Yelping psychics in Key West

This blog was written April 8, but I am just posting it now. Some of the things written below make a little bit more sense now...

I was in Florida last week for, among other things, a chance to see my friend George who I used to live with on the Rosebud reservation. I looked around online to find us a psychic to speak with since both of our lives have been pretty crazy recently.

So this will be a short blog about what my tarot cards said. I'll write about Hemingway and the drag queens later. After Yelping the psychics, everyone recommended some oddball guy who spends his time on the boardwalk. His glasses and unkempt curly hair made him look like Burgess Meredith from his Twilight Zone days. Here is what he has to say:

First, the past. He told me that late last year someone from a past relationship tried to contact me but I refused to respond. This past relationship comes up a couple of times in my cards. Not to go into it in depth, suffice it to say that it was a bad situation that ended badly and made me feel bad for about two years. This past relationship was at the center of my cards.

Now, for the future. Supposedly I'm going to start a new relationship in May that isn't going to be the destructive kind. Supposedly this person is solid, and the psychic said, "you have nothing to worry about with this person; what you see is what you get." So that sounds like a pleasant change.

In June this relationship will get a little more serious but because of that past to-do, it's going to be hard for me to trust. The psychic said once I trust myself again I can trust this new person. He also said "possible proposal" in June but didn't give any details. but if I just get into this new relationship in May, I can't imagine it's that kind of proposal. maybe I'll spend the month writing project proposals or funding proposals for JRS.

June is also a month where I will feel at most secure with my job in the next six months. Maybe I will be offered a new contract or find a new job.

July brings a "shift in my separation" with that old relationship.

August is a tough month. My contract with JRS ends July 31 and the psychic said I have to be realistic about my future and not to put hope in people at work because they don't have my best interests at heart. I have to be careful about money, which is a pretty big joke.

Finally on September I should be able to calm down a little bit and accept whatever I've for going on in work and love.

So that's what I know! Sounds like a pretty interesting six months, no? I just need to remember to look back in six months and see if he was right. If I've got a ring on my finger in six months, I'll have to go back to Key West and invite our psychic to read all your guys' cards at the wedding!

Record shopping in Hamra (part 2)

My last weekend in Lebanon, and I'm not leaving without some Arabic music – specifically, Sabah Fakhri. So I'm back on the hunt, with Andy and Gavin, searching every antique store, used book attic and overpriced record monger in town.

And I'm headed back to the man who seemed to know it all. And this time, hopefully he'd be in the country.

This particular afternoon was my first day off the wagon, after giving up drinking for Lent. Without thinking, on a late Sunday brunch date by the yacht club – that's right – in Beirut, I ordered a lemonade. My friends didn't hesitate to remind me that it was now my duty to begin drinking with them again. I switched to Almaza, and the day began. We had an overpriced, undercooked lunch, and took an overpriced cab to find a place to overpay for music. We are foreigners after all, and as David Sedaris recently reminded me, "foreigners are the lowest life form in any major city."

I noticed the record store guy immediately when I walked in. Last time I'd seen him, I was keen to impress him, as I am with any record store guy, since they are the beacons of truth in the world. They are the purveyors of x-rated 78s from the 20's, instrumental funk covers of the Beatles, pornographic 12-inch covers, and everything else I could devour since I was 14. These were the people to impress. Unfortunately, anyone who has seen "High Fidelity" knows, you can't impress them. And that is what keeps them, at least amongst their stacks of plywood crates and wax records, so coooool.

Needless to say, he wasn't impressed with my music taste last time. So I was over the moon, when we got upstairs to the record attic and he said, "Molly, right?" He remembered! I asked him about Arabic records and he pointed me to the right corner. He didn't have what I was looking for, but I managed to spend $50 anyway.

I started looking through his DJ box, the vinyl he uses in a set sometimes around town. I hadn't heard of most of it, so he put some on. Then he yelled to the man downstairs. "Hey, whiskey!"

And this is how Andy, Gavin and myself spent the afternoon – drinking whiskey out of paper cups, smoking rolled cigarettes, thumbing through vinyl and listening to some great stuff. Andy and I bought some good stuff and walked out with that same swagger I get when walking out of a tattoo parlor. It's that "Hey, look what I got, no big deal…" strut.

I feel like I won. He may not be impressed by my taste in music, but he liked me enough to liquor me up and sell me on his taste in music.