Saturday, August 22, 2009

Pole-Dancing with the Dead

So I already know that my sweet, mild-mannered son, Twelve, is smart, yet unfocused, and a class clown, yet in a reserved kind of way. Luckily, he's also CEO material. Whew....

Psychic: "You know your dad is here telling me these things. He's here with about 30 other people."

I looked around this woman's very normal, very child-friendly living space, picturing all these transparent-like Casper-ish figures standing around as if at a party. I made a peace sign with both hands and said, "heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyy!" I mean, really, what does one say to a room full of dead strangers?

This was the same psychic that Sixty-Seven spoke to a week earlier. She was kind enough to alleviate my worries about the son I am constantly telling to open a book and study; the kid I always think of as me, Thirty-Nine, in boy form. She said he needs to find focus. I sat there thinking that I had told him the same damn thing as the school year ended: that he better start focusing when he hits seventh grade in September, and just because he does well without even trying, he better start actually trying. All in all, she described my beautiful Twelve perfectly.

But then, she hits me with:

Psychic: "You're daughter is a force to be reckoned with."

Here it comes....

Psychic: "When this one enters a room, you know she's in the room."

No shit... really?

Psychic: "You know, your father's here holding up his pinkie. He's telling you she's got him wrapped around hers. He's enamored with her."

This, I already knew from Sixty-Seven's reading.

Psychic: "But this character and a half, she outshines her brother. Not that he doesn't have a personality, because he certainly does, but your girl outshines him."

Poor Twelve. In the shadow of this tiny force. And she said it would always be like that. Always.


Psychic: "This is the wild child."

Thirty-nine: "I knoooow!"

Psychic: "She'll take care of him."

Thirty-Nine: "I knoooow!"

Psychic: "You know, you won't see your son from ages 14-18 or 19. He'll be in and out all the time."

I nodded. It didn't surprise me since he's already been pulling away from me as it is. At twelve.

Psychic: "You know, you weren't a bad kid yourself. But you have a wild side nobody knows about."

Well, until that moment, anyway. And it was a secret between only me, her, my dad and the 30 or so other dead people chillaxin' with us. And now, you guys. All six of ya.

Psychic: "Your girl... now that's your pole-dancer."

Thirty-Nine: "I knooooooooooooooow!!"

It was the longest one-syllable word ever uttered.

Psychic: "She's the one you'll be giving the Breathalyzer tests to at 2:30 in the morning."

I laughed out of fear, but also acknowledgment. I knew this shit deep down anyway. After all, she is my mini-me in looks, so she might as well be it in personality, as well. God help everyone.

I know that this woman wasn't told one thing about me. She was actually going to cancel my appointment because she didn't feel well, but she told the person who made the appointment on my behalf, "that woman Sixty-Seven's husband is hangin' around still. Why? Am I seeing her daughter tonight?" When her agent confirmed this, Psychic said, "No, I can't cancel. I have to speak to her."

And speak to me she did. She told me what she told my mother the week before, (about dear old Dead Dad), but she also touched on three specific things in my life with dead-on (pun anyone?) accuracy. I'm going to keep her visions regarding that personal part of my world to myself, but while my life story unravels, I'm going to pull out the six pieces of paper I scribbled on while she spoke to re-read them every once in a while to see if any of it applies. Who knows? Maybe it will, maybe it won't. I can't help believing in her though since this is the only psychic I've been to where I came away feeling....reassured and comforted.

I'm sure there are at least 4 out of the 6 of you reading that think it's all bullshit. Forty-Four certainly does. But if I ever find Seven wrapped around a pole one day in the future, beer on her breath, I'll be blogging about it and you'll be begging for this psychic's phone number.


  1. wow !! and seven has changed since four when she seemed so quiet and shy. That is so funny she actually said pole dancer to you! keep on writin... Heather

  2. 38 plus, it's not for us to believe, 'cause it's not our story *to* believe. Sometimes stuff just happens that you yourself understand clear as day, even if it sounds crazy to someone else. Keep on being true to yourself. (BTW, I've now learned NOT to read your posts in public -- the one before this had me crying in a cafe earlier this week!)

  3. Heather... thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment. And yes, "pole dancer" was the term used :)
    Hazelthyme: Thank you, too, for finding interest. It *is* my belief that people can find comfort in this type of thing; that's why I wrote about it. And I'm glad it touched you the way it did.