything like that, and I'd like to ask the costumer if he's had any tricks played on him.

That theatre reminded me of a particularly strong story I have about the theatre at the college I attended.

If you remember last week's Ouija board post, it of course had the obligatory resident theatre ghost. He never did much, other than tell us to stop playing Ouija and the occasional stage/prop malfunction and other assorted tricks.

The same summer as "Ouija Madness" I was up alone on the grid (the metal grid above the stage that the lights are hung on) precariously balanced on my stomach trying to hang a spot light. (Did I mention my intense fear of unsecured heights?) All of a sudden, there was a streak of white light or mist or something similar to that barrel through the grid, weaving. There was a really weird noise too, like if you drove through a tunnel with your windows down. I can't really explain it.

Scary enough, right? Before it left it, it passed over me, not 3 feet from my prone body and disappeared. I'm not sure if it was the resident ghost or not, but it scared the living shit out of me because I have never seen/experienced anything even remotely close to that before or after. I'm really lucky I didn't fall.

The only other person in the theatre with me at that time was Todd, who was walking through the aisles to the back of the theatre to go to the light board. No one was playing tricks on me.

I can't talk about dramatic spirits without discussing The Curse of Shakespeare's Scottish play. If you're unfamiliar with it, check this out. I thought it was just a quaint theatre superstition until the summer before Handsome was to do that show in college, the theatre caught on fire. And then, a stage hand who thought the curse was BS, said the Scottish King's name repeatedly and the fly system came down and hit him on the head, causing him to get 14 staples in his skull.

So there you have it.

More tomorrow and Ghost Posts Contest DAY ONE!!!!

Friday, October 24, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Freaky Friday IV

It's the fourth weekend of October, so the haunted stuff is heating up around town.

Here's your Weekend To-Do List O' Fun:

175th Anniversary of Westport Bash: Did you know that Westport was it's own town and that it is actually 17 yrs older than Kansas City? (KC annexed it in the 1890's I think). This weekend there is all sorts of celebrating going on in the part of town that has never needed an excuse to party. For all the fun historical details, check it out here: Westport175. No doubt about it, Westport is probably the most haunted part of town. From frontier men, Civil War soldiers, flappers and stoned out hippies, there is always a feeling you aren't alone there.
After you get done partying there, head over to Waterfire. It's not haunted, but they might conjure up something. Anyway around it, it will be cool.
Too "artsy" for you? Go to the John Wornall House Museum at 61st and Wornall and take the Haunted Wornall tour. It's a tour with reenactors dressed up as people who still haunt Kansas City.

So, Ghost Posts Contest will begin on Tuesday. I have 8 entries. I'll post 4 a day and then Thursday will be the voting day. I'll announce the winners on (Friday) Halloween!

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Ghost Hunting 101


Since I'm Paranormal Wrangling at the Museum tonight, until midnight (long after you're tucked into bed/passed out drunk), I thought I'd give my 2 cents on the subject.

I've never been part of a ghost hunting group, but I've had several come to the museum hoping to catch our ghosts on camera/voice recorder. I've seen some really professional groups and some really not so professional groups.

Most of the time when people find out that I'm going to an investigation, they imagine it will be like something out of "Ghost Hunters" or "Paranormal State". It never is.

Even though we had a group that came in that had once assisted/filmed with TAPS on an investigation, it's never as exciting as it seems to be on TV. It's a lot of electronics, cables, sitting, and waiting.

The best groups are the ones that emulate TAPS. They are very scientific about it (sometimes a little too much) and record everything, either by video or tape recorder. They set up multiple cameras in multiple areas and even do the lockdown/dead time thing Paranormal State and Ghost Hunters does.

That being said, it's not a science. You're dealing with the sixth sense and recording devices don't always catch something you see/feel/hear because it's on a whole other level than strictly the physical.

You don't need a lot of fancy equipment to ghost hunt though. Just a tape recorder (I would highly suggest a digital one) and a video recorder. I'm also a fan of bringing along a tried and tested psychic since you're dealing with something that is so sensory.

Also, don't bring tons of people, but bring enough to cover the building/house/whatever thoroughly. Too many people cause a distraction and too few spreads it too thin.

Record even when you aren't actively hunting. One of the clearest EVPs that I've heard my own voice on was captured when I was just talking to an investigator about something completely off topic of the paranormal.

Listen back to the tape in slow motion and in high volume. There's great voice recording/editing software out there, I'm sure it's much harder to use than I'm capable of.

Anniversaries are the best. If a place is haunted, try investigating on the anniversary of a death or event that might stir up the atmosphere.

Don't expect anything to happen. Full bodied apparitions aren't going to dance the Charleston in front of your camera or recite the Gettysburg Address on your voice recorder.

Even if a place is tremendously haunted, ghost stuff doesn't happen every day. Narrow down the very specific hours that you're actually recording something and the chances to catch anything on tape seems almost impossible.

So how do you get them to appear? Talk to them. Ask them questions, ask for signs of their presence, if you have personal objects of theirs, hold them. Even if you don't physically hear anything, you might have still picked up stuff on tape. Investigate a few nights in a row.

Don't be afraid of the results you find. Remember that there are very few things out there that can actually hurt you.

Good luck and email me if you want a recommendation for an investigative group to come to your house. I know a few that would love to. Best of all, most of these groups do it FOR FREE!!! If I knew that when I was living in the shirtwaist, I definitely would have had them come.

Here are some "professional tips":
Ghost Hunting 101
Guidelines for Ghost Hunters
How To Hunt and Equipment Needed

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Ouija Boards


I've got pretty split feelings about the Ouija board. On one hand, it can be a very powerful channeling device and on the other hand it is an exceedingly dangerous device. It's also misunderstood a lot.

I remember going in to a very well known New Age store here in KC searching for one. After not finding one, I asked the girl at the counter, who was a total snot and said to me, "We don't sell those toys here. I suggest looking at a toy store." Stupid @^%$#!

Yes, the Parker Brothers "toy" has entertained giggly girls for years, but it is most definitely not a toy. It won't tell you who your next boyfriend will be or who is talking about you behind your back, but the "harmless fun" in it is what's so dangerous.

Ouija's like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. And that's bad.

Spirit medium boards have been around for centuries. The Chinese had them, the Greeks had them and the Europeans had them before the Parker Brothers ever thought to market them.

