So, inspired somewhat by theorris's taggin me to name things I love, I thought I'd start a new thing. I have some weird memories that I know are all jumbled up, and cannot possibly exist exactly as I recall. Here's a weird one:
Senior year of high school, hanging out late at my house with my friend Mike. We get a frantic call from our bizarre Finnish foreign exchange friend Mika Salakka, screaming and ordering us to pick him up at his house and drive him to the zoo. He was literally completely hysterical, and it would take about 10 pages to describe this guy's sense of humor. The most pain in the ass sarcastic outrageous person I've ever known. He used to steal my car without the keys--not even hotwire it or anything, just put it in gear and start 'driving' it. We almost got arrested at a hair salon once. Just trust me--Mika was out of control.
So--we go get Mika, and he was so excited he decided to start walking to the zoo. We found him on the way, and at some point, my best friend Monique ended up in the car too. Turns out his host mother Marcia worked at the zoo, and a giraffe was giving birth. Mika wanted to deliver the giraffe. But, by the time we got there, it was already born.
But, that is not the weird part. I have a memory of all of us sitting in the cage, on a loft, amid hay and stuff. Mika was eating gorilla biscuits, and they were so disgusting...really homemade looking and all slopped together, and they stunk so bad. I know the part about him eating the gorilla biscuits was real, because we gave him all kinds of crap about it for months.
I looked it up, and there was a giraffe born at the World Famous Topeka Zoo in Oct. of '84, named Dolly.
I will get Monique to read this and compare her memory.
I tag the first 2 people who read this to offer up any weird memories.
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When I was 15 years old, a family friend hosted her 14 year old niece Ana from Mexico for a year. Ana and I became friends, and it was somehow decided that during the summer between my Junior and Senior years, her older brother and I would swap places. I'd live with their family in Guadalajara for the summer and he would live with my family in Los Angeles. Before leaving for Mexico, Ana and I spent a day Magic Mountain (a large amusement park outside LA.) The lines for rides were horribly long, and we spent over an hour in line for the Colossus roller coaster. During the wait, I had plenty of time to tune in to the people around us in line. Behind us was a group of men from Mexico. They seemed to be mostly in their 30s, and to my eye, almost seemed to be in costume, so unique was their dress. Ana kept whispering things like "They're cowboys, and they're horrible. Don't look at them." I couldn't tell what they were saying, but she was clearly disturbed by it. They looked so interesting though, so exotic and so unlike the urban-styled Mexican Americans I knew. Over the next hour, I kept sneaking looks at one man. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to glow from from his sunburned face. He had dark thick coiffed hair that looked right out of the 19th century, an ornately styled shirt that still defies description, and these spectacular boots - black with elaborate colorful floral appliques and tall stacked heels slanted in at such an angle I couldn't imagine walking in them. Those boots. I was so taken by those boots.
Fast forward a month later. I am now in Guadalajara, and have gone to the giant San Juan de Dios Marketplace. Outside on a huge amphitheater-like stairway I am sitting by myself, waiting for the family when I hear a click click click behind me. I turn my head, and clicking down the stairs beside me are these incredible black and floral boots! I look up and I swear to God it was the cowboy. He didn't see me, and I didn't say anything. I just sat there stunned and spooked by the complete impossibility of it all. Thirteen hundred miles away!
Bizarre and fabulous! It could fall under a MIB story. Thanks for sharing; I loved it.
Is it remotely possible that Ana's extreme reaction was due to a personal recognition of these guys?
I think she recognized a familiar "type" but when I asked her about them after the ride, she never gave any indication that she knew them or had seen them, or identified them as looking like they were from her part of the country. I don't even know that they were.
As for what they were saying, it was pretty standard lecherous commentary from a bunch of rowdy guys who thought no one in earshot understood their language and who were certain they'd never see any of these women again!
When I was around 15-16, I used to head up the street to a large playground area on clear nights with my 3-inch reflector telescope to look at the stars, planets, and nebulae. (It worked amazingly well for a cheap "toy".) It was here that I had a minor UFO experience. I watched as a star-bright object moved across the sky. I knew it was not an aircraft, and at first assumed it was a satellite traveling on its straight, swift course. But then it made a very sharp U-turn -- something a satellite cannot do (neither can a conventional aircraft) -- and then dissolved away into nothingness. But that isn't the strange part. Very often on these dark nights, alone beneath the canopy of the Milky Way, I would challenge God to make himself known to me. (I was searching, searching, searching in those days. Not that I've stopped.) God didn't respond. But something is the shin-high grass did. I heard something stirring in the grass down there, and it was heading my way, quickly. It scared the crap out of me. I picked up my telescope and backed up as quickly as I could, keeping the thing in front of me. Then I turned and high-tailed it out of there. What was it? A rat? A snake? Had I stayed, would God have risen up out of the grass and answered all my questions? Or maybe it was the Devil himself, rushing up from the depths to take possession of my soul before God even had a chance to answer. Which reminds me of another weird episode. One day I was riding in an elevator in the building where I worked in Manhattan. There were two or three other people in the car, including a scraggly-looking fellow with an unkempt beard and piercing eyes. The elevator stopped on my floor, and as I'm about to step off, this fellow turned and looked at me with his dark, sharp eyes and said, "You've got the Devil in ya." Holy crap! Obviously, I can't forget it, and it's messed with my head ever since.
