all those supprised that I post to this thread, raise your hands. anyone... anyone...?
>I constantly cause large streetlights to go out.<
My wife Spoon has the same problem. She also makes cell phones go bonkers...
Have *I*, personally, ever experienced anything 'paranormal? Gee... where to start?
When I was younger, living in San Andreas, the local cemetary was reputed to be haunted. I was informed of that AFTER playing with the little girl there, climbing all over the big headstones, falling off (and landing a few feet away: THOUGHT I had fallen straight down), running around like fools. Was told by some friends that the reason they always avoided the cemetary was the ghost of the "evil girl"...
There's a cemetary in Appleton that can get VERY lively: verify what arm's length is by a tree before going in, so you know your spacing from the tombs. Antibubba mentioned "shields": I (stupidly) dropped my shields in this place one night. Don't remember anyting until about a half hour later: I drove us home, babbling the entire way. The friend will NOT tell me what I was babbling, but she was scared to death. Picked up a "rider" for a bit off that one, and discovered tht pagans DO have a form of exorcism...
Then there was the house in Valders. It's a fair hike out of town, no nearby neighbors, and I never made it farther than the middle of the road at night. You'ld just feel something coiling to strike. Never knew anybody able to cross the road there, either. A mile or so down either side of the road, fine. But not right there. Occultist, Marine, SEAL... didn't matter.
Same house: the infamous "shotgun smoking" nights. Wake up REALLY late in summer, and step outside to have a smoke. Notice thick fog, hear growling, go back inside for shotgun. Never heard the growls if the night was clear, and couldn't find any tracks during the day...
Same house AGAIN: had a VERY weird dream one night. My old man and I were some sort of investigators, and entered this old house (think the almost dungeon-like fieldstone basement walls type of place), looking for gods-only-know-what. We enter this lil' room, had a boiler of some kind in it, and the old man remembers something he needs out of the car (thanks Dad). I get the feelin' something "ain't right", draw a weapon (oddly enough, it was my first carry piece: .32ACP, Nazi marked PPK), and follow dad. Run smack into a critter: picture an "alien's" black eyes in Nosferatu's face, mounted on the body of one of the peat-bog mummies. I emptied the pistol into the thing, and it started laughing: I woke up at that point. Sat bolt upright in bed (grabbing the PPK in the process), looking around for the thing what needed killin' (or maybe it was "re-killin'"). Scary part was, I could STILL hear the bastard laughing, for about a half-hour after I woke up (the then girlfriend was freaked: I'm normally NOT susceptable to nightmares). Anybody who believes there AREN'T some form of demon in the world, is just plain crazy...
Then there's the return to the cemetary. Word of advice: if you're going to investigate a haunted location, and a devout pagan is going with, either have them preform their protection ritual
before arriveing on site, or have them stay home. A friend in the group
insisted on a protection ritual RIGHT AT THE GATE. Think of a Spec ops group getting ready to infiltrate enemy territory, and stopping to set off fireworks and bringing a brass band along for kicks. Was a fun night: bushes moving (and it was a windless night), weird feelings all 'round, mutterings where there wasn't no people, all KINDS of joy. I haven't been back there since (although there are a LOT of people that want to go)...
Then there were the weird spirits at my parent's old place. Not TOO active while mom was alive: they just didn't like being in the dark, and would plug the decorative lights back in every night. Dad finally just left 'em plugged in. Then mom died. Dad wakes up one night, and sees a figure at the foot of his bed. He gets one of "those" feelings: the one that makes you reach for your sidearm. 'Bout that time, he feels his tiger-cat on the bed, and hears her growling: the figure bolts out the door, slamming it behind him... followed by the sound of the back door slamming. Couple problems though: both doors were shut before dad went to bed, and Tiger had been dead for a couple years (her ashes were on the shelf above the bed). She HAD always been protective of the Old man though...
Or maybe we should discuss Richardson Brothers Furniture factory. I worked late security there: just me and the wind. figured my mind was playing tricks on me, and I was imaging weird stuf, until the site supervisor (clean-cut, no nonsence Marine type) asks me if I've ever run into anything weird there: turns out, he had an arguement with a ghost there. I never got THAT lucky: I love a good debate. The frieght elevator was possessed: it would change floors without anybody hitting a button (or any sound, for that matter, and it was right outside the guard office). You'ld see glowig spots off in the distance in the factory, but nothing there to account for 'em (not even something reflective). Step outside for a smoke, and you'ld hear glass break: run inside, check stem to stern, and find not one small shard (had a friend come out and verify that I was't loosing my mind on this). The final straw was the ferret thogh: that's the only way I can describe it. Looked like an ordinary weasle, except for the appearant size: roughly a foot or so at the shouder. It was about 200 yards away: from the next day on, I ALWAYS had the PPK with me there...