Saturday, November 07, 2009

Uh . . .

Some clients leave me speechless which, ask Scully, is very hard to do. One person actually gave me a cell number to use and said, "You can't call my home because my wife doesn't know about you."

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Paranormal Activity

Once again, I pestered Mr. Ghostiegurl (a.k.a. Scully) to see a scary movie with me because I dared not go on my own. (He doesn't enjoy going to the cinema and he doesn't enjoy supernatural thrillers.)

Going to see this movie, as it turns out, is one terrifying ordeal. Wow. I even reject some of the plot's presuppositions and I'm surprised I wasn't curled up in a fetal position at the end.

I have to say that I really do like pseudo-verité films (the style works really well when combined with the supernatural). I'm not alone. reported today that the film has surpassed The Blair Witch Project as "the most profitable movie ever" as it reaps ridiculous returns on the initial investment of $15,000 US.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Tonight's Houseguest

Tonight, as we four sat at the supper table in the kitchen, we heard the bells of the cat's ball in the dining room.

"Uh, what was THAT?" Scully asked.

"The cat," I shrugged.

"Uh, the cat's right HERE."

There she was, curled up on the bench beside him. Since we have no other animals, I got up and walked to the door of the dining room and peered inside. Nothing.

"I've been seeing a lot of cat ghosts recently. A lot," said Scully.

Our two cats died about four years ago and we continue to see them around. But Scully . . . He's come a LONG way since we first met. (Hence, the nickname.)

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Unborn (2009)

I'm always looking for movies that will scare me. The Unborn (2009, David S. Goyer) intrigued me but it didn't frighten me.

It had great gothic elements: sanity vs. supernatural, abandoned buildings, strong female lead.

Monday, August 03, 2009

Who's That?

One day this month, I heard my 27-month-old waking up from a nap:

"Who's that? Who's that?" She called out. She had never used that phrase before.

I ran upstairs. "Who are you talking about, honey?"

"That man." She pointed to the floor beside her bed.

There was nobody there. I told her so.

"The man was there."

"Did the man talk to you?"

She nodded.

"What did he say?"

"It's my house."

"He told you it was his house?"

"Yes." My heart pounded. I told her it was our house, our home.

"Did he say anything else?"

"He said 'Thank You'. The books."

"What's his name?"

"Jeff. He gave me my [pacifier]."

My heart jumped. We don't know anyone by that name and it's not a name in the few cartoons that she watches.

She also told me that he often visits her and reads books. I told her he wouldn't be back. Though I didn't see him, I asked 'Jeff' not to return.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Nice to be back

Having resumed readings, I'm pleased to hear that people are happy that I'm back.

I really like the connection that occurs when someone comes for a reading.

Client, yesterday: "Do you remember every reading?"

Well, in a way, I do. Often, a guide that was present at the last reading is present at the next. The same 'sense' of that person comes to me, as well. I remember the person and, if they're sitting before me again, I remember the connection that was established between us. The connection? It's difficult to describe. It's spiritual. I suppose it's ineffable.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

On a serious note . . .

This is the part of who I am that makes me so uncomfortable. Last night, a little boy came to me in a dream and told me he was trapped on a property. He asked me to look around and make note of where he was so that I could get people to find him.

I looked around and I saw the farm-like area, wooden structures. I made note of these structures.

He was extremely agitated. He told me that he had been eating dirt and whatever he could find on the ground in order to survive but that he didn't know how much longer he could do it.

I told him he was dead and he cried, his head in his hands, as he kept repeating, "No, no, no!"

I was so sad for him. Somebody had taken him and left him there. Now, when he said he couldn't be dead, I had to say: "But you must be, otherwise I wouldn't be able to talk to you."

I honestly didn't know what I could do to help him. The area that seems right to me is one of the Canadian provinces -- B.C. Burnaby is associated with the boy so I'm thinking he might have gone missing from there?

Scully told me to write about this because I find it so distressing and because maybe it will help the boy. On the one hand, I know many people will think I'm an absolute whackjob and, on the other hand, I can't deny that it happens to me. I'm not hallucinating; it's in dream-state. I just know from experience that it's someone who wants help. I hope I can help him.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Selective Scare-dy Cat

So, in the previous post, I mentioned that I was generally unafraid of out-of-the-ordinary events.

