contacting the dead and other fun games

Ouija Board. I think we all can remember our first terrifying experiences with this Parker Brothers goldmine.

I was 8. My friend Andrea and I were playing our usual games of dress-up, feeding her goldfish and choreographing rollerskating dances to Ace of Base songs. Then, Robin showed up. Robin was your "know-it-all gutsy girl." I did not like her for the fact that she always called me a "sissy" when I didn't want to climb a tree or play football. It made me even more mad that Andrea liked her.

"Hey, guys, look what I've got." Robin proudly displayed her new game in front of her.

Any game I can't pronounce is not a game I feel like playing. Move on, Robin.

"Ooooooh! You got an Ouija Board?" Andrea's big mouth flapped.

"Yeah! Let's go in and play!"

So, we followed Andrea into her house and set the game up on her coffee table. Andrea's little sister joined us as well. Both Robin and Andrea excitedly explained the game to me and said they would go first to demonstrate the awesome supernatural effects. The girls placed their fingertips on the sides of the indicator and began asking questions.

"Okay, does Andrea like Ben?"

Indicator points to "YES."

"Ahhhhh!!! Oh my gosh you TOTALLY like Ben!! HAHAHAHA!!"

About four more questions were asked in this fashion when Robin said it was my turn. I took Andrea's spot and Robin proceeded with, "Okay, we are going to try to contact my dead Great-great Grandmother. Her name is Beatrice. I want to find out how she died. We have to concentrate really hard."

Whoa!? Wait, what? Now I'm scared. The last thing I wanted was to provide Robin with any more ammo of how chicken I was, so I pushed forward.

"Dear Great-great Grandmother Beatrice. Are you there?"

Indicator points to "YES."

"Can you tell us how you died?"

Indicator points to "YES."

"How did you die?"

Indicator points to "M. U. R. D. E. R."

"Guys, I don't want to play anymore."

"Come onnnnnn, Karen! Give me a break. We are finally making a connection." Robin continues.

"Who murdered you, Great-great Grandmother Beatrice."

The indicator moves around in circles.

"Is it someone in THIS room?"

The indicator point to "K. A. R. E. N."

"OKAY! I'M DONE!" I waved my hands in the air. "Look, I have never murdered anyone before. NEVER! I wasn't even alive when your great-great grandmother died!"

"I'm pretty sure she died last year...soooo you would have been alive." Robin always had a comeback.

'Well, I didn't murder anyone!" I ran home.

My mom had dinner for me waiting on the table. She sat next to me and asked about my day. I told her how upset I was because of the Ouija Board and I was being accused of murdering Robin's relative. My mom told me that we were going back over to Andrea's house after dinner and she would force the girls to tell me it was just a game.

I really, REALLY did not want to go through with that due to the inevitable humiliation and teasing that would take place at school the next day. However, I was curious if this was just a joke or if I had unconsciously killed Robin's dear grandmother the previous year.

Mom and I knocked on Andrea's door and both girls answered.

"Hi girls. So, Karen tells me you were playing with the Ouija Board and someone said she murdered a grandmother? Karen is really scared and it would be nice if you told her it was just a game and you made it all up."

Andrea and Robin looked at one another. Startled that a mom had to come over and reprimand them, they cowardly said, "Yeahhhhh, Karen, it's just a game. We made it up."

You would think that would have been enough for me. You would think I wouldn't have been such a gullible child. You thought wrong. I had bad dreams for a week about ghosts and angry grandmothers. To this day Ouija Boards still make me uncomfortable. Even though the new design makes it less authentic looking, the purpose is one I am not going to mess with. However, if YOU are one that enjoys the evil crafts that exude from playing this nightmare producing game then here is a friendly link to ask a cyber Ouija Board all your deepest, darkest questions! Have fun!

confessions of a wannabe bad girl

The first time I ever REALLY lied to my parents was my senior year of high school. Keep in mind, I was a good kid. Good grades. Good friends. Good morals. But, oh, was a rebel on THIS particular day! My friends/accomplices, Taylor, Marie and Elise wanted to go to Seaside Heights immediately following school and stay for the night.

Seaside Heights. Treasure of the Jersey Shore. Where teenagers go to escape the everyday tortures of adolescence by partaking in trashy forms of debauchery. Which, naturally, is why MTV held their annual "Spring Break" extravaganza at this very location that year. At the time, I had a wild crush on Gideon Yago, who was an MTV News Corespondent and I had high hopes for meeting him, falling in love and getting married (it didn't happen.....in case you were wondering).

Knowing my parents would never allow me to attend a location with such a corruptive reputation, we had the original idea of telling my mom I was staying the night at Taylor's. I would pack my bag and take it to school that day. Told mom I wouldn't be getting back home until late the next day because we might see a movie at the local cinema.

It. Was. Foolproof.

The girls and I left for the horizon once the last period bell rang. I made an 80's compilation CD for our ride down, as we all enjoyed the classics of our time. I believe "Mr. Roboto" was playing as we pulled into our motel parking lot. The motel "contract" stated only two people were allowed to check in the room. Did we care? Nope. We had four....FOUR girls. Taylor and I lied at check-in to say it would only be the two of us. Felt like a true rebel, I did.

After checking into our room we decided to check out the boardwalk scene. Unfortunately, the weather was not on our side this particular weekend and we dodged the raging wind and rain by exploring the variety of arcades on the pier. Immediately, we were confronted by a local Christian television station who persuaded us to answer particular questions about our faith. Being a Catholic youth group leader, I decided to take the reigns. I figured that if I indulged them my karma would be redeemed from when I lied to Mom earlier.

That evening we ruled the boardwalk. Specifically, because no one was there due to treacherous storms that were impending over our weekend getaway. We decided to call it a night around 9pm when we were greeted by a police officer outside our room. Immediately, we panicked because we thought we had been figured out that we had more than two occupants in our room. So, we hid the other culprits under the bed. As wristband holders, Taylor and I answered the door.

::knock, knock::

"Ummm....hello....Officer?" Taylor confidently said.

"Hi, girls. Would you mind stepping out for just a bit?"

"Sure?" We both replied, hearts racing.

"So....you girls having a fun time? Enjoying your stay at Seaside Heights?" the young officer inquired.

"Yeahhhhhhh....."

"You....staying out of trouble?"

"Yeahhhhhhh......"

"That's good. We don't really like trouble."

"Yeahhhhhhh......"

"You seem like good kids. I'll let you go back inside. We just are checking the rooms. Making sure you aren't drinking or smoking the mary-ja-wana."

"Yeahhhhhhh......not us."

Taylor and I walked back inside not sure how to interpret the conversation. Did we look like the type to indulge in alcohol and drugs? Was he hitting on us/looking for some pot? Regardless, we breathed a contaminous breath of whatever that wallpaper was made of and proceeded with our games of M.A.S.H. and astrological readings.

The next day we did what your typical "rebellious" good girls do. We got henna tattoos that we weren't sure the meaning of. We took old Western photos exposing us holding booze and revolvers. We ate a pizza that was 24 inches in diameter. We may have even talked to a boy or two.

That was the best weekend I had ever had up to that point in my life and an amazing end to my senior year. I'm still not sure if my mom knows where I was that weekend. All I know was that it was a story I could take with me as a college freshman. It would eventually lead me to other forms of "rebellion" such as going out on a Wednesday night to the one club that would allow 18-year-olds or skipping class to play SIMS. You betcha, I was one girl you did not want to get mixed up with.