What I'm watching: Dateline, Real Life Mysteries (here's a thought, if a guy's last two wives have died under very suspicious circumstances, he might not make the best dating material...I'm just sayin').
Scott and I went to the Illinois State Fair this weekend. With all the things to see and do at the fair, my husband still insists on benchmarking the entire event by the foods that he's managed to consume (which has led me to dub it "Pig Tour 2009"). If it was deep fried, on a stick or somehow jammed into a bun with onions and peppers, he needed to eat it. Everything from a polish sausage to fried alligator (yes ALLIGATOR! Which surprisingly wasn't as disgusting one might expect) was consumed through the course of the day. FYI? A chocolate covered, deep fried twinkie? Not nearly as good as one might expect.
In addition to all the food, we saw our share of animals (is it sad that I want a pony?), arts and crafts displays (although really? some of what passes for art really just looks like a big pile of junk to me), and very interesting people (very interesting people).
We also did something that neither one of us has ever done before. We got a psychic reading. Now, I do believe that some people have some special 'abilities' for lack of a better term, but I also believe that most psychics who are out there making a living at it are probably just really good at reading people and making guesses.
But, I decided to go for it since it seemed like a fun and harmless way to pass some time. Besides? I figured that she would be completely wrong and Scott and I could spend the afternoon laughing about her erroneous assumptions and predictions.
Please note: I'm not laughing. I sat down, gave her my name and my birthdate....that was it. I tried to keep my face as unemotional as I could no matter what she said. To the point where she finally said that I was going to have to let her know if she was on the right track. She was. Uncomfortably on the right track as a matter of fact. She knew things that no one should have/could have known by just looking at me. Very specific things that couldn't just generally be guessed or generalizations that could be applied to anyone.
Not everything was spot on but I'd say fully 90% of what she said was so specifically accurate that it was all rather a bit unnerving honestly. The good news? She encouraged me to continue with my writing, (she said this a couple of times even though I never confirmed for her that I wrote). She said that I wasn't confident in my creative abilities (that's a given...what writer doesn't sometimes feel like a talentless hack?), but that I should continue to work on it...that I *needed* to write.
Lots to think about....
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love comments. They're like cake without the carbs.