Today, I'm thinking about the fact that I've seen objects levitate, balls of light, apparitions, ghosts; and, daily, I have ghosts in my dreams, ghosts asking for help, precognitions, premonitions of catastrophes, and accurate feelings of foreboding.

Through the years, I've seen a key melt in the lock of an intensely hot door on the other side of which there was no fire and no heat. I've watched a hanging plant swing back and forth so violently that I thought the hook would be yanked out of the ceiling (no wind, no windows, nobody home). I've had a ghost wake me up and thereby save me and my husband from being burnt in a fire. I've held a remote control while a television flipped through channels on its own. I've tried to shut off a television that came on by itself only to discover that it was in the 'off' position. Ditto a wall-switch-operated ceiling fan. I've even had banging on the walls, and footsteps on the stairs, that was so loud that nobody in the house could sleep.

These are only a few of the events of I've experienced. Clearly, I'm no stranger to the 'paranormal'.

Yet, I still need Scully to stay in the same room with me if I'm watching a frightening movie! That's right. I couldn't watch The Sixth Sense without dear Mr. Ghostiegurl himself being there holding my hand all those years ago. He was recently there beside me -- reading -- while I watched The Uninvited and I STILL had nightmares. And just a few moments ago, I aborted a solo attempt to watch another scary film . . .

Friday, June 19, 2009

Eyeliner, a highlight of my teen years . . .

I always thought it hadn't fazed me in the least.

At twelve, my family became unwitting hosts to what would generally be described as a poltergeist though, myself, I'm reluctant to use such a label. Although I did fit the conventional model for such experiences in the popular school of thought, I don't actually believe that a storm of hormone and emotion typical of puberty was responsible.

There was definitely energy 'focussed' on me but not only upon me. At different times, we were subjected to very terrifying experiences and, yet, I was strangely detached, more an observer who occasionally became annoyed than a victim.

I got a rush of adrenaline whenever my mother described the latest event to which she had been witness but that was it. I didn't want to run under my covers and hide.

When objects of mine were destroyed -- while I and the rest of my family were away -- it definitely niggled. I'd had a wall covered with my favourite posters culled painstakingly from magazines over a period of time. One day, returning from school, I discovered that every single eyebrow of every person in each poster (dozens) had been coloured over with black eyeliner. The posters were ruined! And my stick of eyeliner was lying on my dresser. And I wanted to blame somebody, anybody, even my stepfather who had been at work! But there was no one to blame. No one that I could see, anyway.

Again, I was shocked, my heart pumping as my eyes scanned one end of the wall to the other, but I wasn't truly afraid during this episode or during others (and there were many, many more both before and after.)

I find it interesting that I wasn't afraid.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Naturally . . .

Not all of my dreams, alas, are prophetic in nature.

Over the years, I've learnt to tell the difference between prophetic and ordinary dreams but I did stumble in the beginning, missing the cues that distinguish the two kinds.

In my early twenties, dreams that were prophetic were oftentimes very clearly so. A nocturnal foretelling always spoke to an undesirable event in my own life or to a catastrophe such as a plane (or shuttle) crash.

But as I aged, I realized that such dreams were not always necessarily of something profound and I learnt to identify the nuances that marked more mundane events as well, such as the outcomes of shopping trips or superbowl games (in which I had no interest).

Among the differences, I watch all predictive dreams as if viewing them through a yellowish, grainy film, unable to affect the story's unfolding. They're sometimes fragments and, at other times, they're textured with vivid details.

But, anyway, I'm reminded of those earlier difficulties as I recall a couple of dreams that I've had over the past month of George Stroumboulopoulos from CBC's The Hour. Scully will be relieved that they were of the ordinary kind . . .

Friday, June 12, 2009

Freaky Friday -- and funny, too

So, today I'm working out at the gym and I see a good friend of mine whom I haven't seen in a week or so.

"Hey," I tell her. "I had a dream about you the other night."

