First of all, I have a confession: I have failed at NaBloPoMo. As you can see, I have not posted since Thursday. But that’s not the confession. My confession is: I don’t care. Let me clarify. I love NaBloPoMo. I’ve met some awesome people and got some great inspiration. But I already post nearly every day, and I think an occasional day off here and there to live my life not tethered to a computer is probably a GOOD thing. JP definitely thinks so — there are days she threatens to chuck my laptop out the window.

Anyway, the reason I didn’t blog this weekend was because I was out in the middle of nowhere hunting ghosts. Yes, you read that correctly. JP and I both had the day off on Friday, so we took off for my cousin’s house, an hour or so south of the city. Missy and her fiance, Tyler, had told us all about a local legend involving a young girl named Ruth who committed suicide by jumping over a bridge. Supposedly, Ruth still haunts this bridge, which is right next to a church on an old dirt road in the middle of nowhere. According to local legend, the lights in the church flicker on and off in the middle of the night, as if someone was walking through the rooms turning lights on and off as they go. And if you put a Baby Ruth candy bar on the bridge at exactly midnight, then return to your car (out of sight) for five minutes, the candy bar will be gone when you return.

JP and I are both great lovers of ghost stories, so we couldn’t wait to get out there and see if we could create one of our own. Missy and Tyler knew vaguely where the bridge was located, but they were fuzzy on the specifics. So a couple friends of Tyler’s volunteered to lead us there. Unfortunately they turned out to be total flakes who had no better idea how to get there than we did. We left at around 9pm, and after three false starts (because these friends had to make random stops) we were finally on our way at around 11pm. By this time, the four of us were fuming, and we were anxious about getting there in time to put the candy bar on the bridge. Finally, we approached the dirt road. It was more than just a dirt road; it was was a private dirt road, winding through a timber yard. The trees were thick and without lights of any kind, the stars above were stunning. It was gorgeous, but creepy. Unfortunately, the creepy factor wore off by the time we found the bridge…three hours later. By that point, the only thing we were afraid of was running out of gas. The ghost hunt was a bust — the bridge was anything but creepy and we saw no evidence of supernatural activity.

But we had a great time, so it wasn’t a total bust. And the hunt continues — we’re looking for a new legend to test.

In other news, JP is sick as a dog. She woke up yesterday complaining of a stomach ache and it was all downhill from there. I’ll spare y’all the nasty details, but I’m crossing all my fingers that I don’t get it too. She’s home in bed now sleeping it off (and infecting the house with her germs).

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