He's Back and a Pain

Do you talk to him? Sometimes when I feel like someone is present I talk to them and just acknowledge they're there. I just feel like it's the thing to do.
Yes, this could be a way to get your attention. However, this person doesn't sound very pleasant. There are less destructive ways of attracting attention. Presumably this is the previous occupant of your flat and sees you as an intruder.
 
Have you ever tried talking to him/her/it? How often does this stuff happen? I have a friend who's had a ghost in her house (usually her basement) that they call Top Hat, because he wears one. She didn't believe her little boy when he first told her he saw TH in the basement. Then she saw him herself. She even saw him going into the house when we were on the phone a couple of years ago. We were talking and suddenly she said...Oh sh*t!! I asked what was wrong and she said "Top Hat just went into my house!"

So teasingly I said go inside and say "Hey amigo...que pasa?" But on a serious note I reminded her that he's been around all this time (at least 20 years) and never once tried to harm them. When her future tenant was helping clean out the basement, he came and told her he saw a "man wearing a top hat". She had never told him about Top Hat, thinking that would discourage him from renting the space. I think he did and might still be there.
 

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Last Wednesday afternoon I took a shower, washed my long hair (to my waist) and went about my business of making dinner. At 8 o'clock pm I went into the bathroom and all was fine. I watched tv for awhile and headed for bed a 1 am.
As I walked down the hall towards the bathroom, I could hear running water and I started to pray the guy above me (Mike) hadn't broken a pipe. Or worse yet, my bath hadn't. When I got in there no water from above but my shower head was facing down on the stool I use for my soaps and it was running, not hard but enough to fill the shower pan. I had just been in there at 8 pm, I live alone, and the shower stall and hoses etc are all new 3 months ago. The water had spilled over the edge so I took care of it all and wiped up the floor with heavy towels.

Fast forward to this morning. I wake up, do my bathroom routine, head to the kitchen for coffee and bring said coffee to lazyboy to read my emails. There on my sofa were the parts of a pen someone had given me recently, taken apart and nicely lined up nex to each other. I had just used it yesterday to make notes on a knitting pattern.

So there it is: I guess I don't live alone??
That's creepy!
 
Well, as long as it isn't Sean Connery. I have reservations for him to come haunt me.....
I was eating dinner one night when he walked into the restaurant with his wife. Circa 1995 so he was deep in his 60s but still looking soooo good. Let me tell you, it took all the restraint I had to not vault over the table and have my way with him.

p.s. He was dining with Sidney Poitier and wife, and he was also gorgeous.
 
I was eating dinner one night when he walked into the restaurant with his wife. Circa 1995 so he was deep in his 60s but still looking soooo good. Let me tell you, it took all the restraint I had to not vault over the table and have my way with him.

p.s. He was dining with Sidney Poitier and wife, and he was also gorgeous.
There some men who just get better looking with age. Sean Connery in his James Bond days didn't move me. An older Sean Connery could eat haggis with me any old time he wanted.
 
Getting back to the long hair, and injecting my hard-nosed realism into the story... you mentioned that you had washed it the previous day. Isn't it possible that some of it went down the drain and got tangled up, causing the water to back up?

I realize that's a pretty boring interpretation, but that's the way my mind works. The ghost theory does make a better story than a plumbing issue, I've gotta admit!

But why would you mention the length of your hair at all, unless you realized all along that it was a hair-in-the-drain problem? Are you just
"having us on?"

About the pen neatly lined up, maybe you yourself did it in your sleep. Have you ever had any indication that you may have been sleepwalking? People do all sorts of things in their sleep, which they have no memory of the next morning.

Obviously, I do not believe in ghosts. But you do tell a good story.
 
Dusty, it is good that the presence doesn't seem to freak you out at all. I find it interesting but, I wouldn't want your housemate in my home!


Going off subject, Sean Connery would be even more unwelcome :(

In a 1965 interview with Playboy: “I don’t think there is anything particularly wrong about hitting a woman […] If a woman is a bitch, or hysterical, or bloody-minded [i.e. argumentative or difficult for no reason] continually, then I’d do it.”

In 1987, he elaborated that slapping a woman was acceptable “if you have tried everything else” — which could happen because, after all, women just “can’t leave it alone” sometimes.

In a 1993 interview with Vanity Fair, in which he claimed that his previous words had been taken out of context—before saying that “sometimes there are women who take it to the wire […] they want a smack.”

In 2005, in her autobiography (My Nine Lives), actress Diane Cilento alleged that he had both physically and psychologically abused her during their eleven-year marriage.
 
