“The lotto numbers – don’t forget to ask them for the lotto numbers!” That line from one very sceptical neighbour when we announced we were off to see a psychic at the Psychic Expo yesterday at The Southport RSL.

I was, am not now, a virgin when it came to this kind of stuff. Apart from messing around with tarot cards with my girlfriends when we were young, I knew nothing.

But yesterday definitely popped my cherry. And it didn’t hurt a bit.

I was so nervous going in there. I mean what was I worried about? Well, actually I was scared she would be able to look inside me and see every thought, nice, negative, odd, lovely and absurd that I was having at that very moment. What if she could tell I had made an observation whilst waiting my turn that I thought she should have gotten her roots done before this big expo? Did she know I’d drunk a bottle of wine the night before and was feeling like particular shit? And what if she just ended up being all kinds of wrong and I was wasting my $25. Mind you that’s $25 for 15 minutes. $100 an hour for using her extra-sensory perceptive powers. Wow, wish I were psychic.

I was offered a recording of my reading for $5 but realised, that um, I don’t own a tape player any more. These guys need to get with the times.

So sitting there, waiting for Donna my guru, to finish up with a middle-aged woman who looked particularly ticked off, I couldn’t help but listen to psychic number 5, Esmeralda.

A lady who was at least 85 in the shade, sat supported by her walker with Esmeralda. I didn’t hear her question but I heard the answer. “No darling, you aren’t going anywhere, anytime soon.” Immediately I felt a lot of affection for Esmeralda. I mean, she could have seen that this old duck was not going to last past next Tuesday, but she wasn’t about to tell her that. I suddenly got what all this was about. About reaffirming stuff, making you feel better and if they happen to hit upon some real issues, then all well and good, otherwise, if it just gives you a reason to keep going, well what’s the harm? Esmeralda went on to ask a series of questions and make predictions to which the old lady refuted. Didn’t matter, the old lady was satisfied and even gave Esmeralda a kiss on her way out.

Enough of others, it was my turn.

I sat down and Donna looked into my eyes and kept staring for what felt like an eternity and then said “Um, I need your ticket before I can start love” Oh shit, right, so after rummaging around my sinkhole of a handbag, I finally found it and we got to start properly.

Immediately she told me I had a very creative aura. “You need to use your talent – you are a communicator, or an artist, no definitely a writer. You don’t do that for a living, but I see you writing columns. You need to write a novel”. OK, fucking hell, pretty good.

“You need to keep with the writing and stop blocking yourself” A lot along these lines and then I got to pick 11 tarot cards. I watched the lady before me do this and she seemed to almost hover over them trying to get a feel for them. I felt nothing so was just picking them randomly. She started laying them down and then she started asking me about my husband.

“Has he been somewhat restless of late? a bit scattered?” Ooooh not that I know of. Then this

“I sense an addiction with your husband, is he addicted to something?” Um, unless he has an underground crack addiction I haven’t picked up on, then no.

Then it hit me. Yes he surely does have an addiction. Its name is BUNNINGS. Spot on the money. I didn’t tell Donna this; I didn’t get a chance because she told me “You will go through great disappointment with your husband for a couple of months. This could be to do with a property, you may want to do something he doesn’t, but it will all work out, just don’t push things”. Plus,

“A lot about the choices you make this year will take care of things financially”. Way to put the pressure on me Donna.

She also touched on 2009 and how it was a year of a lot of waiting and no being settled. True dat.

Then it was over. 15 minutes were up and she was ready for her next sucker - ahem - client.

My friend also said she got quite the amazing reading. Hers was spot on with her job and kids. Hers even gave her a hug at the end. Donna clearly picked up my reluctance to touch strangers.
I guess I thought, with my mum so recently passing away, that Donna would tell me Mum was telling her to tell me stuff from beyond the grave. You know like that she’s not impressed that I’ve given up on ironing all together or that I should stop yelling at her grandkids so much. But nada.

So am I a believer? After yesterday, call me a sucker, but yeah, I kinda think I am.