Creepy

Dr. Scott: You don't want to hurt anyone.
Samara Morgan: But I do, and I'm sorry. It won't stop.
                                  -The Ring

Loyd Auerbach, parapsycologist

My college once brought in a lecturer who went by the nickname "Professor Paranormal".  One of the things he discussed was that what we often think of as 'ghosts' can actually be something completely different.  For instance, say you move into a new house and repeatedly see a woman in your living room flipping through a newspaper.  If that woman appears the exact same way over and over, never varying her motions or interacting with you, then she is not -- strictly defined -- a 'ghost'.  She is in fact just an image left behind, just like you can take a picture and leave it somewhere.  The image may be of nothing special.  The person who left that 'picture' has no mental connection to it.  They may, in fact, not even be dead.

Here's my thing:
I don't believe I have a sixth sense; and, while I like to think I'm open to the idea of ghosts, I probably would have trouble believing him if a friend told me he thought his little split-level home in the suburbs was haunted; but I totally beleive in these energy pictures.  I'm convinced I've left several myself.

Much of my previous job was composed of completing routine tasks in the same spots every day.  These were tasks I could do without much concentration, so I often thought about other things.  And -- me being who I am -- those other things were usually whatever movie I'd watched the night before.  After a few weeks, whenever I was in a certain spot completing a routine task, I suddenly realized I would be thinking about a movie I'd thought about in this same spot yesterday and the day before that and the week before that. 

My task complete, I'd move on to a different area of the compound to complete a different mindless task, and -- partway through -- realize I was now thinking of another movie that I'd thought of in this spot yesterday and the day before that and the week before that.

The most pathetic thing about all of this was that I often didn't even like these movies, and now I was stuck thinking about them every day.  After months and months and months of this same involuntary subconscious movie reel, my psyche usually moved on to a different movie to think about, but usually one I hated just as much; and always with some sort of connection.  Like I'd start out thinking about Secret Window, which made me think of Maria Bello, so then in a few months I'd be thinking of A History of Violence and -- worst yet -- I'd eventually move on to Coyote Ugly.

See how irritating that is?  Why couldn't I be stuck thinking of About A Boy every day?

So I have to apologize to my former co-workers, who might now stumble into a movie whenever they spend too much time in a certain spot.  They'll see that freaky hair-thing from The Grudge in the middle of a pathway that I used to rake.  They'll have the misfortune of thinking about The Dollhouse when they're using a hose (and who knows if they'll even recognize what tv show it is they're thinking of?).  And they'll have no clue why chopping an apple will make them suddenly feel like hissing "My . . . preciousss".


I apologize to them, and I apologize to Bee, because, like the creepy girl in The Ring, I just can't stop.  Even now, there's an area in Bee's shop where I suddenly find myself thinking about Grand Canyon.  


And, so help me God, I hated that movie.