Ever since I can remember, I've been really good at losing things. Keys, wallet, Metro Card, kitchen utensils...anything was fair game. My mother used to say, "It's not lost, honey, it's just misplaced." And then, like magic, the object would reappear in just the place where I'd looked five times before, as if to say, Duh, I've been sitting here the whole time!... (From my March 6 Lost Girls post)
I now have reason to believe that the mysterious disapperance of several soup spoons from my NYC apartment (amongst other random objects), may not be a case of careless misplacement, but of a playful spirit who wants his presence known.
You're not convinced? Check out this email I received a few hours ago from my NY roommie, Manjit:
Ok girls I just wanted to share this with you..I met my cousin for breakfast just now and she is staying around the corner [from our apartment] with friends. Over breakfast one of the guys was telling me about his dear friend, Michael, who reminded me of him - he died 6 years ago. This guy was very spiritual, artistic, etc. Anyway they walked me home to my apartment and when we arrived they just FROZE.... Our apartment is where the guy Michael died!!!!!
I told them the story about how my roommates have lost things (remember the pencil sharpner??) and they show up sometimes outta nowhere. They just wants you to know that he thinks it Michael........His bedroom was either mine or Courts.....
So, do you have goosebumps?
Aside from being a practical joker, I think Michael was also a smoker. Sometimes, usually at night, a strong smell of cigarette smoke fills the apartment. None of us smoke, and we always look down to the street but no one is ever smoking down there either.