Even Edgar Cayce, the best known American psychic, warned against them. They can be, in the hands of certain unsuspecting people or in certain places, a conduit for demons, according to him.

I don't disagree. I seen people and heard stories of others who got "addicted" to playing with the other realm. It's not a toy and their intentions are not usually good. Only someone very powerful can guard themselves against things they shouldn't mess with.

My freakiest story concerning the Ouija occured in the summer of 1997. I was one of 4 Summer Conference Staff Members (Summer RA's) for the college I attended. This was between my sophomore and junior year of college and I mostly did it because another summer at home with my mom was an unbearable thought.

Our "staff" consisted of 2 guys, another girl and myself. Handsome, my still new, hot boyfriend also hung out with us a lot in the evenings when we were done with soccer, theatre, basketball camps, whatever. We were all really good friends and decided it would be cool to hang out together that summer.

One of the guys, I'll call him Todd, got a Ouija. I was just getting into really exploring the whole "other realm" at the time so I was game. We all knew that one particular dorm, the one we happened to be staying in, was particularly known for the paranormal happenings, especially one floor of the building. This floor was unused for most of the summer and it's where we played most often.

At first we thought it was all fun and games and interesting. The normal goose bumpy kind of fun that only 20 yrs can scare themselves with.

And then it got serious. We started playing it way too often and one particular spirit would get on the board and he wouldn't leave. He called himself Darkman and said he was going to fight for Todd's soul when he died.

Todd wasn't freaked out at first. We were all good little Catholics and didn't believe it.

Then there was the night that we were sitting on the floor, Todd across from me (we were usually the two on it most because we seemed to have a really good "connection" for channeling.) We were sitting Indian style and not touching the board or the planchette at all.

As we were reaching down to make contact with it, the planchette jumped half way across the board. Again, I will tell you neither of us touched it. There was no way it could have moved and it certainly couldn't have "jumped". That was the freaky thing number 2.

Number 3 occured a few nights later. The other girl, I'll call her Jane, was on with Todd. Darkman was of course hogging the board. Todd asked what he was doing and Darkman spelled out, "Playing Deathwatch". When asked where Darkman was he said on top of our building. He said he was waiting to fight for another soul.

Todd and Jane freaked out and that pretty much ended the night. They immediately left to go see a movie and Handsome and I wandered off to do our own thing.

A few hours later, Todd knocks on my door. He comes in and says he's destroying his board. When I asked him why, he said that when they had been leaving our parking lot, an ambulence whizzed by them and turned into the old folks home down the street. Todd said it was just getting too intense for him.

I was kind of disappointed, but I was supportive. The others of us weren't as ready. Jane bought a new board and one evening when Todd was off campus, we were on-duty for an event in the theatre. We sat up in the light booth and started talking to the resident theatre ghost. All of a sudden, he spelled out "Stop playing, Todd's coming".

None of us wanted to really let him know we were still playing because he was kind of shook up about everything still so we put the board away and went outside the theatre to smoke.

We were outside maybe 2 minutes and Todd, the security officer, not our friend came up to patrol the building. Right name, just the wrong guy we were thinking the ghost meant. Had we been caught, we would have been in HUGE trouble, no doubt.

We all decided after that we should quit playing. We took it as a sign that there was just cosmic stuff that wasn't meant to be disturbed. We also didn't like hiding something from our really good friend.

I've played the Ouija a few times since then, but never was a board as strong as that summer. You aren't going to get something evil every time, or anything at all sometimes, but there is a great risk in it.

I caution people against it all the time. If you don't know what you're doing, it's just too dangerous. I can truly believe that people can become possessed from them. It's rare, but I believe it can happen. It is addictive and it's hard to break once you're so focused on it.

We're just lucky our stupid invincible-feeling asses didn't get in deeper than we did.

The Ouija is not a toy like a Magic 8 ball. Don't screw with it.

Moxie's Bad Treats/Good Treats List


I have to buy candy for a Trunk N Treat for Friday night so it got me thinking. What Halloween candy of my youth did I dread getting? Here's my list:

Crappy Candy:
1. Atomic Fireballs. Do they still make these? The cinnamon fire hot jawbreaker things? They are a choking hazzard and nearly inedible. Automatic dump into my brother's bag.

2. Laffy Taffy. Last weekend I went searching for Darling's Halloween bag. Know what I found? Laffy Taffy. What kind of sick demented jerk gives a 3 yr old little kid this crappy candy? Great way to break a tooth.

3. Dots. They're the cheap boxes of pseudo-gumdrops you find in the mixed bag of Tootsie roll products. They taste horrible and stick to your teeth in a disturbing way their gummy based counterparts (bears, worms, etc.) don't. Something is just not right about these.

4. Homemade treats. Who would seriously let their kid eat something that isn't pre-packaged. It's just dead weight taking up room in the candy bag.

5. Apples/Oranges, other assorted fruit. Seriously? Are you kidding me?

6. Individual sticks of gum. See above, you cheap bastard.

7. Weird flavored Tootsie Roll knock offs. In theory I should like them 'cause I love me some Tootsie Rolls, but they just don't taste right, especially the orange flavored ones.

8. Mints. Dude, did you save up at Sonic for a year just so you'd have Halloween candy? I don't want anything that's touched the floorboards/seat cushions of your car.

9. Smarties. I just don't like them. I never have. After the sweetness of chocolate products, they "smart" just a bit too much.

10. Bit O' Honeys. There has never been a more useless, horrible "candy" ever on the market. This block of crap can't even legitamately be called a food product.

Great Candy:
1. Snickers. They are the greatest chocolate bar in the world. There isn't anything else that I could possibly want more. The rest on the list are just secondary to these little delights.

2. Peanut M&M's. My second favorite candy in the world.

3. Kit Kat bars. Gimme a break, gimmie a break, break me off a piece of that "Kit Kat Bar"

4. Mr. Goodbars. Why do these only seem to exist during holidays (Halloween, Christmas and Easter)? I love these for their simplicity of mere chocolate and peanuts.

5. Milkduds. They rock. Whoppers are ok, but I like the caramel version.

6. Tootsie Roll pops. I love the "How Many Licks" challenge, but I'm impatient and have yet to figure it out. They remind me of my childhood.