OK, she's hooked. She turns away from the direction of the class and moves closer.

"I've had the exact dream twice now."

Her eyes brighten and she has a conspiratorial smile on her face. "What is it???" At the gym, we keep my vocation on the D-L.

"Well, it's strange. You take me to this show of some sort, paranormal in nature with readings, products, etc. But it's in a church basement."

She laughs.

"My (bimonthly channelling) group is having a fair/event. It's in the church basement this summer. Guess I'll be taking you!"

"I guess so! See you there."

"Yep, see you there!"

Sunday, June 07, 2009

My children and their 'friends'

At bedtime, my almost-six-year-old announces:

"At night, the ghosts come and give me Poe (an Ugly Dragon toy)."

"They what? How do you know?"

"They give me Poe. Every morning, I wake up and I have Poe in my bed." But she doesn't fall asleep with the stuffed animal and neither Scully nor myself ever gives her the toy before at bedtime.

But the heart-stopper? My just-turned-two-year-old, about a half-hour later as I'm lying beside her so she'll fall asleep, says:

"Ghost, Mummy."


"There." She points above her.

"Sad," she says using the sign for sad. "Misses me."

"Is it a lady or a man?"

"A man."

"What's his name?"

I couldn't understand her response. My heartrate still has not returned to normal.
The unprepared . . .

I woke up to my own voice and that of Scully's reassurances in the middle of the night. Apparently, I screamed very loudly.

It's going to take a while, I think, to settle my mind after watching The Uninvited. It was suspenseful, a taut thriller, and full of great twists. I don't usually have frightening dreams after watching a movie in this genre.

By the way, I love the window art ;-)

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Dear Ghostiegurl:


I believe my house is haunted. It dates back to possibly 1902 and mainly is drawn to my children which terrifies them. Can anyone help?


I love old houses. I think it's a treasure to have a century home. It's my experience that all houses are haunted regardless of age or location.

As to experiences, some people are more sensitive to changes in their environment and, therefore, can see and/or hear ghosts. Children are extremely sensitive in this regard.

It's natural for children -- for anyone -- to be afraid of the unknown. But, once the experience is normalized for them, children will usually settle down. By normalize, I mean that if children see that others are not afraid and are told that such paranormal activity is pretty common, they will take their cues from us. That being said, it's difficult to contain our reactions when a ghost pops out of nowhere or rocking chairs begin to rock on their own.

However, being the parent, you need to trust your intuition where your children are concerned. Just bear in mind that in my many years of readings and conversations, I have never once heard even third hand that someone was injured by a ghost.

Thanks for writing. Hope this helps,


Sunday, May 31, 2009

Never say never . . .

If I'm really honest with myself, I'd have to say that I didn't want to return to giving readings. The hiatus for me felt liberating because I wanted fewer responsibilities elsewhere in order to take care of my children. I felt pulled in too many directions. But things change. People change. Ghosts pop up in your dreams.

I ended the hiatus today with a scheduled reading for a longstanding client. During the reading, I remembered a dream in which a an elderly female ghost told me: "She needs to know she's dying." I thought, "Wha'?"

My client needed to know that an elderly aunt would pass soon. I hate passing on that kind of information, especially since it can be so vague. Elderly people always pass on! But the ghost -- of a stern disposition -- herself was elderly, with bone-straight, shoulder-length grey hair.

We had a good laugh about the nature of that kind of communication, the client and I, and I raised my voice slightly: "It wouldn't be so bad if I could just have A LITTLE MORE INFORMATION." I looked quickly around me, hoping someone might take a hint.

It brought back the humour to my memory. It brought back the freakin' strangeness of it all. It brought back one more thing in the form of my client's question:

"Do you have any idea how you affect other people's lives?"

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

From Oscar Wilde's The Canterville Ghost:

`My dear sir,' said Mr. Otis, `I really must insist on your oiling those chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small bottle of the Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely efficacious upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that effect on the wrapper from some of our most eminent native divines. I shall leave it here for you by the bedroom candles, and will be happy to supply you with more should you require it.' With these words the United States Minister laid the bottle down on a marble table, and, closing his door, retired to rest.

