i met agatha for sushi & drinks at silhouette and we talked business. she's graciously taking care of the last minute details with the book, preparing the text and cover so that it can be sent as a pdf to the publishing place, and today several friend photographers have offered to take my portrait for the back cover. i feel blessed, and like the book is going to be a collective piece of art to give to the world. i'm toying around with what costume i want to wear for the photoshoot. should it go according to plans, the book will be available around the beginning to middle of may, offered online and hopefully in local bookstores. fingers crossed for smooth sailing, kids. i'm an aries, fabulous with beginnings and horrible with taking projects to completion. thank goodness i have friends to walk me to the finish line.

i drove past our future house on cherrywood, another manifestation of dreams. it's in a cozy neighborhood that has the old austin charm. i'll have to acclimate to living in a smaller space - 900 square feet total. no dishwasher and a bedroom only large around for a double bed and my skinny dresser. i'm relieved that the process of house hunting is over and done with, but i have so much to do to move in. wish i could be like samantha from "bewitched," wiggle my nose, have these visions happen.

the last time i had a roommate was when i lived in the haunted apartment down in san marcos. we didn't know it was haunted upon moving in, but i can recall having that feeling of being watched from the first night i was there. in the beginning, i tried to shake off those feelings and rationalized that i was simply acclimating to the new space. but always, especially when alone at night, i would have that feeling of someone else being around me. the clocks in our kitchen constantly switched off and turned back on. my alarm clock would go out. i would sometimes have the creepy feeling that someone was standing right behind me in the kitchen, but would turn around and no one would be there. leah had this african clock hanging above the table that had a new battery but mysteriously stopped working. she could never figure out what the deal was.

about a month into living in the apartment, i was home alone one night reading in bed. i glanced up from my book to see an empty glass sliding across the surface of my desk, moving on its own from one end to the next, stopping dead at the edge of the table. it was so startling and surreal that i laughed. out loud. i knew i was not alone and decided to leave until leah returned. when i walked out of the bedroom and reached for the keys, my bedroom door slammed behind me. a hostile gesture.

i got out of the front door so fast that i did not even lock it, and did not have the courage to go back for several hours. i came home and leah was sitting at the kitchen table. the first words out of her mouth were, "hey, thanks so much for fixing my clock." the african clock was ticking away on the wall and i had never touched it. i noticed that the clock on the microwave had switched off again. at that point, i decided to have a candid chat with her, no matter what she thought. our apartment was haunted and i had to talk to someone. so i recounted the details of the evening and she confessed that she thought she had been going "crazy" thinking that someone was watching her, seeing objects suddenly moving out of the corner of her eye, and witnessing the ridiculousness with the clocks.

needless to say, i was spooked that night and had this insane "talk" with the ghost. i told it that this was our home and that i did not want it bothering us anymore. he or she needed to move on to the other side. it was time to go. did i feel that it was still there with us? yes. i could never quite gauge whether or not it was a man or a woman. somehow i sensed it was a male presence and that he liked pulling pranks on us. did i want to stay here? no way. the next day, i told leah that i was moving out. i found someone new to move into the room.

fingers are crossed that the new house is not inhabited by a prankster ghost.