Medium. At Large.


This is absolutely hysterical. More middle-aged white women (much like myself at my most desperate moments!) looking for answers and grasping at straws. Ps...I love you Kate McKinnon!! And I'm pretty sure I would have gotten more out of paying you $85 to make me laugh for an hour!

Today I went to see a medium/psychic. I should have been wise enough to spend the $85 on a massage, where you are pretty much guaranteed a great experience, but it's the holiday season and my emotions and sentimentality are in overdrive. I was longing for a "message" from my late son or husband...and I thought, WTF....I haven't been to a psychic/medium in many years. Why not blow the budget I just drew up yesterday and do this little thing for myself, which may make me feel spectacular and connected to my beloveds.

I will say that I prepped for the event with a completely OPEN mind. I was uber-positive about what the experience would yield. I also put on the perfume that was my son's clear favortie. He adored it when I wore that perfume. I only own two perfumes, and I specifically put that one on because in my heart I was hoping this stranger of a woman, whom I was going to be seeing for all of this insider information, would get teary-eyed whilst telling me that she had a man beside her, and he wanted me to know he was so happy I was wearing his favorite perfume. My heart was already preemptively melting.

I thought, "This is just what I need to make my Christmas more wondrous. And for me to not end up in a state of total depression at some point between the Yule Log and New Year's Eve."

What happened was that I met a very nice woman. Someone I'd actually probably like to be friends with. But she knew nothing about me. There was no wisp of a superpower of psychic anything during our entire hour together. My questions at the end of these types of encounters generally go something like, "If you are so psychically attuned, how in the f*cking universe could you have absolutely no idea that I have a dead husband and a dead child?"

To be honest, all of this pisses me off. Because I feel absolutely fleeced. It's not that I don't believe some humans have a more clear connection with the spiritual world, but please. At least get ONE thing correct.

This person, bless her heart, rattled on for a good ten minutes about a dead relative who was probably very well fermented before I was even born, and with whom I have zero personal connection. And to listen to that, I paid approximately $17 of my dollars. Even if Great Uncle Emile was standing beside her, sending messages to me about how I should write (ummm..hello...I am a writer already!) I didn't want to waste my money listening to his musings from the afterlife. What a waste! When I first sat down and she immediately said she had a man who had "come in" and wanted to say something, I got all teary and in no time had pulled a tissue from the conveniently located tissue box.

Because I was certain it was my son.

But no, it was apparently just a long dead socially awkward relative (with gout!) whom I'd never met, who was taking up nearly one fifth of my allotted appointment time.

I really didn't give a sh*t about what Uncle Emile or whoever he was had to say. He was absolutely wasting my precious time.

Her: "They are saying you should paint. Do you paint?"

Me: "I went to art college. Yes. I paint."

Her: "They are saying you should write. Do you keep a journal?They are saying you should keep a journal."

Me: "Yes. I write all of the time. I'm a writer. I wrote an entire f*cking book. I'm sorry, do I sound angry? And I have approximately nine gazillion journals going at any one time."

The only thing she said that was really completely helpful and on point was when she told me she had moved from Maine to Massachusetts. Because there aren't enough business opportunities in Vacationland, and also because it's hard to find your tribe of creatives, or a romantic partner.

And then I asked her, "Are you giving refunds today? They say you should give me a refund today."

Just to be clear, she was an extremely nice person (and I'm sure not deliberately trying to have people walk away unfulfilled and unimpressed) and she teared up more than I did during our informational exchange. Apparently, my life is more of a tearjerker than her intuitive gifts. And I did go to see a psychic medium once after my husband died who actually hit the nail on the head SO many times in one hour that it both creeped me out and astounded me. I really did feel I'd gotten my money's worth that time. But that's one time out of...let's see, about five at this juncture in my life.

And so, at this point, I am feeling the way I feel about the whole Reiki thing...you don't need to be someone special or pay money to learn secret symbols to tap into your inner existential universal energy and ability to heal through touch...and you don't need to pay anyone to connect or get messages from your deceased loved ones. We ALL have all of those powers within ourselves.

My son communicates with me all of the time, if I pay attention. And what he's saying right now is,

"Jeezus, Mom! Why didn't you go get a massage?!!!"

And now I'm going to go and make myself some mac and cheese, because I have no money left to

take myself out for a romantic dinner. Maybe my dead Uncle Emile will show up later and drop me a fifty so I can get a nightcap. If his gout isn't acting up.

And despite all of this ridiculousness, I am still laughing! Because THAT is my Universal superpower. ;)

Love to all ~

Sandi

xxoo

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