7. Crunch bars. Crispy chocolate? Ok!

8. Peanut butter cups. Diabetic coma anyone? Yes, please!

9. Starbursts. I LOVE them! I would trade you anything for the strawberry ones!

10. Jelly Bellys. Gourmet Jelly beans rock! Too bad the "fun size" packages are so small.

Thoughts? Is either list incomplete? In case you're wondering, I fall on the "Pro-Candy Corn" side of the fence...

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Moxie's Bitch Break

Time out for the Ghost Posts. I need to vent. Here's my top list of shit that's bugging me:

1. Politics. I don't need to hear the words Hope, Maverick, Economic Armageddon, Joe Plumber, Joe Six Pack or Joe Biden until roughly 2010. Is it Nov. 4th yet? I'm ready to just put the new guy (whoever he is) in office so I can stop wanting to punch my tv screen everytime I see Bush.

2. I'm cutting out caffeine. Literally for the last week, I've been cutting down from my 10 a day Diet Coke habit. (Yeah, I know!) This sucks. I'm exhausted, and always have a low grade headache. But I'm down to 2-3 a day. I hope to be caffeine free Moxie by the end of the week, you know, right when all hell breaks loose.

3. All hell is breaking loose. Tomorrow I have a meeting-athon that starts at 8 and doesn't end until 5. They might let us eat lunch. Thursday I have to cut radio spots for my day job (haven't written them yet) and I have to be the paranormal wrangler for the museum as a ghost hunting group is coming in until MIDNIGHT. Friday I have a full day of work and then a Trunk N Treat until 9pm. Sat. and Sun is full of museum stuff and the 175th anniversary of Westport festivities.

4. Handsome Deprivation. Did I mention Handsome's gone from 8 am until 11 pm all this week since he has a day job and his next show is going up soon? Sunday was our 6 year wedding anniversary and Thursday is our 12 dating anniversary and I'm going to be lucky to do anything with him other than sleep next to him and listen to him snore until at least the day after Halloween.

5. Sleep Deprivation. Darling needs to understand that if she wakes Mama up at 3:30 am, Darling might be able to go back to sleep, but Mama sure as hell can't. Thanks, kid. Thanks a lot.

6. Ghost Posts is more work than I thought it would be. And I'm not even doing a very good job of it. Thankfully, the contest starts very soon. I thought it would be cool to do it. Now I'm self-conscious that it's just stupid.

7. Donuts. Handsome got this stupid "Donut Maker" for a white elephant gift last Christmas at work. Now he's getting pressure to "make the donuts" and bring them in. This equates to Moxie finding a recipe, making said donuts for Handsome's work. He could theoretically do this himself, but since he's only going to get about 5-6 hours of sleep a night, I need to do it for him. Next week. Not this week.

8. High maintenance friends. I'm currently in the middle of two seperate cases of Friend Tug of War. I didn't sign up for that shit. Deal with it on your own, leave me out of it. Plus, around Halloween people always want me to come over and see if their house is haunted. I'm not a psychic. I don't know. I definitely see my fair share of ghosts, but it's not like I can seek them out.

9. I'm broke. And by broke I mean we are up to our ears in bills. Darling's outgrowing clothes faster than I can buy them. Stuff that fit back in late August/September is now too small. WTF?! Thank God Handsome is getting paid for the show he's doing currently.

10. Mama Guilt. I'm worried that as busy as Handsome and I are last week, this week and next week, Darling's going through Parent Withdrawl. Yes, I try to spend as much time as I can with her, but I feel like I'm failing her. She told me last night that she missed me. Nothing like a 4 year old telling you that you're too busy.

Ok, I'm done. Bitch Break complete. Back to the regularly scheduled shit.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Before you vote ~ Don't Let The Bastards Get Ya Down.

Kris Kristofferson, again. Troubadour to ma soul...Don't vote without hearing him... I would leave my Handsome for him (it's ok, he understands the draw of the poetic in me)...

If you can't hear it at work, read the lyrics...
Don't Let The Bastards (Get You Down)
by Kris Kristofferson
They're killing babies in the name of freedom.
We've been down that sorry road before.
They let us hang around a little longer than they should've.
It's too late to fool us anymore.

We've seen the ones, who killed the ones with vision,
Cold blooded murder right before your eyes
Today they hold the power, and the money, and the guns.
It's getting hard to listen to their lies.

I just gotta wonder what my daddy would've done,
If he'd seen the way they turned his dream around.
I've gotta go by what he told me:
"Try to tell the truth and stand your ground.
Don't let the bastards get you down."

Mining roads
Killing farmers
Blowing up schools full of children
Fighting communism

I just gotta wonder what my daddy would've done
If he'd seen the way they turned his dream around.
I've gotta go by what he told me:
"Try to tell the truth and stand your ground.
Don't let the bastards get you down."

The Ghost Posts ~ The Other Spirit

This is one of the stories I debated on telling or not. I decided to go for it because I have very poor impulse control and inner monologue is not my friend.

You'll probably think I'm crazy after this one, but what the hell, this whole Ghost Posts thing is an experiment on my bravery/openness. And, this is a 100% true story, just like the others, so help me God. It's not even the craziest I've been thru, believe it or not....

Maybe I'm freaked out to write about it because it's the only time I had a spirit physically harm me. Seeing a ghost is one thing. Feeling a cold chill is one thing, being grabbed by one, is a whole other thing.

This story takes place in Handsome and my bedroom in the turn of the century shirtwaist. I've already told you about one of the spirits in that room, but the other one is completely different.

He always sat in the armchair that I had in the "library nook" dormer. Next to the lamp and bookshelf. He never did much of anything, but I saw him there quite a lot. He just sat in the chair as a black shadow illuminated from the street light from below, and stared at us laying in bed. (Our bed was situated on the opposite wall in between the dormers.)

One night, he got pissed.

We have no idea why, not even now, 7 yrs later.

He would sometimes roam the room, but he always went back to his chair. He was angry and black and up to no good, but since he never had done anything but brood, we really never gave him much attention.

Until one night when I woke up in the middle of the night and something was holding my arm. I couldn't move it. My arm was ice cold and when I looked up, all I could see was his black form. My arm could. not. move.

I woke Handsome up by grabbing him with my other arm and saying his name. I still couldn't move my other arm.

