it's 2:45 am, on August 24, 2002 - minerva's psychic studio.
~
I forgot to tell everyone, I went to a psychic last night.
This is how the story goes: I used to be really into astrology, among other things. Really into it. Flaky seventies acid freaks writing about the Cosmic Karma and your position on the Wheel and Pisces and zodiac relationships and the whole bit. I was flaky and I wanted to believe in crystals and I wanted to, y'know. I wanted to have a Cosmic Connection, with the universe and with other people. Another person.
Blah blah. time moved on, I got some sense and realized that I wasn't, y'know, endowed with psychic abilities, I wasn't clairvoyant and I wasn't going to make things move. Along with these shed beliefs, I also tossed "astrology" into the box marked 'flaky'.
So tonight, I'm envisioning Justin reading his horoscope faithfully -- because we know he's very superstitious -- and that leading to sexy things with Lance. Because all things should eventually lead to sexy touching with Lance, but I digress. So, and I'm rereading all this astrology bullshit tonight, as refresher to maybe write Justin saying, "y'know, Lance, you're being so Taurus right now!" and Lance going off to blow Eminem. And I remember, hey, you got your palm read for the first time last night.
So this is what she said.
The one thing she said twice was that I liked children. --and, let's understand here, I was giving her all the clues she needed, I corrected her and I lead her along, so that she needn't reveal herself to be utterly fake. But anyway. She said that I like children, that I'm meant to be a mother. Which, all right, granted it's funny in the short term, but really. Me?
She said that I'd never been in a relationship before, and I kind of made a face, and she hastily said, "not a serious one, a long term one", and I said, well, uh, yeah. That offended me a little, at the time, since. I don't know. I may look young but I am twenty. So then she told me I met him at eighteen. Which I corrected, on both accounts. Then she gulped, backtracked a tad, and said some more bullshit that I don't remember because it was vague stupid shit.
Apparently, also: I'm a very spiritual person, who doesn't care that much for money -- I'd rather be happy. And you know, that's also not true. I care a lot about money. Very creative; I'm working on something, and working hard. To which I make a face.
The good, I guess, is her saying I have a long lifeline, and lots of travelling in my future. This includes, according to Minerva, backpacking to Europe next May, for a long time, with a girlfriend. I'm like, okay lady. This isn't worth fifteen bucks.
And that's not to say that I don't believe --
Okay, yes it is. I don't believe in this kind of bullshit anymore. I really can't afford to. I don't even really want to, anymore. It's that kind of, that kind of dorky, 'doing it no matter what people say' thing that JC would do. He'd believe, and explain it, no matter how stupid other people found it, and that's really not what I'm into anymore.
*
So the story goes, a psychic told me that I was supposed to be a mother, and Justin is an aquarius. An even better twist at the ending of this tale is: tonight I saw the first of fifth season OZ.
Sucked. Suck suck suck so bad that the word suck doesn't suck badly enough. And yet, I'm still enamoured with it. I still love Toby. He's still a constant. He's a constant in a world where, Twiller said to me today that he couldn't imagine me ever being lonely. he thought that I'd (he used the epithet "little canadian porn queen") have a harem stretching down the block.
But how can you explain to someone that it's impossible to keep in touch with people? that keeping people around isn't your style, you used to be a packrat and now you're trained out of it, you trained yourself out of it a long time ago and it's never coming back. I mean, he wouldn't get that I don't call people on purpose, I don't keep letters and yearbooks and phone numbers. I like to lose email because then you're forced into the here and now, instead of being able to look back and think "oh, that's what it used to be."
You don't think about loss if you don't have any evidence of it -- eyes forward, it's better that way.
On that note: Cathy said she may visit this January. Mel said I should come to Australia for Christmas. I'd almost trade it all for someone I could call right now and go get coffee with. Almost. Not really. But almost.
Wouldn't trade you for anyone. I miss you like sleep.
*
It's funny. I've managed to work it so that the little imood thing in the corner over there says "in love" for the last two months or more. Not really funny. Not really an accident.
~
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