Single White Nerd: A Very Psychic Valentine
It’s the day after Valentine’s Day, friends. And as I sit here on my balcony, the clacking of my keys accompanied by the whizzing of traffic and yelping of playful dogs, I am filled with hope for the first time in years. I won’t lie, it’s been a heckuva journey to get here.
For the past few years, I’ve used Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to rail against Cupid. In what I see now was a delusional state, I mistakenly blamed this fictional creature for my inability to maintain anything resembling a functional relationship. A girl didn’t call back? Must’ve been Cupid. Someone took out a restraining order against me? Cupid must’ve signed and delivered it. I took comfort in Cupid’s malignant presence. As long as he stood in my way, of course there was no way I could find someone.
Then last year I realized that what I called “Cupid” was the embodiment of my own ambiguity towards relationships. What a revelation! I vowed to take ownership of my destiny. No more would I do battle with arrow-toting cherubs. I would communicate openly with myself, call myself on my own shit, strive for honesty in all interactions with the fairer sex. I would put myself Out There and accept the consequences as a gift.
And so I did. I dated. I contributed faithfully to this blog. I went on the Dr. Phil show. I visited a Cougar Convention. I did all this to hop back into the driver’s seat of my romantic life. For months, it didn’t work. Exhausted and spiritually battered, I found myself on the verge of resignation to a life of single nerdom.
Until two weeks ago. That’s when I had, well. . .a pretty great first date. We talked and ate and argued amiably. She smiled a lot. I smiled a lot. Even the waiter smiled a lot. So much smiling! At the end of the night, we hugged. And there was a tentative first kiss. Good stuff.
I drove home with fantasies of couplehood dancing in my head. I rehearsed the resignation speech I would deliver to Ernessa, the fiercest of all nerds. “Ernessa,” I’d say, “Look. I’m not single anymore. So I’m turning in my badge and license to blog. If you want insights from the land of the blissfully coupled, I’m totally down for that, but as of right now the Single White Nerd is no more!” And then I would do a little victory dance.
A few days later, the girl sent me an email. “Not ready to date,” it declared, “blah, blah, blah, you’re great, blah blah, take care.” Now, I couldn’t blame her. “Not ready to date” is completely valid. And I believed her. But COME ON—Karmically, something was clearly going on.
What more could I have done to prepare myself to date someone? I went on Dr. Phil, for godsakes! I refused to blame Cupid; those days were done. But there had to be some explanation. Maybe something I’d done in a past life? Some astrological imperative passed down from the heavens to keep me single? I had to get to the bottom of it. And, because I’m not super good at astrology or karmic analysis, I needed help. I needed a Psychic.
The urge to investigate overtook me at about 2 AM last night. At 2 AM, there aren’t a ton of options available for the psychic seeker. I considered driving into Hollywood and stopping at the first open Palm Reader I saw, but I’m not sure I’d trust a palm reader who stayed open that late. Besides, their psychic receptors might be fried from a long day of truth telling. Or maybe they would be a Palm Reader who offers happy endings. Not what I was looking for. What could I do? I entrusted my fate to the same force that guides so many of my decisions: Google.
“Google,” I queried, “Tell me where I can find a psychic!”
Google responded quickly: CA Psychic! And they were having a special—just $1 per minute of psychic revelation.
How could I say no? I quickly dialed the number and was connected to Amber.
According to her bio, Amber had over 20 years of psychic experience. As a natural empath, she had no need for cards or crystals. She could read my aura over the phone. She had worked with many Hollywood celebrities (who wished to remain anonymous) and corporate CEOs (who also wished to remain anonymous). With references like that, I knew I was in good hands. Also she was wearing dangly earrings in her picture and I’ve always associated dangly earrings with psychic ability.
Here is a more or less accurate transcript of my conversation with Amber. I couldn’t record it, so had to rely on my notes to get some of the details. After reading it, I’m pretty sure you’ll see why I’m so hopeful:
Amber: Who am I talking to?
Her voice had a jovial, maternal quality.
Me: This is Mike.
Of course, I’m sure she already knew that.
Amber: And when is your birthday
Me: August 25.
A pause. She had already gleaned valuable information. My feet tapped with excitement.
Amber: And what are we talking about today, Mike?
Amber: Well, of course, it IS Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?
Me: Sure is, Amber, and my mind is on love.
Amber: What is her name?
Me: Her name?
Amber: The girl.
Me: Oh, see, that’s the thing. There is no girl. Hasn’t been for over two years. And I was hoping to get some light shed on that situation.
Amber: I see. I–
she paused. A full, ripe pause.
Amber: Mike, I have good news! You have had something over you for the past two years, but it is lifted now.
Me: It is? What was it?
Amber: It was very heavy. But it’s gone.
Me: What kind of heavy? Like a past life thing? I knew it!
Amber: Maybe, but what you really need to focus on is that it’s gone and. . . Mike, is there a woman in your life, maybe an ex-girlfriend?
Me: Yes, Amber, there is!
Amber: Does she have dark hair?
Amber: And it is straight?
Me: Only when she wears a wig.
Amber: Yes! That is what I’m seeing. A wig. That’s her. And she has dark eyes?
Me: Amber, you are uncanny!
Amber: You must not associate with her or her friends. Mike, that’s just holding you back. You have to let those feelings go.
Me: I thought I had. We’re good friends.
Amber: Are you?
Amber: Is there anyone else with dark hair?
Me: Lots of people.
Amber: You have to let go of one of them. I see it very clearly.
Me: Which one?
Amber: The one who can do you the most harm.
Me: That would be my mother.
Amber: More good news, Mike—I see. . .yes. . .this Spring. This will be a good time for you. A new woman will come into your life. You will meet her. . .do you travel?
Me: Not often.
Amber: But you do.
Amber: Yes. You’ll meet her maybe even on an airplane. She will have lighter hair and eyes. Very pretty. And she will be very sensitive. You should remember that and not be overly nitpicky. I don’t mean to criticize, but I know that you’re a perfectionist.
Me: I do make people cry sometimes.
Amber: Yes. Don’t do that.
Me: Got it. And this will happen in the Spring?
Amber: That’s what I see. But you have do be open to it. Don’t run away.
Me: Got it.
Amber: And the Universe—you know, to our spirit guides, time doesn’t have any meaning. They experience things differently.
Me: Wait, so it might not be Spring when I meet this woman?
Amber: Well, I see Spring. But Saturn has been sitting on you for the past two years. That has held you back. And now Mars is spinning in reverse.
Me: What does that mean?
Amber: It’s spinning the opposite way. So you have to remain open to what the universe has in store. Don’t let the moment pass you by. And then you’ll be calling me in the Spring to tell me all about your new lady-friend.
Me: Amber, I’m looking forward to making that call.
Amber: I’m excited for you! Just remember to be ready to receive!
Me: I am a receptor!
Amber: Take care.
With that the call ended.
I sat there suffused with hope and knowledge. Saturn had been sitting on me. Of course! That’s why I’d been so unlucky over the past year. But now, with Mars spinning in reverse and the heavy thing lifted from my spirit, I could move forward. In the Spring. Or possibly some other time. As long as I remain open and receptive! And cut off ties with brunettes!
On this Valentine’s Day, Amber’s insights gave me a newfound sense of anticipation. I hope that your day was filled with promise, psychically bolstered or not. May Mars spin ever forward for you and Saturn stay unseated over your soul.
Oh–if you have brown hair, please dye it so we can still be friends.