May 14, 2011

I got a gig writing for a food blog based in New York City. It’s an upstart site, much like my dearly departed Dicey Weather. I had been e-mailing back and forth with the girl who is creating it, and she wanted to meet up to discuss the site and her expectations in person. We decided to meet at the 9th Avenue Food Festival.

I had a doctor’s appointment in Harlem that morning. (Which by the way, I don’t have cancer. Yay! Always good news to receive.) I didn’t want to schlep all the way back to Queens so I headed straight to the festival. I called the girl I was supposed to meet, but she was running late. Fine by me. I wandered around, ate an empanada, and tried to kill time.

I saw a Psychic booth that offered a reading. Now, I arrived at the food festival with only $30 cash. As I walked around looking at the stalls, I told myself, “Don’t waste your money Chrissy. Save it for the delicious food. Don’t buy jewelry or a hat you’ll never wear. Spend you money wisely.” But before I knew it, I had plopped down my money to have my fortune told. I can’t even remember the justification in my head at that moment.

Basically, she was the worst psychic in the history of the world.

“I see that you have a very high position in your company and make a lot of money.”
“No.”

“I see that you are involved with many men at the moment.”
“No. Not at all. I actually just broke up with someone.”
“Because you were sleeping with many other men?”
“No.”
“But he suspected that you were with many other men?”
“No.”
“Oh, oh, I see. You had an abortion.”
“No!”
“It’s okay. You can be honest with me. You have had an abortion.”
“I swear to you, I have not.”
“You had a tragic miscarriage.” At this point, I just started laughing. It was all so ridiculous.
“No. No pregnancy. No sleeping around. You are way way off.”
“You wanted kids desperately, and he just didn’t understand. You have every right to be mad. I can see that you were meant to be married with children by the age of 20. He ruined that, didn’t he?” I thought for a moment to myself at 20. Jumping off a bridge in the Czech Republic, kissing Polish boys outside of dance clubs, drinking Absinthe with Irish poets, running around Paris in my blue Pashmina, driving to Canada with a group of friend and dancing until four in the morning. If I was meant to be married at that point, I dodged a bullet!!

Me at 20 in Canada. Maybe I am wrong, but I think I was having the time of my life.

She went on to tell me that I would have three kids eventually. A look of horror shot across by face as she also told me that two of them would be twins.

I paid her. (Yes, I know wish I had the gumption to tell her that she didn’t deserve my money, but I’m just too nice.) The rest of the day was fun. I met up with the food blog creator who was such an inspiration. I put a lot of effort into Dicey Weather, but this girl was going all out, and I really admired her for it and am excited to contribute. We ate deep fried oreos, corn on the cob, German Bratwurst and saw that pig get roasted.