I was eating dinner one night when he walked into the restaurant with his wife. Circa 1995 so he was deep in his 60s but still looking soooo good. Let me tell you, it took all the restraint I had to not vault over the table and have my way with him.

p.s. He was dining with Sidney Poitier and wife, and he was also gorgeous.
Wait, wait. They were still alive, yes?
 
Back in the 1960's, I had a part-time job in college working at the national headquarters of a fraternity, putting records on some sort of tape, using a bulky type of typewriter called a Flexowriter. I worked a few hours during the day and another woman came in during the night to do the same thing. She was sort of "weird" (this will be important later....)

I left work one afternoon, everything was turned off and neatened up, etc. When I came in the next morning, there was ink all over the machine, some of the keys were twisted awry and there was a couple of ball-point pens broken and jammed into the mechanism of the machine.

I immediately went to the manager and told him about it. He came to look at it and questioned me. I told him that everything was OK when I left the day before and I could tell he believed me. He went off for a while and then came back and said he had called the "night" woman to ask if she knew anything about it. He looked perplexed.

He said that she had told him everything was OK when she left but that she had been feeling an "evil presence" for a few days and she was sure that the "evil presence" had showed up last night and had been angry because she wasn't there and had destroyed the machine in retaliation.

Now, being the Good 'Ol Alabama Boy that he was, he didn't exactly put it that way. What he actually said was, "HAINTS! SHE SAID IT WAS HAINTS THAT DID IT! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHE TOL' ME IT WAS HAINTS THAT BEAT UP THAT THERE MACHINE??? I TOL' HER THAT IF THERE WAS ANY HAINTS HERE, THEY CAME OUT OF A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS!" and he stomped down the hall muttering, "HAINTS! HAINTS MY ASS! I'LL MAKE A HAINT OUT OF HER SHE EVER SHOWS HER FACE HERE AGAIN! HAINTS!"

I did get the official version later from another employee who said the night woman had the reputation of being rather strange. I only worked there for a couple of months but from that point on, everything that went wrong was blamed on haints. "Anybody know where the XYZ file is?" "Ask the haints." "Has anyone seen my keys?" "The haints took them."

(If anyone is wondering, "haints" is apparently Alabama-ese for "haunts" or ghosts. )
 
Back in the 1960's, I had a part-time job in college working at the national headquarters of a fraternity, putting records on some sort of tape, using a bulky type of typewriter called a Flexowriter. I worked a few hours during the day and another woman came in during the night to do the same thing. She was sort of "weird" (this will be important later....)

I left work one afternoon, everything was turned off and neatened up, etc. When I came in the next morning, there was ink all over the machine, some of the keys were twisted awry and there was a couple of ball-point pens broken and jammed into the mechanism of the machine.

I immediately went to the manager and told him about it. He came to look at it and questioned me. I told him that everything was OK when I left the day before and I could tell he believed me. He went off for a while and then came back and said he had called the "night" woman to ask if she knew anything about it. He looked perplexed.

He said that she had told him everything was OK when she left but that she had been feeling an "evil presence" for a few days and she was sure that the "evil presence" had showed up last night and had been angry because she wasn't there and had destroyed the machine in retaliation.

Now, being the Good 'Ol Alabama Boy that he was, he didn't exactly put it that way. What he actually said was, "HAINTS! SHE SAID IT WAS HAINTS THAT DID IT! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHE TOL' ME IT WAS HAINTS THAT BEAT UP THAT THERE MACHINE??? I TOL' HER THAT IF THERE WAS ANY HAINTS HERE, THEY CAME OUT OF A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS!" and he stomped down the hall muttering, "HAINTS! HAINTS MY ASS! I'LL MAKE A HAINT OUT OF HER SHE EVER SHOWS HER FACE HERE AGAIN! HAINTS!"

I did get the official version later from another employee who said the night woman had the reputation of being rather strange. I only worked there for a couple of months but from that point on, everything that went wrong was blamed on haints. "Anybody know where the XYZ file is?" "Ask the haints." "Has anyone seen my keys?" "The haints took them."

(If anyone is wondering, "haints" is apparently Alabama-ese for "haunts" or ghosts. )
A haint blue porch ceiling is a pale blue paint on porch ceilings, originally used by the Gullah Geechee people to ward off evil spirits ("haints"). The tradition is rooted in the belief that spirits cannot cross water, so painting the ceiling a watery or sky-like blue would trick them into thinking they were either in the sky or a body of water. While the original paint contained lye to repel insects, today the practice continues for its aesthetic charm and for its practical benefit of deterring insects like wasps and spiders.
 


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