Mom had a “Psychic Party” last night. We were invited.
Now I’m not entirely sold on the supernatural “industry”. But I’m not going to be so arrogant to assume that there isn’t more planes to reality / perception than we’re able to take in with our normal senses.
We arrived fashionably late to my mom’s apartment.
The living room was packed with middle aged women and the air was spiked with mom’s potstickers – which of course we made a b-line for.
Speaking of psychic phenomena – there’s this bizarre “earth-mother-estro-secret-club-vibe” when you get a lot of mature women together.
I assume it has something to do with maturity.. Women, once they squeeze out and raise their kids loose the nasty competitive factor I see in so many women around our age. What’s left is this alien ovarian-bonding which makes men, (even gay ones), feel sorta like they’ve broken into a masonic meeting.
Guests would take turns going to the back bedroom where the psychic was set up with a card table.
She pointed out personality quirks which were accurate and rambled off impressions and factoids.
Some of the things I learned (or already knew):
I’m really good at promoting other people but have trouble doing it for myself.
There’s a male buffalo in me.
Kevin REALLLY likes sex. Chad REALLLY likes sleep.
They both love me more than I know.
When I’m not thinking about sex, my preoccupation (and what I base the meaning/value of my life on) is my work.
I need to stop doubting my abilities and make some career decisions this year. Cut out and let go of the things that aren’t working. Apparently the next two years are going to be more successful than I can imagine today.
I’m happy…. Not as successful as in the past… but happier than I’ve ever been…
(*another card draw*)
“God, you’re really happy. And you’re having fun…”
Apparently this impression had such an impact on her that she followed me out after my reading and wanted to meet Kevin and Chad.
“Hello… I wanted to meet the two responsible for all this happiness.”
They blushed.. She smiled… I stuffed another six potstickers in my mouth.
I didn’t need to cough up forty bucks for someone to tell me I’m happy… I already know.
It’s nice to hear from a third-party. (fourth party counting the Astral plane?)
I should have asked the psychic if I’d blog about this the next day.