Handsome woke up, looked up above me and freaked. He's only experienced "a few" truly paranormal things in his life (most of them with me) and he didn't know what to do. He could hear my voice, but he couldn't see me. I was covered in a black "cloud" of something.

He held my hand and I was so freaked out, he was the one that called him off. But he wouldn't let go. We both saw black energy (sorry, not a better word for the moving mass of stuff) coming from the ceiling.

The whole room was filling up with this black, negative...stuff. And I still couldn't get free. It was like I was locked to the bed.

Handsome literally screamed at whatever he was to let me go. He drug me across the bed towards the door and I can't even describe the feeling of being wrapped in my fiance's arms and being pulled by something else. It was not a tug of war that I could have ever imagined.

We broke free of him/it and I was so freaked I ran down the three flights of stairs, past the porch and sat in the street on the hood of our car, staring up at the dormer window.

I didn't sleep up there for a week. It was only the second (and last) time I ran out of that house scared shitless. I had scratches on my arm from whatever it was. Fucking scratches! That's stuff you hear about in the movies, not real life, and yet, there they were.

Three perfect marks about 6" long on my arm. I swear it's true.

Needless to say, we saged the room. If you've ever had to smudge/sage a space, it's f'in' sick work. The smoke is so sweet it makes you gag. But I had to in order to go to sleep at night.

More tomrorrow, darlings...I'm done for tonight.

Friday, October 17, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Oohh! Oohh! Road Trip!

Just in case you need to get the heck out of Dodge this weekend!

The Ghost Posts ~ Battle of Westport Museum Opens

Time for Moxie's "Go check out this haunted spot" ghost post for the week.

This week's hot spot is the a place Moxie has been very excited about. It's the grand opening of the Battle of Westport Museum!!!!

A museum dedicated to "The Gettysburg of the West" is LONG overdue. It was the decisive battle that basically won the war on the western front for the North.

If you've ever been to Loose Park, you've probably seen the markers. The "hottest" part of the Battle took place there, but there are several sites around the area that are part of the drama of October 23, 1864.

Check out the Battle of Westport Driving Tour. I've never done this, but I'd love to do it. Let me know if you try it out.

The Museum is actually to be located in Swope Park (Byram's Ford area). Here are the details:

Battle of Westport Museum Grand Opening
October 18, 2008
6601 Swope Parkway
Ribbon cutting at 1pm—Grounds and Museum open 10am to 4pm
Food vendors on site. No admission charge.

Tour the visitors’ center and museum with its impressive collection of artifacts and exhibits describing the cavalry battle that was the Battle of Westport. Enjoy period music and dance, living history demonstrations, historical presentations, and visit with the people of old Westport who lived through a massive army invading their lands and homes to engage in civil war. Bring your family! Bring a picnic! Bring your camera!


BEST FACT ABOUT THE BATTLE? It was won because a German immigrant farmer, George Thoman, had his pregnant horse "appropriated for use" by the Confederacy. Upset about the welfare of his mare, he led the Union troops to a gully that they could use to flank the Confederate forces who, up to that time, had the upperhand in the battle. The tide of battle changed, the Union won, and the west was secure for the Northern forces.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ The Other Bedroom

Tuesday I began telling you about the really creepy third floor bedroom, so let's journey across the hall to the bedroom Handsome and I shared for the first few years, shall we?

It was the "front bedroom" if you will, with two dormers and lots of room (except the crappy closet). While it was no where near as foreboding as the other third floor bedroom, we still had some stuff happen in there.

When we moved into the house, down in one of the deep corners of the basement, I found an old 1920's era dressing table. It looked sort of like this except for the ornate scroll stuff on top of the mirror. Otherwise, it's close enough.

It was love at first sight for me. I love, love, love old stuff (duh, I'm a historian!). I asked our landlord if it was ok if I used it and he said sure, since he didn't even know it was even there.

So I made Handsome and his brother lug it up to the third floor for me. That's not the only they brought up. They boys place the dressing table at the foot of our bed and there were a few nights I would wake up and see a shadow standing in front of it.

After living there for about 8 months, Handsome and I broke up (one of the worst few months of my life at the time). Suddenly I was all alone at night in the room. Even though it was a mutual break up/time out, there were nights that I would just cry and cry. One such night, I was laying in the dark, crying and I heard a woman's sigh. I looked up and saw the shadow and it moved to the bed and I could feel it sit down. I felt a cold spot/hand on my arm and I jumped up, turning on the light.

Nothing was there, of course, but I became super sensitive to that spirit. I don't know how I know, but I know the dressing table was hers and even after Handsome and I got back together, she never forgave him. Whenever we were both in the room and I would tell him I could see her shadow, Handsome would say he felt like she was pissed at him.

It was kind of nice to have a protective woman there with me. Besides Handsome, 2 other friends (both women) saw that particular spirit, so I don't think I'm totally crazy. I also kind of feel that a man must have hurt her very badly in her life for her to react to my sorrow and Handsome's prescence so strongly. It was kind of a hard decision of whether to take the dressing table or not when we moved, but ultimately we left it there. It's where she/it belonged.

It was really nice to know she was somehow there, especially when I tell you about the other spirit in that room and he was nowhere near as nice. More about him tomorrow!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Presidential Pumpkin Edition

Sorry guys, I'm up against a deadline tighter than a whore in pleather tonight. However, I am a HUGE fan of pumpkin carving. I'll write a lengthy post about this scary good clean fun later, but for tonight, I give you:

Yes We Carve

That's right, Constant Reader! Daily downloads of your favorite Obama Pumpkin Patterns! Some are really cool and you'll be able to scare all the Republicans in your neighborhood!

This is my favorite:


If Obama's not your cup of tea, check out the Pumpkin Lady for other famous face pumpkins...

The Reagan one really scares me.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

I don't know if I can watch The Brady Bunch the same way again...

Marcia Brady and Michael Jackson? AND Greg Brady? And drugs and a tell all book? This is too crazy!

Read it!

The Ghost Posts ~ The Third Floor

Continuing from yesterday, another story from the NE KC house...

