Casper/Carl .. the friendly ghost

Gosh, I used to LOVE this cartoon...(if you are younger, you may not remember) cute little Casper, "I don't want to scare people, I just want to be friends"...(famous last words!) I could actually have his catch-phrase wrong, so do share, my pray-tells, the proper phrase if you know it!

My apartment in Hollywood was probably built in the late 60's, early 70's. Much to my happiness, there are barely any earthquake cracks and its very quiet (with the exception of the occasional roaring blare of "Dance Party USA," Russian-style, but that's another story).

I feel very safe there. I know my most of my neighbors and my landlord and his wife are very aware of their tenants and whose coming and going.

About a year ago, I was watching TV, with Kitty, who was fairly new in my life. As I was watching the tube, I "felt" like someone was watching me. It was coming from my kitchen. Since my living room and kitchen are like one, I was not looking too far. I then kept noticing Kitty staring over to the kitchen.

After that night, more often than not, I noticed more and more "feelings," accompanied by shifting noises and such. I would then watch Kitty, staring into thin air.

Chills, right??

Over the next few months, I still felt it. A male presence. Nothing alarming. Just a feeling.

My BF was staying with me for a while this past year. She was home sick and had fallen asleep on my couch. That night when I returned home, she said, "It was so weird. I can't tell if its because I am sick or not, but I swear there was a man in here watching over me."

Ironically, as we spoke of "him," we'd both felt the same: he was big, he was lurky, but not scary. I described him as the Billy Bob's character in the movie, "Sling Blade."

Over time, he started moving a little more. I "felt" him only in the kitchen and occasionally in the living room, but it was never scary, just "that feeling." When I felt it, I would talk. "Hey, how's it going, you. You are fine here. Just don't scare me, aw-ight??"

At the beginning of this summer, I had eye surgery. My friend D came to stay with me. We'd lit candles around my house and were talking. As we spoke, I felt him peering at us, near a wall. My friend D, without me saying anything, was watching that spot and asked how long I'd had a ghost. I spoke of "him" quite openly. She said she sensed a big man, slow, lurky…and almost simultaneously, we called him, "Carl."

Of course, we were both freaked out as we said it. Since that day, I have never "seen, "felt," or "heard" from Carl again. Reminds me of a dyslexic version of "Beetlejuice."