Krista Vance/Voices | Bridging the gap between past, future

Krista Vance/Voices | Bridging the gap between past, future

By KRISTA VANCE

You can't leave New Orleans without a reading from a fortune teller.

So, I visited a local palm reading establishment. I was fortunate because the famous and amazing Nostradamus (pronounced dame) was available to tell me my future.

I would be healthy. I would never worry about money. I would live a long life. My marriage is good, and Thomas would be stuck with me for eternity. In two years, my book would be published. Maybe I should write it, especially since the reading was in 2013 (I may have missed the deadline.)

Whether it's real or not, don't we all want to hear that our life will be fabulous?

I think I'd rock being a crystal gazer. I am from the South, after all.

I'd give everyone positive futures, none of that "you're cursed and will be miserable until you die alone at 99 (almost got a birthday card from POTUS) and then your cats eat you" business.

I could get a business card with a third eye in the middle of my forehead.

I used the Google and found a couple tests that predict if you'd make a good psychic:

Test 1: By looking at someone, can you foresee an event before it happens (aka premonition)?

Duh.

Last night, Thomas and I went to a pizza joint. A guy walked through the door wearing a T-shirt that read "Save Water — Drink Beer," and I said to Thomas, "See that guy? He's going to order a beer." Sure enough, he ordered a beer.

Soon after, a woman walked into the pizza parlor, and I whispered to Thomas, "She's not going to order a beer." Sure enough, she ordered water.

Thomas argued that it wasn't psychic ability that allowed me to come to those conclusions: "Anyone could envision a future where a guy who advertises beer would order a beer and a woman who was obviously pregnant wouldn't."

He's such a skeptic.

Test 2: See how well you can guess the color or suit of a playing card that your friend is holding.

OK, there's not a full deck of cards in our house (we're all nuts), but I do have experience with this.

Basically, it's being able to receive mental images or thoughts.

Thomas sends them to me all the time. He'll just look at me, and in my head, I can hear him plain as day, "You're killing me. You really need to stop doing that in public. Please stop talking to that person. I want to go home. You're nuts."

He sends that last one a lot.

Near the end of my reading, Nostradamus keyed in on one of my biggest fears ... water. "You're afraid of something," she said. "Something the majority of people aren't afraid of." She closed her eyes. "I see," Nostradamus swayed, "something to do with summertime."

"Yes! Swimming!" I shouted in awe at her perception.

Nostradamus smiled, "That's exactly what I saw."

"I hate water," I said. "I have a theory about it. If you go underwater, you can't breathe, so why would you do that? Pretty deep, huh?"

"Your logic is astounding," she praised. "You're a sage."

"Actually, I prefer thyme," I chuckled.

Nostradamus raised an eyebrow and shook her head (Thomas probably taught her that move.) "The reason you're afraid of water," she continued, "is because in a past life, your lover threw you off a bridge," she paused for dramatic effect, "and you drowned.""I knew it! I knew I'd drowned in a past life! Who did it? Is that person alive now, because I'm going to have a few choice words with them?"

"Yes," Nostradamus answered. "He's a part of your life. Actually, he's spending this life atoning for killing you."

"Who is it?" I asked, softly.

Nostradamus hesitated and rubbed her temples. "Your husband," she revealed, theatrically waving her hands in the air.

"Thomas?" I asked, disbelieving.

"Yes."

"Is that why he's always trying to convince me to take swimming lessons?"

"Most likely."

"I'm going to annoy him until the day he dies, and for all eternity. Nobody throws me off a bridge and gets away with it."

"In the short time I've known you, I believe you've already started," Nostradamus mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

Nostradamus waved away my question and used her powers of distraction. "Proceed with caution," she warned. "I think he sometimes contemplates throwing you off another bridge."

"You think?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"How dare he?" I said, furiously. "Are you positive?"

"Of course. I'm a psychic."

Krista Vance is a stay-at-home mom in Champaign.

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