A Lady Just Like You

26-04-2014 Saturday

The days are just packed with things. Yesterday we went to Cambridge again. It had been about a month and a half since we last visited my Aunty D. and Dad thought it was about time to go visit her again. I totally agreed with him, because both Auntie D. and Cambridge are well worth it. I don’t know if you remember anything about her, but she’s terrific. She knows everything about Cambridge, she can cook like no other and she’s got a lovely cat called Mew (not Ivor). When we took Cheddar to Grandma Mum thought it would be a great idea to bring Grandma and the dog, but Dad and I both yelled ‘veto’ in chorus and we left. Not that we didn’t want to bring Cheddar.
The car broke down on Friday and dad brought it to the garage to get it repaired, so we went to Cambridge by train. Aunty D. was waiting for us outside the station. You can’t really miss or overlook her. She’s got quite long silver grey hair, a walking cane – because there’s something wrong with her hip – and a big smile on her face telling you that whatever happens to you in life that, too, shall pass. She was waving at us with her brolly that she always takes just in case and she was dressed for winter with a white scarf and a long black coat.
She took us on another Cambridge tour. The best bit this time was The Haunted Bookshop. This little shop is hidden away in a narrow street – Cambridge is full of narrow streets. On the outside the shop is red and white and doesn’t look very haunted to me. The window shop is full of old and expensive books. Most of the time the older the book the more expensive it was. As if paying a pound for each year that the book has survived. On the inside you could smell the old books and it started to feel a little haunted, too.
It’s a very, very small shop filled with hundreds maybe thousands of old books. They even managed to cram in some stairs and the stairs were also full of books. We didn’t go up the stairs, as Mum’s not very good in dealing with tight spots. Some would call it an irrational fear, but with Mum it’s quite rational as she could easily have gotten stuck on her way up. The stairs were too narrow and/ or Mum was too wide. Dad was being a little mean when he said he wanted to put up a sign on her behind saying,’ Caution, Heavy Load’. Mum said Dad was going to go to hell for this remark. They’re such a lovely couple.
The story with this bookshop is that it’s supposed to be haunted by a ‘white lady’ who’s seen walking up and down the stairs every now and again. She’s accompanied by the smell of violets. Should she pass you on the stairs, you’ll smell of violets all day. The only trouble is that, if you see her, someone very close to you (often a relative) is about to die. Even though I’d love to see a real ghost one day, I’d rather not bump into her. It’s said that the shop used to be a pub and she was looking for her husband (when she was still alive) who was probably cheating on her … again.
I’m going to continue my story tonight. There’s lots more things to say as we stayed in Cambridge overnight (that’s why I couldn’t post anything last night). We returned home early this morning and picked up Cheddar at Grandma’s. On the train back I wrote this about the bookshop:

The Haunted Bookshop

A lady just like you
Who does not know what to do
You’re dressed in white and smell of violets
You’re so easy to see through

I’ve seen ghosts do just like you
What’s a ghost supposed to do?

You were looking for your man who had been cheating on you again

Walking down the stairs
With those violets in your hair
The shop’s filled with your presence
Giving customers a scare

I’ve seen ghosts do just like you
What’s a ghost supposed to do?

You were looking for your man who had been cheating on you again

All is well at dead of night
This is what they said
All the ghosts and all the sprites
They’re only in your head

So many a book to read
You’ve seen thousands come and go
While you scare the living daylights
Out of those who do not know

I’ve seen ghosts do just like you
What’s a ghost supposed to do? 

You were looking for your man who had been cheating on you again

Ghost Hunter Man

25-01-2014 Saturday

21.00

ImageI don’t have to come to terms with being on the heavy side, it’s the rest of the world out there; they have to come to terms with me being a bit chubby. The only thing I have to do is to make sure it will stay being chubby (or just athletic) and do not turn into something obese. That is one of the reasons why I have decided to start doing push-ups. I have to do them while my arms can still reach the floor when I’m lying on my stomach.

Today I watched the film Beverly Hills Ninja. It’s not hilarious, but quite funny for an American film. Haru is a rather fat Ninja and not a very good one. While all the other Ninjas are on a mission, Haru has to guard the dojo. A lovely looking lady distracts him and he leaves. I am not going to go into the story any further, the reason I mentioned it is because this Haru character kind of reminded me of what I might grow up to be like if I don’t mind my weight. Also, I was kind of daydreaming about becoming a martial artist myself. As a ghost hunter I think I could use some of those ninja skills (and not just my invisibility skills).

Mum would probably disagree, she doesn’t even know about me being a Ghost Hunter. By the way, did you see my new outfit? I made it this morning. I did not have to sew anything together – thank God. I took one of my old plain T-shirts and painted a logo on it that I designed myself. After that I ripped another old shirt apart and cut a nice mask out of it. I have wondered though how it is that superheroes are not recognized just because they are wearing something over their eyes. Just like that Green Lantern guy; it’s so obvious! I’ll just wear the mask because I think it’s cool and I think they do to. To be honest, I look a lot better in the picture wearing that outfit than I do in real life.

Come to think of it. I guess most people in those films aren’t as pretty as they seem to be on the screen. They are not as pretty as they are. They wear make-up and I bet that with all those new films a lot of retouching is done to make those actors look even prettier. I bet I wouldn’t even recognize most of them if they weren’t wearing their make-up. That is why I have decided never to fall in love with a film star; they’re as fake as can be.

Having said that, back to reality. I am just a normal boy with no super powers, just a cheap superhero outfit that I made myself, but at least I have dreams. It’s up to me – and Mum – to make those dreams come true. Which is why I am going over to Mr Bent’s tomorrow. I know he was supposed to come here, but I don’t think he’ll be coming in anytime soon. Knowing him he’ll just say things like,’ Germs! Germs everywhere!’ Because I had the flu this week.

