05.06.03 - 8:28 p.m.

So. As promised to myself, here is the story of why the storage space at Liz and Bob's freaked me out so much, and of the haunted dorm.

For a year and a half, I lived in the sorority dorm on campus. We didn't have houses, due to the old law that said more than three unrelated women in a house constituted a brothel, and though the law wasn't on the books anymore, no sorority wanted to be the first to strike out on their own and deal with the increased dues, responsibility and liability fees that came with having their own house. Let the stupid frat boys deal with that.

So, this dorm had been around for quite some time, and was in dire need of renovation. The ghost in question used to live in room 364 or 365, I believe, right around the corner from my room on the third floor. In between my room and "her" room, and on the way to the bathroom, was an old elevator shaft. The metal door had a square glass window, but since the elevator was no longer in service, it just looked into the inky blackness of the shaft.

That stupid window freaked me out. I consciously would avert my eyes almost every time I had to walk by at night. Yet it held such a perverse fascination for me that I wanted to press my face against the glass and try to see anything out of the ordinary inside.

The ghost did haunt a few of my friends, and I think she was responsible for the disappearance of my Simon & Garfunkel Bookends CD. I'm just saying -- I never let ANYONE borrow my CDs, and none of my friends liked Simon & Garfunkel anyway. But other than that, and hearing some strange radio-like noises and voices the last night before summer break, I didn't really have any supernatural confrontation.

Not that I felt let down by that or anything. I believe in ghosts (clearly), but they don't really have to make themselves known to me.