Handsome and I eventually moved into our third floor suite of 2 bedrooms and a tiny bathroom (It was a large closet converted into a bathroom-toilet, sink, shower.) Handsome and I used the bigger bedroom as a bedroom, and I enjoyed the two nooks the dormers created. One was just big enough for my desk, the other for a bookshelf, chair and reading lamp. The closet was kind of small, but well, I'm a girl and we always want bigger closets.

Across the hall was the other room. It had a "guest" bed, more bookshelves and the computer. In that room was also the bathroom. Or should I say, Handsome's bathroom. I never took a shower in there. It gave me the creeps to be in there by myself. I'd always go down to the 2nd floor to bathe (that shower had a whole other kind of weird which I'll tell you later).

Handsome and I at first really liked the idea of having our own semi-isolated space away from everyone else. But it didn't take us long to figure out that the third floor was the most "visted" part of the house.

The extra bedroom was the worst. I had to spend a lot of time in there during our first year in the house because I was working on my thesis. You never felt alone in that room. And not in a good way.

Handsome would tease and remind me that our house was in the "old Italian" part of the city and that maybe someone got tortured and whacked in what was now a bathroom.

He thought he was being funny until one night he was the one who got up in the middle of the night to pee. He said that when he walked in the room he saw someone sitting on the bed get up and dart into the shadows of the corner. He flipped the light on and no one was there. He stopped teasing me after that.

Another time, I got up to pee (I've always been a nocturnal pee-er) and when I reached into the bathroom to turn on the light I felt something grab my hand for a second and then a gust of cold (not wind, more like a flash) go through me.

If it was just weird shit like that, it might not have bothered me as much as it did. Because whatever it was that was in that room was NOT good. It was angry and just felt evil (the most evil feeling spirit I've ever encountered) and every few weeks or so something would happen that would freak me out.

Like the time I was vaccuming and the door slammed open. Or the times I would hear a male voice calling my name in the stairwell when no one was in the house.

The extra bedroom was definitely creepy. I usually would turn up my music loud and try to ignore "things". Stuff didn't happen all the time, so it was usually it was ok.

Tomorrow, "When Ghosts Get Possessive" or "The Stuff in the Other 3rd Floor Bedroom"

Monday, October 13, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ The KCville Horror

Sorry, faithful Ghost Post readers. Today exploded on me and no time to blog until now.

The next (probably several) stories are going to center around the house I lived in from 1999-2003. Next to my parent's house, it's probably my favorite place that I ever lived. Even if it was haunted beyond belief. This house turned some of the most ardent non-believers into believers.

It's a turn of the century shirtwaist located 2 blocks from the Kansas City Museum up in the "Historic Northeast" of KC. Scarritt-Renaissance neighborhood. I still have dreams about that incredible, fucked up house.

It's beautiful. 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a big, deep stone porch with a balcony on top. When Handsome, his brother, me and the other 2 girls we moved in with saw it for the first time, we fell in love. Especially since the $450 a month rent split 5 ways made it that much more awesome (we were starving college kids).

Handsome and I had the top (third) floor which was 2 bedrooms and a bathroom. The second floor had 3 bedrooms and a bathroom. The main floor had a bathroom, kitchen, living room and front parlor. Basement was a basement. The pool table, washer and dryer lived down there.

It was the perfect party house. We made as much noise as we wanted and never had to worry our neighbors would call the cops. In the Northeast, they had bigger fish to fry than a bunch of drunken college kids' noise pollution.

So, when did I figure out it was haunted? About 3 days after moving in. We signed the lease in May of 1999. Our other roommates weren't going to live there that summer, just Handsome and I playing house. For that blissful 3 months, as our roommates scattered home to Denver, St. Louis and Hermann, we had the place to ourselves.

Handsome already had a job lined up for that summer and I had just put in my application at (my soon to be employer) The Kansas City Museum. Until they said yes a few weeks later, I was, for all intents and purposes, a Moxie of leisure. Our 3 roommates had never lived off campus, so they didn't have a lot of stuff, so Handsome and I spent the first weeks filling up the place and sorting out our combined crap.

The only thing that sucked was that the landlord (dickhole that he was) hadn't finished the 3rd floor all the way remodeling wise. We couldn't move our stuff up to our rooms.

The first morning I realized the place *might* be "spiritually enhanced" I was laying on our bed in the front parlor. (Handsome had already gone to work.)

All of a sudden, I hear someone in the house.

I mean, I REALLY heard someone in the house.

I heard heavy footsteps, then the third floor stairway door SLAM and then footsteps coming down the last flight to the floor I was on, turn the corner, stomp thru the kitchen and then the kitchen/backyard door slam.

I was dreaming and I was so terrified hearing someone in our new house, I was scared, frozen stiff during that LONG 30 seconds. Northeast KCMO ain't exactly the swanky part of town, I honestly thought we had had someone break in.

I was so scared, I jumped up and ran out on the front porch. I sat down, smoked a cigarette (shut up, I know) and tried to calm down.

After I stopped freaking (by then I had rationalized that it was an intruder that had left or a spirit that hadn't) I went back in the house.

I walked into the kitchen, saw that the backdoor was wide open (even though I knew it HAD been locked and that I had heard it slam shut just minutes before).

I calmly (sort of) went and shut the door and the rest all soon began.

More tomorrow, darlings...

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Moxie's Halloween Costume...U Decide '08

So, I can't decide what's scarier...The Economy, Pakistan or Sarah Palin?

Hmmm.....what should I be? I want a "scary" costume this year...

Friday, October 10, 2008

Moxie's Friday Night Friskies

Ok. So. Handsome's off doing a benefit concert tonight. I'm seeing it tomorrow night, but he's singing a song from one of his dream roles (Jekyll & Hyde) tonight. "This is the Moment" is the song he's singing, youtube it if you must but that's not the point.

Moxie misses her Handsome tonight. This post is one of the reasons I never want to tell Handsome about my blog....

Let me tell you a little story (or two):

This song, performed by the illustrious Linda Eder and, originally the sexy/hot Anthony Warlow caused Handsome and I to miss class one afternoon in college. IT was an INCREDIBLE afternoon, if you know what I mean. In that "I'm 21, you're 22, we can go ALL afternoon without worrying about anything in the universe interrupting us" kind of way. I sincerely hope you know what I'm talking about.

If "Dangerous Game" doesn't get you all hot and bothered, well, I'm sure there's Viagra for that. Sorry, but the guy playing against her is kind of a douche, (couldn't find a Warlow/Eder duo of this) but the guy made it to Broadway, so what do I know?


