“Your psychic abilities are on the rise.” This, from a woman who did Tarot Card readings for pets. I had brought my camera so I could record my dog’s card reading for hours of hilarity later. Unfortunately, Colt was not giving off the vibes that day, and the reading turned to me.
Also, unfortunately, her reading seemed to be eerily accurate for what I was going through at the time, so how did that bode for my future? More importantly, how was I going to mock her later?
I was no stranger to the paranormal. Dousing rods, crystals, astral projection, the lost continent of Mu, and the Loch Ness Monster: you name it and my Dad was into it. Unfortunately, I defied his theory that everyone has some extra-sensory abilities. I sucked at bending spoons like The Great Kreskin, I’m not sure I have a past life to regress to, and I was batting zero on the ESP card test.
My only talent was to stop watches. Now, this is not a life skill that comes in handy when you’re trying to come up with the right numbers for the pick six. At the woman’s urging, I started journaling my dreams. What I discovered is that my dreams are about as interesting as a lecture on the Internal Revenue Code…without colorful charts, donuts, or hand puppets.
I went to a workshop based on the book, The Celestine Prophecy. We all had to bring our own wire coat hangers (a low budget workshop) which we fashioned into dousing rods. As we approached each other with our wienie skewers, the rods magically separated. They were pushed aside by each person’s aura. Each time someone tried it on me, the rods crossed. Our instructor was at a loss, since this phenomenon was never discussed in the book. I was slightly more concerned about showing up in the emergency room with a coat hanger stuck in my spleen.
The odd thing is that my ability to stop watches went away when I hit puberty. Once I hit the change of life, every watch I put on once more died an untimely (get it?) death. I haven’t been tempted to experiment with my non-watch related psychic abilities.
I’m left with a vague sense of unfinished business and an aversion to wire coat hangers. Maybe next time I’ll just have my tea leaves read, as long as I don’t have to bring my own tea.