Alex Camacho
Crosby, TX, United States
Born in Houston, Texas and raised all over living the life of an Army Brat. I Went to eight different schools (three elementary, one middle school, four high schools) and have one little brother who’s not so little anymore. I’ve been married for nearly fourteen years now to a woman who rocks my world and I've been blessed with two wonderful children. Our dog, Sally, is a big black lab saved from a local shelter.
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Saturday, October 11, 2003

Haunted Hospital

I realized something a little weird today.  Yesterday everyone came by to roleplay (micah's GURPS Star Wars conversion game, not mine) at my place. It was sorta last minute plans after I had planned on doing nothing more then vegging out. Trust me, it was no fun trying to do dishes, sweep, laundry and vacuuming a house that hasn't been really cleaned since last week. Nevermind I get winded and go into coughing fits just walking fast with the remains of this flu. I can't even think bout anything too laborious without coughing. Don't get me started. I'm beyond "frustrated". I hate being sick. I reeeeeeaaally hate being sick, but I'm getting off topic.

So once we're all gathered (or at least those of us who didn't beeeey yatch out watching a tv show he coulda recorded!!!!) we were doing the customary gathering of all nerd/geek clans. We gathered around a computer while we discussed the impact of cgi on the movie industry, the deeper meaning behind Nightmare on Elm Street, and where would be a good place to have the piss scared out of us this year for halloween. Somewhere in there we even brought up the holy trinity (Episode IV, V, and VI).  Anyway, while we were discussing this away Derek sat at the helm of the computer looking for somewhere to have the shit scared out of us when he showed us this haunted hospital here in Houston. It looked vaguely familiar but I was too deep in conversation about the new Freddy vs. Jason movie to pay much attention. So we moved on to other subjects eventually making it back to the game room, now that the customary gathering/greeting had been met. So on with the game we went into the early morning hours like the old school gamers we are. Hoooo Waaaaaah!!! *coughing fit*

Today, James calls me up after I just got back from my brothers house painting care bears on his new baby room (Their inducing Xiamara on Tuesday!!!) and asks me if I could look through my history file for the site on that hospital. So I look it up and I get that nagging vague familiar feeling again when I find it. James is talking away to me on the phone when it hits me. I reach into my file cabinet and pull out my birth certificate. Yup, that's the place alright. I was born in a hospital built on the burial grounds of thousands of plague victims. It would later become a juvenile detention ward, a drug and alcohol rehab, and lastly as a psychiatric ward in it's final days. And I was born there. I'm almost proud. I was born in a place of local history, even if it is a little fucked up. I mentioned it to my dad and he says, last he heard, the city is having a problem with homeless people living it it. I made the mistake of mentioning to him I'd like to take a look inside and all he responded back with was, "I think that's called breaking and entering." No matter how cool your parents are, they have their instinctive killjoy parental moments. With proper planning, some flashlights and my digital camera though... I'll keep ya posted. Oh, here's the link by the way. http://www.houstonhaunts.com/articles/jeffDavis/jeffDavis.htm

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