Encounters with the spirits

In honor of Halloween, one of the best holidays in the year, I want to write about ghost stories. I am someone who has always taken scary movies too seriously. I was honestly scarred by The Exorcist. Amazingly, I love to hear about haunting experiences, particularly if they believe it really happened. I have never seen a ghost and I am rather disappointed and hope I do someday....as long as it doesn't hurt me...or follow me around forever...

I have actually gone ghost hunting in Gettysburg, PA. There is a wooden bridge built there in the countryside before the Civil War (Or as some relatives say, the war of northern aggression). Apparently lots of deaths occured during the war on this bridge. Other deaths occured after the war. I went there late at night, it was pitch black there, absolutely NO artifical light. All we had to see with was the light of the moon and a flashlight. I never saw anything with my own eyes but if you took a picture orbs and various gas shapes were visable.

The scariest thing about visiting family in Louisiana were the ghost stories. Everone from my great-grandmother to cousins my age believed and shared stories with me. My great-grandmother insisted a ghost leg would hop around her kitchen on occasion.

My best friend, whom I trust, had a ghostly encounter that I believe. Her dad's house was his childhood home. My friend slept in her deceased grandmother's room when she stayed with him. On a few occasions, she heard her grandmother's musicbox playing, even though it was unwound & closed. She would also wake up with a blanket tucking her in. The covers had been folded up at the bottom of the bed & would have been impossible to do this to herself. Her dad swore he did not touch her blanket. I think grandma may have been looking after my friend....from the beyond.

Anyone (if anyone reads me yet) has an interesting tale...real or not...I would love to hear it!

The nickname

I would like to tell a little story about how I got my nickname, since it is part of my blog title.

Once upon a time there was an adorable baby girl with the given name of Kristina. Alas, and much to her mother's dispair, her extended family nicknamed her Nina. Now Kristina's mother comes from a family deeply rooted in southern traditions (particularly the Louisiana variety) and that tradition includes the requirement that every child have at least one nickname they deem appropriate, if not multiple names or variations on the first. My mother was determined that her precious baby girl have the cutsy nickname of Krissy. That wish was doomed from the start.
Therefore in my family I am called Kristina, Nina, Nina Bina, crissy tina, peanut. That does not include combinations involving my maiden last name.

I got off easy compared to other family members. I have a relative whose given name is Eudolie. According to family chatter and much to the delight of her older sister, Eudolie was a tad pudgy as a child. She was given the unfortunate nickname of Jumbo by the same delighted sister. Unfortunately for Eudolie, the nickname stuck. Today, dispite her fabulous figure, she is called Jum by the entire family, even in her 60s. Ouch!!

I did not know this story until I was an adult and I now feel bad calling her Jum dispite its acceptability by all. So if this tale interests you at all and you feel the need to add to my little story, please feel free to unload your nickname woes and tales ...

First blog EVER...Captivated aren't you!!!

I must be feeling a little bold this week because not only is this my first blog, I just started exploring the blogosphere (I believe is the proper term?) this week. I have mixed expectations & feelings regarding this enterprise...I am a tad scared that someone will actually read this and also that no one will (original, huh).

I am excited at the prospect of exploring my thoughts and feelings a bit more openly, i.e. the world can read about i, but still fairly anonomously.

A few concerns come to mind...
a. I am not a big fan/used to spellchecking myself or sensoring myself much before I speak (write), therefore am opening myself (rather bravely, I might add) to the ridicule of grammar nuts
b. what on earth am I going to talk about that others are not already doing do death?

I think the answer that is fairly obvious... from what I have already noticed at this advanced age...everything I think or feel is being felt or thought of 10 to the 30th power over. Thats ok, I think I will forge ahead anyway.

Have you noticed I use ... when I am not sure how to grammaticly structure my sentences? I did, but I like them...