I love to watch Ghost Hunters.
There it is. I’ve admitted it. Wednesday night is a big TV night for me. It doesn’t matter what else is on. Unless someone calls to tell me that the local news is showing live footage of ghostly activity, I’m not about to change the channel.
The thing is, I used to be a big fraidy cat. Seriously, if I saw anything on TV about ghosts or the paranormal, I had to change the channel. Or close my eyes, cover my ears, and sing lalalalalalala until it was over. I was terrified that something I saw would give me nightmares. (FYI, I still do the above when a horror movie trailer comes on. I’m not ashamed. Those ads will freak. you. out.)
The turning point for me was just before the movie The Others came out in 2001. I don’t remember what started it, but I decided it was time to toughen up and see that damn movie. So I started a reasonable, well-paced training regimen of Weird Travels and Haunted History. Pretty tame stuff, since it’s all reenactments, but a victory, nonetheless. And by the time The Others came out, I had already survived watching the trailer for it, which–let me tell ya–almost derailed my plan. Remember when the creepy old lady with the weird eyes said, in the girl’s voice, “Are you mad? I am your daughter.”? Gives me goosebumps, still.
So I took a friend and went to see the movie. And I loved it. Okay, so I watched a couple of scenes through my fingers, but still. I loved the tingly, buzzing feeling of being scared and afraid to take a breath. The pounding of my heart. The way I wanted to curl up in my movie seat. All of it.
After, my fears didn’t disappear altogether, but they developed the gumption of a child who’s been picked on for far too long. After that, it was “Bring it on!” I couldn’t get enough of the ghosts.
Then, a couple of years ago, my spooky dreams came true with the premiere of Ghost Hunters. These guys, known as TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society), really know how to conduct an investigation. I appreciate that they go in with the intention of disproving the presence of the paranormal, rather than trying to prove that every bump and knock and flash of light came straight from the other side. Their methods make their findings more believable.
And when I’m watching? I’m a believer.
A few days ago, I came across Sandy’s post over at Momisodes, about the disquieting things happening in her new, very old, house. (While you’re there, take a minute to read this post from Sarah at Imaginary Binky, if you dare.) I read both stories with my hand over my mouth, knowing I would be just as unsettled if things like that were happening in my own house. Yet there’s a little crazy part of me that would love to have some kind of experience with paranormal activity sometime in my life. I would love to go on an investigation with the TAPS team, if they’d have me. I might bring along a portable defibrillator, for after my heart attack, but can you imagine how exciting it would be to have an encounter with something from beyond? (Not everyone is nodding, are you?)
But not tonight. And not in my own house. (Note to self: close the closet door.) I’m rooting for Sandy and Sarah on this one. Everyone deserves a good night’s sleep.
So now that some of you think I’m nuts, I’m curious where my readers fall on the matter of things that go bump in the night? What do you think of possible spirit activity? Please, by all means, if you’ve got a personal story to share, this is the place. And I want to hear from the doubters, too (also known as reasonable people).
And Sandy, if I were you? I’d call Ghost Hunters.