That’s it for today. I am going to finish up on my report about the Natural History Museum. I got a long way yesterday and I even managed to get some of those pictures up. I don’t if you have looked me up on Facebook already. You should, I could use some friends there. Sometimes it feels I am talking to myself. Cheddar says,’ Woof y’all.’ See me tomorrow.  

The Rock!

07-01-2014 Tuesday

17.00

Yes! I have survived yet another day of school. I am invincible! Although I don’t really know if you could call it a superpower,’ Hi there, random citizen, I am Schoolsurvivor Man, here to serve you.’ No, I don’t think it would work. And I would not look cool in a superhero outfit. Some people just have that; no matter what they wear, they always make the outfit look ridiculous.

Why do they teach all these useless things at school? I want to learn about catching ghosts, but they don’t teach you that. They give you maths, and history and mostly the boring bits, too. The only correct answer I have ever given so far is,’ He died.’ Most likely I will have to learn ghost hunting in my own time. I have already watched the film ‘Ghostbusters’, but I reckon that is not the way to do it. Besides, they have got all these gadgets that cost a lot of money. I think I will have to settle for a DIY ghost buster. I will have to look into these things.

Right after school I started searching the web a little, but there was not much I could find on who Sarah and Philip really were. There were a lot of websites describing the ghost story and sometimes even somebody talking about a sighting of the ghost, some pictures (mostly drawing, actually), but none of the websites I found mentioned anything more about their lives than what I had already heard. There is an air of mystery about this whole thing and it’s not just Sarah being a ghost.

Some things just don’t really add up, but I think that is quite normal with these ghost stories. Most of the time these stories have been passed on from person to person and very little was written down. Information gets lost and changed and stuff. Maybe Mr Bent knows more, but I somehow doubt it. He is not particularly fond of the Internet.

Hark, Hark, Mum is calling. I think from now on I am going to call my house ‘the rock’, because I have been living under it for years now. Seems like I don’t know anything about the world out there. Mum tries to keep me inside as much as possible. I wonder if she thinks I am not ready for the world or if the world is not ready for me. It’s not easy being schoolsurvivor man. So long and see me tomorrow.

The Smell Of Fireworks

02-01-2014 – Thursday

10.00 am

The smell of fireworks is still in the air and people didn’t bother to clean up their mess and they still haven’t. Even though the whole neighbourhood is complaining about it, nobody seems to be doing the obvious … clean up! Stop cursing the darkness and light a candle, for crying out light! If they’d like, I have got a not-so-magical broom that might be of assistance (it won’t be me handling it, though). I think I am one of the few kids around here who just doesn’t seem to know what’s so grand about blowing up money. Because, basically, that’s what lighting firework is.

Luckily for me school is still closed. First day of school isn’t until 6 January. This means I have got lots of time to indulge in my new hobby: ghost hunting! I told you yesterday that I discovered I am no Harry Potter and I am certainly no Jedi either. Neither the Force nor the Schwarz seem to be working for me and Abracadabra definitely has had its best time. That is why I have decided to do something I might just be good at.

Ghosts are all the rage here in England. If you want to find a haunted house, just throw a rock. Each self-respecting town has got its own ghost tours, hundreds of books on where to find which ghosts, tons of websites dedicated to the supernatural, and a country full of believers. To be honest, I have no idea why it is these ghosts are still here. It is said that fireworks were used to scare away those nasty spirits. What with all the loud bangs and booms from two days ago one might think those ghosts would have all left. On the other hand … where would they have gone to? I guess nobody has ever really thought about that.

 

15.00 pm

I told my friendly neighbour Mr Bent I was going to be hunting ghosts. Mum and Dad still don’t know as they have been out all day. They told me where they were going, but I forgot what it was and what time they’d be back. So, it’s just me and Cheddar today. It left a nice little bomb for me on the carpet this morning, because Mum and Dad didn’t bother to tell me I had to walk the dog. Cleaning up dog poo has never been one of my most favourite hobbies, if you can call it a hobby at all.

They left me a little note on the table, well, a shopping list that ended in ‘Love, Mum and Dad’. If only they had left some money on the table, too. I won’t be able to go shopping without any money. I guess we’ll be eating pizza tonight.

Anyways, Mr Bent was very enthusiastic about my idea. He’s already got an idea for my first ghost hunt. There is supposed to be a ghost somewhere at Threadneedle Street. And he was going to tell me all about the ghost tonight. I’ll be reporting back tomorrow about this, because right after his stories I’ll be off to bed. His stories usually scare the shit out of me. He has a knack for telling stories. I bet you’ll be finding out tomorrow.

 

 

 

19.00

Why!? I was so looking forward to pizza. Mum and Dad came home with a big bag full of food. Mum realised she had forgotten to leave money for the groceries and so they did some shopping themselves. This must be some kind of proof that there either is no God or, if there is, he must really hate me (at least today).

Mum made Sunday Roast … on Thursday! This woman must be admitted to a mental institute. Or am I being overdramatic at the moment? I don’t know. Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But geez … something is wrong. Off to Mr Bent.

 

23.00

Dear diary (whahaha, diary, yeah), I was right, his stories nearly made me wet my pants. I was about to go to bed and hide under de blankets. Instead I decided it would be better to hide under my bed. If there were any monsters hiding underneath my bed, it’d be best to join them instead of beating them. I’ll be in bed as soon as I have finished shivering. Hopefully, I won’t wet my bed tonight or have terrible nightmares. I am still not going to go into any details at the moment, suffice to say, you don’t ever want to be going to go anywhere near Bank station, ever again. Never!