You've never told me those stories! I'm so glad I posted this.
So--did the elevator guy pronounce it "dee-vil?" Because that would have been really funny.
For the record, you don't have the devil in ya.
Is this post-about.com? If so, is it possible he recognized you from your photo?
This was pre-About.com. I'm pretty sure he was a homeless nut. Maybe that's all he did all day: ride up and down in Manhattan skyscrapers cursing the Devil on people. And two 50-ish looking guys, dressed only in suits (it's cold and snowing outside) and sunglasses, and carrying Bibles, just came to my BACK door. Jahovah's Witnesses, no doubt, but these guys looked like bankers.
And he said, "You've got the Devil in ya" in a very direct, almost threatening way, which is what really freaked me out about it.
One more thing... the banker Jahovah's witnesses... the bigger guy starts out with: "Hi. We're from Dolgeville, just so you don't think we're from Mars...." What the hell?
You have to be kidding? That is almost a real MIB story.
That reminds me of a weird Jehovah witness story. We were in Kansas as my father was dying; the night after his death, of course people were coming over (we were staying at my mom's house) to see us and to make arrangements and whatnot. The doorbell was ringing constantly, so I didn't even think to check to see who it was. The bell rings, I open the door, and it's two Jehovah witnesses tracting. They go through their thing, whatever it was, and I just told them we weren;t interested and busy because there was a death in the family last night. You should have seen their faces. They were so upset, like they'd never heard of such a thing. I'm sure it was unusual to encounter something like that when you're just going about your business as usual, but they really freaked out. "Oh, I'm so sorry" "Is there anything we can do for you?" They were really uncomfortable, and distraught over the idea, and ended up just giving me almost all their literature, and even a couple books out of their briefcases. It's pretty silly, but I found it endearing later--it's all they had with them and just wanted to 'give.'
Here's the rest of the story. From my office, I have a good view of the back road-driveway. And I saw these two banker-Jehovah's Witnesses approaching. I thought it was odd that these were just in suits, considering the weather. I kiddingly thought to myself, "Here come the MIB (or CIA) to talk to me about my website." So after they started in about the Bible, I politely dismissed them, and they headed off to the one house further down the road (which is a dead end; there's no where else to go, or come from). A few minutes later, I see them walking back down the road, but accompanied by a third guy, dressed in a jogging suit. Where did he come from? He isn't a neighbor. Also, I thought it odd that they did not at least try to hand me a copy of "The Watchtower." There's always the chance they were not JWs, but some other sect that Dolgeville has spawned.
Has anyone ever *been* to Dolgeville? Are we certain it's *there?*
I mean--it is an anagram for "Old Evil Leg." and "Ell Evil God."
and "Old Dill Veg" and "Dill Log Eve." and "Old Gel Veil."
And not least, "Lo! Devil Gel!"
Not paranormal in anyway but still strange...
When I was a fifteen Sophmore in High School (four years ago) my name was called over the intercom for me (and many others) to pick up things in the office during lunch. So I went in and the lady hands me a plasitc bag full of hard boiled eggs, and they were peeled of the shell. Now, of course I was wondering what the heck was going on so I asked the lady if she was sure they were for me and she said yes (I didn't ask for any information about who dropped it off which still bugs me to this day) and I told my friends and they laughed about it. I never ate them and because there were a few other Jamie's in the school I asked if maybe it was one of theirs. They all told me no. That was strange and I don't know if i will ever figure it out haha
This only happened last week, but the weird, WTFness is sure to become a nagging memory. I was getting ready to take my daily run on the country lane that runs next to our house when an SUV pulled into our driveway. A big black dog sat in the passenger seat. The driver, a 60ish woman wearing a stocking cap and bulky coat, climbed out but didn't approach me. She said that she had been about to walk her dog when she saw two coyotes running through the vineyards. The threat they presented nixed her planned walk and made her feel duty bound to warn residents of the danger. I expressed some surprise since my family and pets have lived here--alongside an active coyote run--for 15 years and never had a problem, especially in broad daylight. She said she, too, walked this road nearly every day and hadn't had a problem, before. However, she knew a policeman who had been attacked by coyotes while walking his K9 partner and now understood that "coyotes will attack anything." Why her story didn't sound bat sh**t crazy to me, I don't know, but I did as she said and skipped my jog and kept my pets inside. That night when I told my husband, he gave me an eye-rolling, "you-know better-than-that" look. "Coyotes?" he said."Attacking a cop and his German Shepard? I don't think so? Who was this good Samaritan?" Only then did it dawn on me that I'd never seen the woman or her big black dog before. So, who was she? On the strangeness scale, this falls on the low end, I guess. It's slightly odd for someone to drive house-to-house warning country people about dangerous coyotes, but no doubt the woman had her reasons. What I can't explain are my reasons for making her queer fears my own.
