Ghosts Over Suzy

Longtime readers of this blog know I have ghosts around me. My Dad was the first person I ever told that I believed in reincarnation and he told me he did also.

What I now recognize as my first visitation happened in New York City in the 1980's. My Russian grandfather was in critical condition and lay dying in a Paris hospital. One day I was leaving my bedroom and when I rounded the corner, I heard a crash. I turned around and saw that a picture of him had fallen over. His picture was next to a clock and I noticed the time. My mother called the next day to tell me he had died. At exactly the time the picture had fallen over. I knew he had come to say goodbye.

Below is a picture of me and a friend taken in my apartment. I appear to be strangling her with IHaveNoIdeaWhat. I'm also holding a dish towel. I am clearly not normal.

Sidebar: I'm wearing my fabulous snakeskin Guess jeans that I still need to lose 4 pounds before I can get into them again. When I find the person who invented food I will KILL THEM DEAD.

The white spots in the photo are only on me, not my friend. On the entire roll of film this was the only picture affected.

So many of these things happen to me that I wrote a book called His Dead Wife. It has no ending.

I've chronicled in this blog how both my stereo and bedroom TV often turn themselves on and off. Usually in the middle of the night, forcing me to get up and retrieve a very large manly man hammer out of my tool box. GHOSTS HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR.

I think I've talked about some of the things that happened in Florida, both before and after my Dad died. It's all in the book but I can't remember what's exactly in this blog.

I may also have mentioned that when I was 4 years old I had an imaginary friend with a very unusual name. A name so odd that my parents asked me constantly who the hell was I talking about? As an adult I found our family tree and discovered the name had belonged to a female relative, now deceased. I knew her from the other side. Of that I'm very sure. And I've never heard the name again.

These are just the stories I can sum up in a sentence or two. Most of them are way more intricate and way, way more creepy. Over the last 20 years, besides my grandfather, I've had visitations from my Dad, my dog, one of my stepmothers and of course, His Dead Wife. And others. I'm sure there have been others.

I'm used to it. And I'm not the only one.

I now know that major electronic activity around me precedes certain events in my life that I can't mention here on my blog. Maybe one day I can, when it all ends, if it ever ends.

I wish I could talk about it. It's exhausting keeping it to myself but others are involved so...