For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite motionless in natural indignation; then, dashing the bottle violently upon the polished floor, he fled down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and emitting a ghastly green light. Just, however, as he reached the top of the great oak staircase, a door was flung open, two little white-robed figures appeared, and a large pillow whizzed past his head! There was evidently no time to be lost, so, hastily adopting the Fourth Dimension of Space as a means of escape, he vanished through the wainscoting, and the house became quite quiet.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

From the man . . .

"The only real valuable thing is intuition."
-Albert Einstein

Friday, May 08, 2009

Freaky Friday I

The basement was the worst part of our old house. It was old; the stone sweated. The floors were cold and bare and the only time we used this part of the house was to do laundry.

Personally, if I needed to get clothes, I would run down, race to the dryer, and get back upstairs as quickly as I could.

My sister -- six years younger than I -- had a different attitude. While she found it a creepy place, her friends wanted to play there and she ended up spending a lot more time in the basement than I ever would.

(When we first moved in, as I've explained, there were many paranormal events. I remember, especially in the early years, that my stepfather and mother would wake us up with their conversations. They heard loud, heavy footsteps starting at the bottom of the stairs and going all the way to the top, just outside the master bedroom. I heard them, too, but, more often than this, I heard my parents talking about the sound.)

One night, I woke up because -- two floors beneath! -- I heard sounds coming from the basement. It sounded like heavy wood hitting concrete or stone. As my parents and I sat and listened, we heard chop, chop, chopping sounds followed immediately by a hollow-sounding thud (wood on stone). This happened over and over and over.

My mother and I ventured -- on tiptoes, for some reason -- down to the kitchen and approached the basement entrance. The sounds stopped. This happened several times.

When I look back, I shake my head and I think how fortunate I am that other people experienced these events at the same time as I did . . .

Sunday, May 03, 2009

I grew up with 'em . . .

We gave my younger daughter a very large, wooden, Victorian-style dollhouse. It's as tall as she is. The girls love it.

It reminds me of our old family home. We knew the house was haunted -- all of us -- the day that we moved in. At first, we heard footsteps that would wake us all up in the middle of the night. Eventually, it transpired that each of us heard the patter, and the laughter, of children on the front porch and on the stairs in the foyer. Over time, we were able to put names to the, er, faces via the city's registry.

Anyway, the most striking aspect of the children's presence was that it could be heard -- at exactly the same volume -- no matter where a person was in the house. It could even be heard above the din of televisions and stereos.

I heard running, as did the others, and the incredibly faint strains of "Ring Around the Roses."

Frankly, I was still more than a little frightened by the idea of disclosing my experiences to the rest of the family even though we all knew that the others knew about the running on the porch.

One shadowy afternoon, my mother was napping in her room and I was in mine. I heard her call me.

"Yeh, Mum?"

"Will you turn off the TV for me?" My mother didn't open her eyes.

"Oh, you don't want it on anymore?"

"I didn't want it on in the first place. It just came on again." This had been going on since my grandmother had died a few weeks before.

As I was talking to her and turning off the television, I asked her if she'd heard anyone.

"You mean the children singing?"

"Yes!" I was excited. I was relieved. This was good. "What song do YOU hear?"

"Ring Around the Roses."

My sister had heard it, too. And so began the dialogue that, for so many years, nurtured my intuition and perception.

Friday, May 01, 2009

I'm BACK! And Freaky Friday is here.

Well, I didn't actually go anywhere. But, after a 2.5 year hiatus, I'm booking reading appointments again.

It wasn't just burnout that caused me to want to stop that long while back: Having children, requiring childcare, etc. all played a part. Also, I was worried about the stigmatizing effect it might have on my children. But, I've worked it all out and, if I'm very discreet, it can be done.

The last thing I want to teach my children is to be uncomfortable with who they are; but, let's face it, childhood can be difficult where peer relationships are concerned.

My intention is to post daily but, additionally, I want to post weekly about a psychic or ghostly experience.

Let's start now: we'll make it Freaky Friday.