Back in the mid 1980s I worked at the University of Kentucky. One morning I was driving in to work, and noticed a young man standing on a street corner, waiting to cross the street. His head was the same size and shape as an old-fashioned manual typewriter; it looked literally as if the skin of his head had been stretched over a typewriter. I know I wasn't imagining this--I drove within 15 feet of him and got a very good look at him, both in frontal and profile view.
My family once had a cottage in the Muskoka area of Ontario. I used to go up there all the time when I was young. I remember one time, around 10 pm on a winter evening (it was distinctly winter), my mom, grandma and maybe a few uncles were sitting on the front porch of the cottage, that overlooked a lake. Across the lake, I could see a light moving across the sky. It was acting strangely - kind of like the way the pong ball looks as it is batted between the two paddles over the black background. The light was "bouncing" back and forth across the sky at a moderate speed. It was a single light, too. I pointed it out to everyone, and we watched it for a while. Of course, the word 'UFO' came up, but for some reason, we had decided it was a blimp. I don't think I even knew what a blimp was, but I was sure that's what it was! All of a sudden, as we were all staring at this light, a giant cartoon spider fell from the top balcony down to the porch where we were sitting. I think it landed on my grandma. We all started screaming, then we noticed that the "cartoon spider" was actually a beach towel. But, I honestly and clearly remember getting a good look at it as it was falling, and it looked just like a black cartoon spider - complete with googly eyes. It's not even like the beach towel was black or anything. It was white. Also, what were we doing with a beach towel on the balcony in the middle of winter? We'd hang our wet towels up on the upper balcony to dry during the summer, and I know it was winter because I was wearing my snowsuit that day.
Out of nowhere, we all seemed to forget about the mysterious light across the lake, and went inside to watch tv.
BTW I was about 6 or 7 years old when this happened....
and I hadn't been drinking!
Lulz to Stephen - there was a guy in my townhouse complex who insisted every car was made "by the devil" (and he did pronounce it Dee-Vil!) Apparently he had been hit by a car one too many times!
I would love to post my story here, but it is far too long to do so. So, here's a link:
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=273907883&blogID=324920085&Mytoken=B061A3E4-9B41-4B37-AC5F242C87505D0915834529
No, I am NOT spamming here. The link is long because I had to make sure it lead to only one post in my blog. I'm not advertising my blog here (people will come if they want to, I won't persuade them), just sharing my story.
Also, please forgive any errors, I'm sorta new using MySpace and replying on Blogger.
The weirdest, bordering most beutiful or eeriest (yes, both of those feelings together) memory that I have had recently came from this August. A city nearby my home was hosting "the american folk festival" and I was there, walking with my cousin, uncle, mom, and sisters. We were headed back to my car at the end of the day, and there was a huge crowd which was also headed back home. All of a sudden I saw a girl who looked exactly like my friend from behind. In any other case, it probably would have been her because she absolutely loved the folk festival which happened every year. I almost shouted at her, but then I was taken back when I realized that this could not possibly be her because she had died in a car accident in May. This may seem like just a very interesting coincidence, but I still keep this memory very close to me because I had this extraordinary feeling of happiness I had when I the phantom girl. I felt so at ease. This is is only one of the many supernatural or just beautiful things relating to my deceased friend that have happened to me this year, and it has given me a very good outlook on life after death.
and by the way excuse the horrible grammar included in my post. :)
I have some weird experiences that I don't remember, "missing time" by definition, although I'm not sure whether or not they're connected to the alien abduction phenomena.
When I was married and lived in an apartment near San Diego, my wife and I were doing laundry. We would take a few loads of clothes down to the laundry facility, then come back up to the apartment. Well, she tells me (I don't remember any of it) that we went down, put the clothes into machines, then came back up as usual. She says when we got back up we were both exhausted and confused for some reason. We looked at a clock (to time the wash cycles downstairs) and found that over 3 hours had gone by. The laundry facility was in the apartment complex - less than a 5 min. walk from our place, it should have been like 15 min. later, not 3 hours.
We thought the clocks were broken or something, so we checked the computer clock and every watch we had, but the time was right. So we went downstairs to look at our clothes, and they were still in the washers, but they were damp (not wet) and cold. This is all just what she told me, but apparently we finished the laundry after freaking out a little, went to bed, and forgot all about it until months later when she remembered it and asked me if I remembered.
There was another time when I was working graveyard at a gas station. The woman I was working with was all angry with me and asked me what I was doing all night a few nights back. I said I was here and she said that I was there for a little bit, but I had gone outside to clean and didn't come back the whole night. She said she got worried after having not seen me for a while and walked all around the station looking for me, checked the bathrooms and coolers, everywhere, then figured I decided to just go home and leave her there by herself (which is pretty dangerous given the time of night and location).
I was shocked and thought she was messing with me, but she eventually convinced me that she was serious. I apologized a million times and told her I had absolutely no memories of that night aside from driving to work, which is the truth to this day.
I just remembered a little detail about the last one - evidently I came back into the gas station an hour before the shift was over that night, looking all pissed off and disheveled, so my friend decided to wait until later to ask me about where I had been. She said I was really quiet and didn't even look at her after I got back. Something like 6 hours were missing that night.
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