Psychics

My sister has scheduled a psychic party (I don't know what else to call it) at her house in September.  A psychic, whom some of the women have already met, comes to the house and gives everybody a half hour reading for a set fee. I have wavered about attending.  At sixty, how much life do I have left for her to predict? And what if all there is to see in my future is more boring stuff?  Do I really want to pay money to confirm more of the same?

I used to have a fascination with psychics.  Some experiences confounded me, others just left me laughing.  Mostly, I consulted psychics when I was in the midst of a major life change or I thought I was in love.   Since I couldn't read the uncommunicative guy's mind, I figured I'd let the psychic do it.  In my many visits to psychics, some experiences still stand out.

The summer I finished my fifth year of college was a job hunting nightmare.  So, I asked my cousin Joan to help me get my astrological chart done by a woman she swore by.  The woman was adamant about my future job prospects.  She told me I would get the job I interviewed for on Thursday.  I told her I didn't have an interview for Thursday, but I had one for Monday.  She told me I'd also be offered that job, but I would take the Thursday job.  After my Monday interview, I was contacted by HCPS, and they set up my interview...for Thursday.  The rest, as you know, is history.  Before you get all goose pimply about this woman's talent, she also told me I would marry a dark foreigner and have one child.  That never happened.  Granted, there were some very nice dark foreigners in my life, but I had seen the movie and read the book, Not Without My Daughter, so I wasn't investing any time in those men.

I sought advice about the men in my life.  One in particular really had my heart.  The psychic told me that he deeply cared for me, but for reasons I would later understand, he would never, ever be mine. She was right.  Like a number of men I cared for, he too, eventually came out of the closet. Another psychic described a guy I was drawn to and warned me away from him.  He was not just a bad boy, he was dangerous.  Before it got really bad, I took her advice and safely squirmed out of that relationship.

Over the years, I have maintained a fascination with psychics.  I have read how they trick people into providing the information a psychic needs to give a reading.  I recently saw an expose on one of the news shows where the psychic gave everybody the same general reading that each attendee found to be personally mind-blowing.  I even went to a Sylvia Browne show; she is, by the way, a huge fraud.  But, I like and still put some credence in John Edwards.  I've read how psychics have been hired by police departments to solve murders, I taught a book about the sight to my middle schoolers (The Third Eye), and Medium was a not-to-miss television show for me.  So, there is still a part of me that wants to believe.

I'll go to the psychic party.  I hope she doesn't waste my thirty minutes by describing my personality or past adventures.  I already know that stuff.  I want to know what I've always wanted to know - Dear Miss Psychic:  Tell me the truth, is there a man in my future?  And is he straight?