Recently, I had been hearing cupboards door slamming, people walking around upstairs in the evening and during the day. I called out (for I'm a lazy psychic) and asked, "Scully? Is that you?" or "Girls, are you running around up there?"

Of course, Scully was watching a video on his laptop with the HEADPHONES on and didn't even hear me, let alone budge from his comfy spot. And, the girls? They were asleep each time it happened.

No, I didn't think I was losing my mind. I didn't think this each time I felt a presence or when I heard a gravelly voice call my name.

Then, a day after the last event and week after the first, I received a phone call from my sister:

"I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but I just had to tell you! (Terri) died!"

I was stunned, actually. I'd known her for about 33 years. She'd babysat us daily. I'd grown up with her own children.

Then, a phone call to my mother:

"She died last Wednesday, a massive coronary."

"Oh, between 10 and 11 pm?"

"Yes, that's when they believe it happened."

Well, that's when Terri had started visiting me. Slamming my cupboards though? Let's just say, I'm not the most organized psychic nor am I the best housekeeper. She was organized, immaculate. In my own way, I'll miss her.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Dear Ghostiegirl


I have a friend who tells me she sees ghosts that are people and also animals. She says that in the past years the sights have been getting more clear because they use to be just a greenish yellow outline of someone, but now she said she can see what they look like and all. It makes me really curious to think why she sees them? And why cant I? I always thought it was very interesting and would like to see what it'd be like to be in her shoes one day. I was hoping maybe you could give me some answers and if maybe there's any way I could be able to have this gift . . . if I . . . I dunno, practiced or something, lol? Please help! I'd love to hear what you have to say :)


Thanks for writing. I'm finally able to devote more time to answering questions since my younger daughter is older now.

I think your question is a good one. It has stumped and motivated so many paranormal researchers, parapsychologists, and other inquisitive people for many, many years. (I'll try to remember to post some links to the well-established, respected institutions devoted to such questions).

Some people believe that they have a special mental power that is often referred to as a "gift". It's difficult for me to support this because I'm pretty much a pragmatic person at heart.

I only have a theory (and I'm not a neuroscientist) but I believe that there is probably some portion of the brain that allows people to see ghosts and predict future events -- or some neural networks that develop -- via the experience of intuition. Everyone has intuition. The question is: why would it be stronger in some people than in others? My suspicion is that it has to do with early childhood development and the varying need to cope. Whereas everyone has intuition regarding their own lives, for some this intuition is more encompassing or comprehensive.

That being said, can others develop this? I don't know. I don't give advice in this regard because you just never know what the outcome may be. Personally, I pay attention to my dreams because ghosts often visit in this way. I always notice when things are askew in my home, when the temperature has dropped, when objects move, when there is an unknown odor. Also, my older child and my husband both report experiences, too.

Unfortunately, I've seen more than a few people become so obsessed with wanting to have a paranormal experience that it becomes unhealthy for them to continue to try. Also, I've seen people positively frightened after having the longed-for paranormal experience.

I hope I've been of some help.


Sunday, January 18, 2009

O, my!

I've neglected this blog for a long time. It isn't that I haven't experienced anything of the (para)normal; it's that spare time is sparse.

Anyway, to fill you in, as recently as last night the house was astir.

Scully and I were sitting on the sofa watching a movie and I gasped:

"I just saw a ghost." It had taken me by surprise.

"Oh, I felt a presence behind me." He admitted.

"Yes, it walked behind us and into the hallway." It had seemed to be heading into the kitchen.

Although the image was indistinct, I got the impression of a slight, elderly woman who was hunched over a bit.

Then, this morning, I was at the gym waiting for my spinning class to begin. I was upstairs with one other person, a clerk, who was arranging the bicycles.

"Hey," I said. "That door was closed. I know it was."

Neither of us had been anyway near the bathroom nor had we left the spinning room and yet the door of the bathroom was now wide open.

The clerk smiled and looked away quickly but didn't say anything. She looked as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. Sometimes, people are afraid to mention ghosts because they don't know if the other person believes; at other times, people are constrained by rules/regulations as an employee of a company. Whatever the reason for her silence, I could tell she knew something.