Psychic Sensitivity

Would you be surprised to know that I'm a bit of a "sensitive?" That is to say that for whatever reason, I sense things. Sometimes these things come in dreams, sometimes by Deja Vu. Other times, I just know... like I'll sense a phone call from someone, then it happens. Or sometimes, I feel a person's unknown illness. It's a weird thing.

Well, anyway being that I have this sensitivity, I'm always interested in visiting alleged spiritual hotspots. In general, I've had more disappointments than exciting moments; however, I have had some oddities happen.

Case in point: Mercy Brown - Rhode Island's vampire.



I think there have been enough documentaries on this subject so that anyone who has been interested, would have to believe that poor Mercy Brown was not a vampire, and died, sadly, of consumption - or, in today's vernacular - Tuberculosis.

That isn't to say, however, that there isn't some sort of psychic phenomenon in the exact vicinity of her grave. I believe there is.

Recently, I took an excursion to visit her grave. Although I had never been to it, and I really didn't know exactly where in the graveyard she lay; I somehow walked right to her.

It so happened that on this particular day, there was not a cloud in the sky, and being that I was there at almost exactly 12 noon; the sun was directly overhead. There should not have been any shadows in my photos. As you can see here though, there were. I should mention that, this was the only one of about 15 pictures which came out even remotely viewable.

Also interestingly, there was a family from Connecticut there, also in search of Mercy Brown's grave. They made a special trip to come and visit her. I watched the dad take umpteen photos with his brand new digital camera, all to no avail. He was completely put out by the 30th attempt. All of his tries yeilded only blurry, unusable photos. By the time he gave up, he & his wife were convinced that Mercy did not want photos taken of her final resting place.

I think because in their ignorance, the people of that time desecrated her body and her resting place so badly, that she does not rest in peace. There is a feeling of sadness and unease surrounding her little grave. Moreover, across the graveyard, there is a paupers chapel. It was beside this chapel that Mercy's body, after being unceremoniously uninterred, was desecrated by the removal of her heart - a belief that the people of the time thought would stop the wanderings of a vampire.

Upon nearing this area, I was overcome with cold chills, to the point of the hair on my arms and neck standing straight up. An immensely sad feeling took over my entire being, and tears began to slowly fall from the corners of my eyes. It was all entirely unexplainable. Suffice to say that for my money, I believe that the spirit of this poor young girl lingers in a place which means only sadness to her.

Enough was enough. I had found Mercy Brown, and I didn't at all like the feelings she was evoking. I said a prayer that she may finally rest - I also said a prayer that she leave me. She did. Thankfully.

Sometimes, some things are better left uninvestigated.

Friday Five

This past week, were you more predator or prey?
Definately prey.

Which Beatles song title could best be the title of your week?
Hard Day's Night... in so far as...
It's been a hard day's night, and I been working like a dog

“Roses are red / Violets are blue / ___________ / __________.” How would you complete this poem so that it described this past week?
I'm dead on my feet, all because of you!

How many pieces of unopened mail are sitting wherever you put your unopened mail?
About 12

What was the best meal of the past seven days?
Uh... Veal Parm with angel hair from Federal Hill

Um ... This Is Very Cool

I guess this video has become quite the internet rage. And for good reason.

Les 44 présidents des Etats Unis
by thony911

Whatever

I suppose if I had new news, I'd post more. The truth is, every day is just like the one before.

Obviously, being that I live in Massachusetts, I, (like everyone else here,) am feeling the effects of the Arctic blast passing through. It's C.O.L.D. Thank God I have heat in my house, which is not the case for 2 different people I know. I feel horrible for them. Times are hard; there's no money around - the gas company doesn't care that people are dead-ass broke. They want their money, and if not... tough shit ... freeze to death for all they care!

Things with MW are also status-quo, for better or worse, it is what it is. We tend to get on each other's nerves, but yet nothing changes. What can I say? I have a tremendous breaking point. I guess I haven't gotten to it yet. (Funny how things change all the time, and time changes everything!)

I still work every flippin' weekend, DJ'g for all the karaoke hounds. Once upon a time, that job was not a job - it was fun. NOW...? Not so much. Now, it's a job. A drudgery, an inconvenience, a long drive... it's not fun anymore. Not fun because I have to drag MW with me, and he hates being there, and so he makes those 4 hours each Fri & Sat seem like 10. It's not fun anymore because I still have to give every penny of the money I earn there to my brother, who by the way, is still waiting for a court date to have his disability case heard. TWO YEARS NOW PEOPLE!

There's a meme over at Stacey's that I want to do, but it's soooo long. I'll do it another time.

Christmas sucked, as usual. My dear friend R gave me a beautiful diamond bracelet, other than that ... nada. A big expense was all it was. Depressing and expensive.

I guess the best thing about this time of year is, it's tax time. I always look forward to tax time because I always get a fat tax refund. This year though, I have to use it to pay my property taxes and house insurance. Bummer!

Well - I started this post at 9am, and it's now 4:30pm. Does that give you some indication of my attention span when it come to blogging? It's because I have nothing to say. There's just nothing going on around here.

Meh

A Trip To The Ladies's Room...

Ladies public restroom... not for the weak!

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume 'The Stance.' In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.' To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have known there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail . Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.' By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.' As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?' This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

God And Politics

I stumbled across a blog last week which I read quite a bit of. Through that blog I wandered to others of like mind. The theme of these blogs is Christianity/Conservatism.

With the recent presidential election, there are, as one would imagine, a multitude of opinionated posts out there on all subjects, and how they relate to the election.

As I've said in an earlier post, I believe in "Live and let live." And honestly, that's how I feel.

That isn't to say that I can't have my own opinions though.

I like to think of myself as a person who believes in the central ideology of Christianity. I also like to think of myself as neither far right, nor far left in my political views... I'm pretty middle of the road.

Having said all that, it is beyond me how people who claim to be Christians, can be so narrow sighted, so blind, so damn one-way in their views.

I'm not going to link God to the presidential election here. A million other people have already done that out in this chasm known as the world wide web. I think it's wrong. I think faith is faith, and politics is politics, and never the twain shall meet.

I happen to be disappointed that Obama was elected. I think he was elected for all the wrong reasons. I also think McCain was not the best candidate from the Republican party. Be that as it may, it is what it is.

My idea of being a Christian is to be tolerant, and to be loving of all mankind; regardless of political persuasion. Regardless of all differences, in fact. My idea of being a Christian is to be responsible for the spirituality of the one and only person whose spirituality I can effect - mine. I am not my brother's keeper. It is not up to me to impose my beliefs upon another. I am responsible for my own ideas, my own beliefs, my own behavior - not yours; and vice versa.

God and politics do not belong in the same stratosphere.

I wish I could elaborate more about this, but I can't because I don't want to further what I think is a radical agenda. I don't want to publicize what I consider to be a hateful and intolerant ideology.

What I will say though is, if you don't like a candidate's position on gun control, or abortion, or the national budget, or foreign affairs, or same sex marriage; that's fair game... as long as you don't blame God for the position you take.