Secret Confession time: I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Not at all. But, if I could be reincarnated with an incredible singing voice, I want to sing THIS song from Jekyll and Hyde. "Bring on the Men" is beloved by divas and drag queens everywhere. Sorry it's not Linda Eder, but this gal's got the spirit of it...

Dave, from Dave's Double Entendres, would LOVE this song. Why? "I'm very partial to buns", "Triple Sandwiches are my favorite ones", "Appetites", um...etc...


Side note: PLEASE God, next time, can I look like
Bernadette Peters

because I've always wanted to be a red head, but I'll keep my own boobs, thank you, because they're WAY better,
have Audra MacDonald's voice and


and Linda Eder's talent?


Pretty please?

Oh, and if you must, go see the local production of J&H coming up. It won't be ANYWHERE near as awesome as if Handsome did it, but he is already otherwise engaged theatrically at that time. I've heard the guy (he's done this role before) and meh, not bad, but not as good as Handsome (partial, am I? Maybe.) Still, incredible thing to see live. Get off your butt and go.

The Ghost Posts ~ Shawnee Indian Mission


One of the most irritating things about being in the Museum biz in KC is when you mention "The Kansas City Museum" (the official one on Gladstone Blvd. I'll get to it later), people say "Oh, you mean the Nelson?"

No, no I do not. Don't get me wrong, I heart the Nelson. But it's art. Not history.

Consider this your weekly, "Get off your ass and go do something interesting" pep talk for the week.

This weekend, check out the Shawnee Indian Mission. Here's your invite:

22nd Annual Fall Festival
10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Saturday
12 – 4:30 p.m. Sunday

Free admission

Featuring family friendly fun, crafts, entertainment, and food. You'll see living history re-enactors, mountain men, American Indian dancers, spinners, weavers, blacksmith, storytellers, musicians, traditional craftsmen, pony rides, tipis, food, and a quilt show. Handmade crafts for sale.

Mountain man campfire, music, and storytelling 7 p.m. Saturday.

Sponsored by the Friends of the Shawnee Indian Mission and Kansas Historical Society.


Maybe you're saying, "Sure, Moxie, but what do pony rides and quilts have to do with hauntings?

Well, let me tell you a little story they probably won't tell you at the museum...

The murder of the Reverend Thomas Johnson, who started the Mission, is one KC's great History's Mysteries. The official story is that he was murdered for $1,000 that he had in his house in Westport (where he lived after the Mission closed). The unofficial story involves guerrillas (upset by the fact that he switching from the Confederate side to the Union side) and possibly people hunting for his son, who had gone AWOL.

The Rev. was a slave owner, who blatantly bought slaves in Westport, MO and carried them across state lines to the mission. As a citizen of a free state, this was illegal. According to some first hand accounts I read in my museum's archives, his slaves were often 14 yr old girls (you go ahead and do the math.)

He was a man who made enemies. The Mission, as well as being a school and a church, also served as a camp for union soldiers during the American Civil War (not by choice) and serving as a state capital for pro-slavery Kansas in 1855. Check out this article about him, especially the "Friend or Foe" section.

I haven't found any accounts of hauntings there, but hundreds of Native American children and Civil War soldiers passed thru there. It seems propable...go, find out and report back! I would wager you won't get any staff stories though. Since it doesn't seem like any investigators have been there, I bet the official story is "It's not haunted." Museum people say that to preserve the "scholarly" aspect of their sites.

I'd love to hear of any hauntings in the neighborhood.

Happy Weekend! I might post this weekend, but probably not. I'll be back on Monday for sure!

Thursday, October 9, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Moxie Needs A Drink

It's Thursday night and ever since college, Thursday night means drinkin' night. Unfortunately, I'm in charge of Darling tonight, so no booze for me. But a girl can dream, right? Instead, I've got to go and fight 4 year old cavities, hair washing and read stories about unicorns...WOOO!! I live it LARGE!!! I know you're jealous!

Moxie's a strict beer drinkin' babe, but she has a strong penchant for "pretty drinks". (I'm all girly like that!)

If you need suggestions for a Friday Fright Night Drink-A-Thon (watch C-Span) take Nuke's suggestion and curl up with a scary movie.

Have a Moxie cocktail or two. Let me live vicariously...

Suggestions (in no particular order):

Caramel Apple Shot

1 oz. Apple Pucker
1 oz. Butterscotch Schnapps

Combine in a shaker ice. Strain into a shot glass.

Blue Devil Cocktail Drink Recipe

Ingredients to use: 0.5 tsp. Blue Curacao
1.0 oz. Gin
0.5 each Juice of Lemon
1.0 tblsp Maraschino

Directions: Shake all ingredients with ice, strain into a cocktail glass, and serve.



Bloody Eyeball Martini

Halloween Drink Recipes

2 oz gin or vodka
1/2 oz dry vermouth
1 olive eyeball

Instructions

1. Place gin and vermouth in a cocktail shaker with ice.
2. Gently shake and pour, straining the ice, into a martini glass
3. Garnish with an olive eyeball.

Prepare ice "eyeballs"

per eyeball:
1 radish
1 pimiento stuffed green olive

The "eyeballs" should be prepared a day before your plan on use them.

Step 1: Peel radishes, leaving thin streaks of red skin on to represent blood vessels.

Step 2: Using the tip of the vegetable peeler or a small, knife, carefully scoop out a small hole in each radish, roughly the size of an olive.

Step 3: Stuff a green olive, pimiento side out, in each hole.

Step 4: Place 1 radish eyeball in each section of an empty ice cube tray. Pare the radishes down a bit to fit, if necessary. Fill the tray with water and freeze overnight.

Wicked Witch

1.5 oz. Whiskey
0.25 oz. Maraschino Liqueur
0.25 oz. Pineapple Juice
1 tsp. Lemon Juice

Directions:
Fill a shaker half full with ice cubes. Pour all ingredients into shaker and shake well. Fill a Tumbler almost full of ice cubes, and strain drink into Tumbler.


