ghost stories.

I have never really considered myself a nomadic person. Most of my life was spent in the same place, I have never lived more than 10 miles from where I was born. 21 years were spent in the same house. Now I am finding that despite my best efforts, I have been forced into this roaming wanderer life style.

In two years I will have moved four times, five if we only stay the length of the lease. That being said I have WAAAYY too much stuff to be this mobile and have decided that a serious cleanse is in order. I am a pack rat, I always have been and fear this moving thing may be the death of me.

I am currently living with a coworker temporarily, who was kind enough to open her house to me. She let me move in all of my stuff only so I can move it out again in a couple weeks. She lives in a big house really close to my work all by herself. I have shoved most of my crap into the master bedroom, allegedly the room with the most "supernatural activity". I have never really been sensitive to that sort of thing but I do love ghost stories and the idea of living in the "haunted room" makes my short stay mucho exciting.

Last night was my first night there, in the haunted room. As soon as I tucked myself in and put my phone on the charger I heard a strange thud. Okay it was just the power strip settling into place since I had pulled the cord a little to set my alarm. I went to sleep slightly spooked and puzzled by the cold air when the room had been baking hours before. It was either ghost hugs or shotty insulation.

In the middle of the night I was awakened by a much larger thud followed by lots of small fast thuds. This one scared me for a good two minutes as I laid there freaked out in the giant bed. (My bed which I smooshed next to the twin bed that was already in there to form the dreaded bed behemoth. The little bed is mostly occupied by the kitty cat named Tailpipe.) After the noise kept happening I realized that it was most likely a Turkey, yes, a turkey on the roof.

The neighbor has about ten enormous turkeys that my roommate hates. She warned me about them jumping on the roof and being scary and loud. I saw them out the bathroom window this morning as I was getting ready for work. They are right next to my bedroom, and apparently love the roof. Once I figured out the turkeys were merely trotting on the roof I felt a little less anxious and slept soundly, except for all the times the turkeys woke me up.

The pillowfort that I am currently moving out of is mostly vacant, and big and sad lately. Everything has to be out by Wednesday and I am sad to see my dream house go. I had the best, and worst two months of my life there. I had 3 shows in the basement, I had annoyed neighbors, I had suicidal roommates, I had bottles of piss on the porch. Sometimes you love a place so much it destroys you. 997 Delmas Avenue only made us stronger.