A New Challenge for a New Year

I did not exactly succeed at the November blog challenge with Mary, but I also did not exactly fail. I did write. I wrote like 50% of the days I was supposed to. And I learned from my sorta success slash sorta failure, a few lessons for my next writing challenge.

I learned that I do enjoy writing in line with a blog challenge.
I learned that I like writing more, knowing that Mary is also writing and going to post something really funny.
I learned that I do not have time to write every single day.
I learned that I don't always feel like writing.
I learned that on the weekends, I'd rather cuddle than write a blog post.

With that, I have found a new writing challenge to take on: 50 Questions to Ask a Girl if You Really Want to Know Her.

50 Questions, 50 topics.
This time, though...no 50 day deadline to answer all 50. Because I know I don't like to write on the weekends and because I know I have days where I give no fucks, I'm setting my goal to answer these 50 questions over the next 100 days. That's much more manageable and realistic.

So, moving right along.

Day One: When you were younger, what did you think you were going to be when you grew up?

When I was really little, like five-year-old little, I thought I could be Clyde Drexler. I mean, sure, I was a tiny little white girl...what could possibly stop me from being a six-plus foot tall black man?? Dream big, as they say.

I wanted to be Clyde Drexler after meeting him at school. My kindergarden class won a reading contest that the Blazers were involved in, and because we won, he came to school. This was my first dose of stardom and part of me remembers it being a huge deal.

Get it, huge, because he is huge?

Anyway, my first moment of hero worship, and at five, that clearly became a dream to BE him.

After my mom shot me down on that dream, I decided I wanted to be an elementary school librarian. Why? Because I love books, especially children's books.

Looking back now, my overall disdain for small children was probably a hindrance here, but what did I know about all that way back then? Now, I cannot fathom the thought of being a teacher - my cousin is a teacher, and just standing next to her makes me tired. What a thankless and underpaid profession, where you are way too responsible for the well-being of a new generation of humans.

Too. Much. Pressure.

And so, like everyone else in property management, I got into property management on accident.

And the joke is on me, because it is literally the equivalent of being responsible for small children.
Except the children are adults.
Who instead of refusing to eat their lunch, are refusing to pay their rent.
And instead of being thankless and underpaid...oh wait, no, that's the same.

I Think a Zombie Just Read My Mind

I don't believe in psychics. I think it's absurd. Crazy. I think people who claim to be psychic are just trying to scam people out of cash, and they latch onto gullible people who think someone is telling them the future when in reality are simply asking the right questions and giving vague answers.

I think psychics are fake.

Until they approach me in Las Vegas and without asking me anything at all, begin explaining who I am as a person, down to the nitty gritty, and hit every nail on the head. Until they read my best friend like a book, pointing out qualities in her that I would use to describe her only after having known her for several years. Until they tell me the exact same things a paid therapist has been telling me for the past twelve months.

At which point, I wonder...am I just a skeptic? Is this shit real? Am I too drunk? What just happened?

HOW DID SHE KNOW THAT?!

And then I proceed to wander through Planet Hollywood all night, drinking moscato, trying to connect the dots of the mind fuckery that just took place outside of the V Theater where I'd spent two hours in a dark room full of zombies performing an epic burlesque show.

***Side note, if you are ever in Vegas, see the Zombie Burlesque show at Planet Hollywood. Yes this is a shameless plug, but it was possibly the best $50 I've ever spent. Pay for VIP seats and enjoy it. It will blow your mind.

Anyway, back to my actual point. After seeing a show and having dinner, I was simply meandering the casino with Kattie and her sister Danielle, popping in and out of shops, maintaining a mellow buzz, people watching...nothing major. I feel like it is imperative to mention that I was not wasted at this moment; my logic was not out the window here. We were walking towards the casino floor from the miracle mile shops when this woman approached us and asked if we'd ever seen a psychic (nope). She asks if we believe in them (nope). She asks if we're interested in a reading (nope).

Then she just starts talking to Kattie. And I mean telling Kattie who she is as a person, what she is struggling with, what she's succeeding at. She is literally reading Kattie to us as though she's known Kattie forever. She did not ask us one single question - not even our names - and she is spewing things about Kattie that I thought no one knew but me. How is this happening?!? I'm trying to pick my jaw up off the floor when she turns to Danielle and starts explaining her personality to her, offering her insight to the big life decisions she's trying to make - after telling her what her life problems are, mind you. Because remember, she didn't ask us one damn thing at all!

It was insane. My eyes were as big as saucers and Kattie's jaw hit the ground, while Danielle just stood there shaking her head - all of us in disbelief, and all of our skepticism fading.

After giving Kattie and Danielle the life 4-1-1, she turns to me and starts talking. About my family, about the way I feel about them. About the traumatic past relationship I was in that left me with a huge wall up around me. About the ways I can let that wall crumble and move on with someone who has been there through it. About who I am and what I'm doing, and about how to come through it to be a happier person on the other side.

At this point, I am honestly believing her. She's accurately assessed all three of us in a matter of minutes. She hasn't asked a single question. She hasn't asked for money or an appointment for anything further. She is just speaking, in the middle of a shopping mall, and literally breaking it down to each of us. I'm shocked, but I am buying it. This lady is a legit, honest-to-goodness, can-see-into-your-soul, psychic medium.

And then she drops the bomb on me.

"You've been blessed with a large family, and you will continue to add to your family."

This bitch right here.

She goes on to tell me that I'm going to have twins. Twins. Yes, me. Twins. Like when you have two babies inside you at the same time, and then have to shove them both out of your lady business in the same day. Twins, like, not ever sleeping or being alone in a room again. And she follows up that little gem with the fact that not only will I have twins, but that then I will also have a third child, just to round out the reality of my worst nightmare: being outnumbered by babies.

I refuted at this point. I told her I don't want kids, that I never want to have them, that I've never wanted to have them. She doesn't care, she reaffirms that she is sure of it. Only half-joking, I explain that I'd like to get my tubes tied this year. I am met with, "that won't help - if God (I'm not sure I believe in God, ma'am) or the Universe, then, desire to you to be a mother, it is out of your hands."

Well shit!

Here's the thing. Had she just come at me with that, or had she asked me anything about my life, my body, my choices, my birth control...oh I dunno, my NAME even...I would have written this off as some drunk broad in Vegas trying to scam me for a buck. But I am telling you, every single other thing she said was 100% on point for all three of us. And then, though we'd parted ways going the opposite direction as her, we then ran into her again about an hour later in the casino. And again she didn't want any money. She did not appear to want anything from us, did not seem to have any ulterior motive. It was like when that Teresa lady from the Long Island Medium show approaches strangers because their deceased parents are talking to her at Target or Starbucks.

As insane as it may seem, I feel desperately like I need to discuss this encounter with my therapist. Unfortunately she is on maternity leave, so my next appointment isn't until July 6th.

Hopefully I'm not knocked up with my twin babies by then, decorating a nursery with a baby-daddy I finally admitted I was in love with. I make this joke, of course, despite my growing fear of it being my impending reality.

What in the actual fuck?!?

This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, what happens in Vegas...