Zombie
1 oz. Light Rum
1/2 oz. Creme de Almond
1 1/2 oz. Sweet & Sour mix
1/2 oz. Triple Sec
1 1/2 oz. Orange Juice
1/2 oz. 151 Proof Rum

Directions:
Shake all ingredients (except 151-proof rum) with ice and strain into a collins glass over ice cubes. Float the 151-proof rum on top, add a cherry (if desired), and serve.

Banshee
1/2 oz Creme De Banana Liqueur
1/2 oz Creme De Cacao Liqueur
2 1/2 oz Milk or Cream
Shake with ice and strain into a Cocktail Glass.

The Great Pumpkin Punch Recipe
1 Part Apple Cider
2 parts Ginger Ale
1 Part Rum
Pour the ingredients into a hollowed out pumpkin with floating pumpkin chunks.

Green Demon

1 oz. Vodka
1 oz. Rum
1 oz. Melon Liquor
Lemonade

Combine liquors into highball glass with ice.
Stir.
Fill with lemonade and top with a cherry.

The Ghost Posts ~ Imaginary (Or Not) Friends


I have never had an imaginary friend. I kind of feel left out since so many kids have them, even my sister had one. I think her's was a lion, named Braveheart (yes, this was the height of Care Bears era). Darling has a pink and purple unicorn named Bonnie who likes M&M's. Some imaginary friends are people and children can describe everything about them, even when they lived and what their names were. Great use of imagination, right?

A lot of times, when friends and I are telling ghost stories, many of their stories start, "When I was a kid, I saw..." Even decades later, these stories remain vibrant and clear.

Everyone in the world has seen "Sixth Sense". So why is it that children seem most able to see spirits? Is it just their imaginations?

Many people who have/have children who have seen ghosts don't consider the seer to necessarily be over imaginative. I think, like animals, the Rules of the Order of the Universe haven't been set for them. By nature, they are innocent and open to whatever is in their environment.

If you believe in past lives, maybe it's because they haven't fully transitioned into this life all the way. (Check out this creepy article about children who vividly remember past lives).

Before Darling was born, Handsome and I (well, really mostly me) worried about protecting her if she could "see things". Neither of us wanted to be the "It's just your imagination" type of parents (Handsome's) but we didn't want Wednesday Adams for a kid either.

For the most part, we haven't had to worry too much. She would giggle and play with aparently no one when she was a baby. She would look up suddenly and smile at someone not there. Then, when she was around a year old, Handsome and I had to intervene. She started getting scared/overwhelmed by whoever it was she saw. Her bedroom at night started to feel "crowded" but not really threatening, to not only me, but Handsome. So, I told whoever it was to back off and let her sleep. By the time she was two, I would hear her randomly in the night saying "Go!" (what I told her to say when she got scared). They seem to obey, but then we don't have too much "activity" in our house. And that's the way I like it.

Nevertheless, from time to time, I check stuff out. If I feel something near me, I'll ask her who else is in the room with us. 9 times out of 10 she'll point to the exact spot that I'm feeling out. To feel something now is no big deal for her and she's not the type to get scared of monsters in the closet. She just tells them to go away.

She has quirks too. She'll ask me why I was so mad today when I was at work, regardless if I said anything about it. She'll start running for the door 5 seconds before Handsome's car turns onto our street. When going to visit my Grandpa (Dad's dad), she'll point to a portrait of my deceased grandmother and say her name.

This is probably weird parenting to a lot of people, but you're not in my shoes or my family, so shut up. The instances that stuff like this happen are maybe 1 in 100. It's not like I'm teaching her how to play the Ouija.

There has been too much that I've seen /felt in my life to discount anyone else's experiences regardless of their age. I think it's worse as a parent to tell your child that what they see/think/feel/hear is wrong and invalidate their experiences. It's the same as telling them the picture they drew sucks or they shouldn't cry when they fall down. They can't help it.

I am a firm believer that the psychic is part of the spiritual and God gives some of us extrordinary gifts. I think all spiritual people have a little of "the Shine" to them if they are open-minded enough to accept it.

Like a lot of things (Love, prejudice, greed, kindness) in life, children learn by example. Openness to things we don't understand is a good lesson, I think.

Sometimes kids grow out of seeing "friends", and sometimes not. Maybe it's imaginary, maybe it's not.

This article explains it better than I probably can.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ Animals Gone Wild Edition


Animals, cats especially, seem to be extra-sensitive to the things that don't seem to be there. Almost every pet that I've ever had has had a freak out. Maybe it's because, like little children, they have a hard time distinguishing what should and shouldn't be there.

When Handsome and I had our first apartment, we had a rabbit in our bedroom. The rabbit would spontaneously run rapid circles around her cage in the middle of the night. We could see a shadow/figure of a person leaning over her, teasing her.

One night, Henry, as we called our ghostly visitor, was particularly agitating her. I yelled at him to back off. I told him to go over to the other side of the room. Our computer, in sleep mode was directly opposite the rabbit cage and when he moved over there, the monitor turned itself on. For some reason, Henry was riled up that night.

A few years later, still in the college years, Handsome and I moved in with a few other roommates into a beautiful turn of the century shirtwaist up near the KC Museum (more about the Amityville horror of that house in future posts). We had a cat, we'll call her Ditzy, (because she was). She was supposed to be our roommate's cat, but guess who fed her and changed her litter box.

One night, I was laying on the couch watching tv. Ditzy, not prone to general frisky kitty business, (she was like a soft, furry, vibrating rock most of the time) came barreling down the stairway like a bat out of hell. She stops in the living room, turns around, hisses, jumps up straight in the air and starts running into the dining room. Repeat and rinse.

I frantically chased after her and got her out from under our bed on the third floor half an hour later. Whatever invisible thing was chasing her, scared the crap out of her. This wasn't the only time something like that happened with her, but it was definitely the most dramatic.

The eeriest thing I ever witnessed with animals was living at my parents' house. We had 3 cats and one night, I was sitting with my mom and dad in the living room. Suddenly, they all sat up completely alert and stared at something near the ceiling. Nothing was there, but you could watch their eyes moving in perfect unison, watching whatever it was.

We didn't see anything, but they sure did.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ EVPs In KC Edition


There are relatively few things that scare me beyond belief. EVP's (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) are one of those things.

I do NOT like them, Sam, I am.

Scouring the internet you can find all kinds of stories in our digital age of voice recordings in the oddest places. TV shows like Paranormal State even devote entire episodes to them (and the lady who got addicted to them).

