Last week I visited The Netherworld haunted houses in Atlanta.  In my entire life -- and we're talking 40 plus years, here -- I don’t recall ever going to a haunted house. And why not? Well, probably because I'm a big scaredy-cat. I don’t watch scary movies and I still look under my bed from time-to-time JUST TO BE SURE.  Well, when you have a ghost living in your house, you have to make sure they have not invited any demon friends home for dinner.

Yes, we have a ghost living in our house. She's not a mean ghost, and not even scary. She just wants us to know she's there, so she will turn the tap on full-blast or flick on a light in the kitchen while we are settled in front of the tv. Just to remind us it's her house, too.

So, anyway...maybe it was the fact that I'm getting used to having said ghost in my home, but something inspired me to accept the invitation from a group of grown women to traipse around in the dark of night into the unknown. 

But, there I was, feeling my way through the darkness as bloody people with long fangs and bad breath crept up behind me and whispered in my ear.

I was not alone in the darkness. We were a convoy of women. Six of us. We held hands, grabbed onto each other’s coats, and made our way through the gore and dripping blood (ok, water) like teenagers. Screeching and giggling at every turn.

It was my first time meeting most of the women, who graciously invited me to tag along on their annual excursion and I had a blast. It was funny and scary and I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.

As women we wear so many hats – wife, mother, daughter, sister career woman, house cleaner, baker, grocery shoppe– but no matter where we are in our lives, or how well we even know each other, women connect. Maybe it’s because we all want the same thing: to be loved and to be happy. And along the way — between car pools and staff meetings — we just want to have some fun.