Disbelief

So yesterday I went to see a psychic. I know, it's silly. But there was a "Summer Psychic Show" at the House of Broel here -- and that alone promised to be entertaining between the crazy people who wanted to see the psychics, and the psychics themselves, and the poor unsuspecting ladies who were just trying to look at wedding dresses.

I went with my favorite toddler and her mother, expecting it would simply be amusing. Although perhaps we both were thinking about having a reading done in the back of our minds...

After fighting through everything you have to fight to get a 3.5 yearold anywhere, we finally escaped the summer heat, and paid our $10 for a crescent moon stamp with stars (seriously?) and took stock of the room. The front room was full of the cheapest crystals and fake jewelry you can imagine. An emaciated tarot reader who had no clients was getting his chakras cleaned by a woman who was swirling what looked like two ball point pens around in circles through his aura. She carried a baby and looked none too amused, but the tarot reader seemed to believe there was some relief.

There was an "energy doctor" who had the kind of arrogance one has when you have been doubted your whole life but you are certain that what you are telling people is true. Like that if he puts his hands on you he can correct your spiritual flow it would give you more energy than you knew what to do with. For only $15 for the first 10 minutes. There was a very energetic young psychic with a pink tulle dress and feathers in her hair and too much makeup who seemed to have a ton of people waiting for her to give them a reading.

My friend and I settled on the woman with the shortest line.

I would imagine that being in this "alternative energy" line of work gives you a lot of confidence. Or that you must have an extraordinary amount of faith in your "powers" to continue to do it. Or perhaps you're just crazy enough that all the doubting Thomases don't make you quit and just get a real job making lattes.

So I sat down at this table with a purple tablecloth and then a glittered runner, sitting across from My Psychic. She had lots of makeup. She was married, I noticed. I wondered if she could tell what would happen in the future of her marriage. I wondered if her husband had a "normal" job. Like construction.

She asked my name, and then whether I wanted a specific reading or just something general. I surpressed a chuckle and looked at my friend, and just said "I don't really have any questions... just a general reading." And then she started writing on a sheet of paper. Furiously. In turquoise ink. She would stop occasionally to ask me questions: "is this your first reading?" "do you have a car?" "Are you in a relationship?" She made her way down the sheet of paper and then moved to a second column, writing herself notes with arrows from one idea to the next. I watched her right upside down things like "Water" "blue" "wiper blades" "relationship" "comfortable" and "water" again. And then she wrote down "do something you have never done before," and she stopped to tell me she never wrote in sentences, so we would have to pay special attention to that later.

And then she began my "reading." She said I was starting something new, and then I was anxious about it but it was a great opportunity. She asked if I was planning to get a haircut (I had one last weekend). She said I should do yoga (which I do); that I found a lot of spiritual connection there (which I do). She asked me if I drank a lot of water... and that was when I started to get a little freaked. I did, I told her, and I never feel like I'm drinking enough. She nodded, like she wasn't surprised.

She saw I was in a relationship, and that we had just had a fight, but that things were better. She asked about whether we lived together -- she saw something funny there. I told her we had considered it, but decided against it. She said that was good, that I should keep my own space. She said I could get close to him, but that I needed to keep some space to myself. She hesitated... she didn't want to tell me, but did: "I don't think he's the one for you."

We went on... I should be careful with my car, not to let it run out of gas. (I usually push it way past empty). That I should get my oil changed regularly (I often wait 6 months or more), and be careful with my tires (one keeps going slowly flat). And something about my wiper blades... they are sticking (I have no idea). I told her about my thematic dreams about cars and driving, and how metaphorical they are for me. For 10 years I have been dreaming about cars -- whether because I'm on a long (life) journey, or I'm driving (and in control) or someone else is (and thus I'm out of control)... the last few years I have had dreams about not being able to break, which I suspect has to do with me feeling like my life is going to fast and that I can't control it to keep it safe. She nodded. This all sounded familiar.

Then she mentioned how calming water was to me. Whether it was a fountain or a lake, that I find serenity there. And I have always felt strongly about living close to water -- it's one of the things I love about New Orleans. And we came to the sentence; and she reiterated how important it was for me to do something I hadn't done before... maybe something I had been planning to do or wanting to do for a long time. That now was the time.

Oh, and then she said I was overdue for an eye exam.

I went back and asked her more about the Boy. And she said I was 85% in, but that deep down, somewhere, I knew I was settling. And that if I believed there was someone else out there... just a little... that there was someone out there with whom I could be 250% in. Then we talked about medical stuff and she suggested I take some Aleve.


So here's the rub. I can't figure out how I feel about all this "psychic" stuff. After I was done and thoroughly freaked out, she read my friend while I watched the terrible-wonderful 3 yearold. Among other things, she told my friend that her child was an evil genius, and that she would shock people for ages about how bright she was, and that people would want to medicate her to made her "like other kids," and no matter what she could not let that happen. So then we were both freaked out, because "evil genius" pretty my describes this kid to a T.

I think in the end, all a good psychic does ("If they're not bogus," as my friend the Trainwreck says) is sense all the things you know for yourself but don't repeat. They see the Jimminy Cricket on your shoulder and tell you what you already know.

And that's a pretty powerful skill. Perhaps the only sixth sense that I would want around.