Some theorists even say they can be dangerous and should not be listened to unless you're looking for some trouble.

I'm not sure why I hate them so much, but they really freak me out. Maybe it was seeing White Noise during the baby monitor time of Darling's life.

Baby monitors happen to pick up EVPs really well.

During the paranormal investigations at the museum I work for, I've been privy to listen to some of these recordings. Only once was I in the same room at the time one was caught. We were told to get out. Of course we didn't hear this until the tape was analyzed and played back.

My only real, confirmable by Moxie story about these creepy things was when Handsome and I first bought our house. Darling was only about 4 months old at the time and we were in full blown baby monitor usage.

The baby monitor was on the recessed headboard of our bed so we could definitely be shocked awake when she started crying.

One night, I was discussing Darling with Handsome. He said that sometimes when he walked into her room at night he could feel, but not see someone else there. Handsome's a semi-skeptic in this regard but he's experienced enough with me to believe that ghosts are possible.

I asked him if he felt like it was a bad energy and he said no, it was really good, but really strong. Enough to startle him.

I told him, "You know, I really think my great aunt Darling (whom Darling is named after - the sister to my maternal grandfather)watches over her."

Before Handsome could answer, as clear as a bell, we hear a woman's voice say, "Yes!" We both heard it. Neither of us were hallucinating.

I'm choosing to think it was Great Aunt Darling and that's it. I really didn't want to think to much about it.

I know there have been EVPs recorded at the place I work, so I started searching around for a few paranormal investigations in KC. Check 'em out if you're brave enough.

Paranormal Activity Investigators has a pretty extensive list of recognizable KC Haunts...

MillersParanormal also has some good local stuff. Click on the EVP tab.

MissouriGhosts.net has a 2005 article from the Star

Monday, October 6, 2008

The Ghost Posts ~ The 1st Ghost I Ever Saw

I'm an incurable nocturnal pee-er. Handsome teases me that I have the bladder of a gnat, and he's probably right. When I was about 11 years old, I saw my very first ghost who just so happened to be my grandfather. If you didn't read my first story, you probably should so you can keep up.

It's ok, I'll wait...

One night during my 11th summer, I woke up to go to the bathroom. I crossed the hall from my bedroom to the bathroom and after I took care of business, I glanced out the window. And then I looked again. Standing down by boathouse, with his back to me, a man was cleaning fish.

When my grandfather lived in our house he had a table set up outside the boathouse door so he could clean the fish that he caught. I remember getting grossed out and usually avoided that part of the yard when he was doing so.

In my groggy 11 year old mind, I couldn't figure out why my dad, the only guy that could reasonably be in that spot, was cleaning fish in the middle of the night. He liked to fish, but nowhere near as much as my grandfather.

I opened my mouth to call out to him (we always had the windows open in the summers at night to pull in the lake breezes) and then realized that my dad was snoring in my parents' bedroom next to me.

Then I freaked out.

I realized who it was. It was my grandpa and he had died the year before.

This was just the first time I've seen him. On another urine trip (I don't remember how old I was) I walked out of my bedroom and was making the trip across the hall and smelled pipe smoke. Velvet tobacco (it came in big red tins) was my grandfather's brand and his huge LazyBoy that he spent the last year of his life in, was in the little study across the hall. I turned my head and didn't see him exactly, but a white wispy flash, leaving.

It took me a few years to actually tell my mom that I had seen him. She had a very difficult time after his death and even at 11 I knew telling her would only upset her.

It was almost comforting to see/feel him from time to time. It was nice to know he was still there. I did eventually tell my mom and she said she had similar experiences.

Hearing the garage door opening and closing, footsteps upstairs, doors shutting and the occasional strong scent of Velvet tobacco became so common, that when we were kids and we all heard this stuff, we'd just say to one another, "Well, Grandpa's home." and go back to whatever we were doing.

Not all of my siblings admit out loud to the crazy stuff that would happen. My youngest brother wasn't even born until 2 years after Grandpa died and both of my sisters were too young to remember him, but my brother who is 2 years younger than me, does remember him. I know he's seen/felt him because my Grandpa always wanted a son. Instead he ended up with 2 girls. But my brother refuses to discuss it. Not even the time we were fighting over something and we both saw a closet door open and then bang shut. Grandpa hated fighting.

Da-Nile's not just a river in Egypt and all that.

More to come!

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Lay Down Your Head, (for) Nick Reynolds

I am profoundly depressed over the death of Nick Reynolds of the Kingston Trio. Their music was the voice of my childhood and one of the most incredible concerts I've ever been to was June 2006 in Columbia to see The Trio play. I probably freaked them out that a 20 something girl was gushing THAT much over them (and singing every word to every song they played). I was in bliss. Don't even ask me how hard I cried the day John Denver died or how I'll feel when Kris Kristofferson, Peter Yarrow, Paul Stuke, Mary Travers, Bob Dylan, Jackson Browne, Don MacLean, Judy Collins or Joan Baez die. I don't even want to think about. But I'm so sorry it's Nick tonight. His harmonies were so beautiful and pure.

This week a little bit of the song died away. Rest in peace, my troubadour of folk...say hi to John Denver for me in Heaven!
(Minute 1:49 they get into the song you never knew they wrote. You might recognize it...)


This is even better...thanks Smothers Brothers!


I play a bongo for you tonight, sleep well, brother...

Friday, October 3, 2008

Haunted KC ~ Vaile Mansion



Want to visit a really haunted house this weekend? Try the Vaile Mansion In Independence, MO.

I went there a few years ago during Christmas time and the house was all het up in Victorian Christmas overload. I broke one of my cardinal rules of museum-seeing. Never go when this kind of crap is going on unless you really don't carry what you see.

Since I had heard it was haunted and my BFF had a freaky experience/feeling when she went one non-special evented weekend, I was mildly intrigued. I ended up disappointed. Too much was going on around me for me to actually get a feel for the place. Plus, I have a personal aversion to Victorian decorating and they go WAY overboard. I do plan on going back at some point to check it out.

Strange USA has a creepy description of the Vaile Mansion. Check it out.

Ghost Vigil, a group of paranormal researchers also did an investigation of the house. They have great background info on it, very interesting.

So, get off the couch, and go outside and play as my mom would say.