My birthday is coming up. I’m not very fond of my birthday. It’s just another day, I don’t feel different afterward, I don’t really like having everyone asking me what I want to do, what I want for a gift. I don’t like waiting on family members to call, then listening to them come up with some lame excuse as to why they didn’t. It’s very annoying. I’d rather they didn’t call at all.
Another reason I’m not fond of my birthday is that there’s always the expectation that I should do something special or different. I never really know what to do. Usually I drag my family out for dinner at a restaurant, we come home, have cake and open gifts, then we go our separate ways. This year I would have watched Grey’s Anatomy. I know, I’m ridiculously exciting.
My sister guaranteed that the restaurant tradition would stay intact. When my mom asked me if I wanted to go out for supper, my sister answered. I have no idea where we’ll be going, but we will be going somewhere. As for the after part, my parents’ friends invited my parents to see a psychic. I know, it sounds kind of silly but they did it last year and had a lot of fun. When their friends mentioned the date for the psychic visit this year, there was an awkward pause. I felt pretty sure my parents wanted to go, but wouldn’t because of me. Given that I wasn’t planning on doing anything and that our usual crap is done by about eight, I invited myself along. It’ll certainly be better than staying home alone or watching Arizona and Mark bicker. So, on my twenty second birthday, I will be seeing a psychic. Psychic-Reading Party?
I’ve never been to a psychic before. And I do believe in supernatural stuff. I believe in ghosts (having had numerous experiences, mostly when I worked at the restaurant), I believe that people can see certain things that others can’t. I mean, just because it hasn’t been proven and I can’t do it, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist or can’t be done. I wonder what she’ll say when she does my reading. The last time my mom went, she was told that my grandmother was there with her. I don’t think my mom ever actually met her. Creepy? What if I get to ask questions? I don’t know what I’d want to ask her. Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? What will she say to me? Show of hands, who got that joke?
Either way, I’ve promised to share her findings with Veronica when I get home. And of course, I’ll share them with you. Five days to go. What would you ask a psychic?