So I went to the Northern Virginia Pagan Pride Fair in late September and besides buying overpriced handburnt runes, a very pessimistic Tarot deck, two defunct pendulums, a butt naked poster of Cernunnos by a gay erotica artist that my mom side-eyed me for putting up on my deck, and like a Diet Coke, I was drawn like a moth to a flame to PSYCHIC READINGS. I’m a sucker for psychic readings because they’re like taking quizzes on my now defunct Quizilla account (oh, days long gone, how we miss them). Maybe I’m just gullible but this is a girl who believes 100% in fairies and Santa Claus, both of who I swear I’ve seen. Let me have my childish whimsy, it isn’t hurting anyone.
The first reader I went to was a shamanic angel medium who did an angel reading. According to her, my angels were Samael, Metatron – who helps with my writing – and Michael, who stands in the background as my defender. She also very accurately observed while laughing that I enjoy being outside of my body more than I like being in it, probably referring to my weekly Out of Body sleep paralysis episodes where I get to experience deeply serious visitations from spirits like a drunk Samael complaining about “Wife problems with Lilith, I don’t understand women :(” or Asmodeus saying “Your dreams are stupid Allie. As stupid as King Solomon. Man I hate that tool… I hate birds and swimming… I hate building temples… blah blah blah…” or Michael patting me on the head like a lapdog. I can’t move my body during these episodes – instead my dream-body projects outside my skin and mostly just tries to fall back to sleep and ignore all the spirits bitching, playing with my hair, or smelling like bars or, in Loki’s case, weed.
The second reader I went to was a regular medium who I loved. He was very sweet and the most accurate reader. I asked him who my spirit guides were and he gave me the funniest answers! One was a Viennese beggar boy that I danced with in my past life who was my spiritual brother – we apparently danced for pennies until I broke my ankles, which is why my ankles are weak. The second is a fiery Native American woman war chief. That last was St. Catherine. I asked about my past lives, and he said I was a famous Bavarian spiritualist and writer who wrote a famous book on German etiquette that was still widely known to this day. Through a quick Google search at home I found Adolph Knigge, a Bavarian nobleman, writer, and founder of the Illuminati. The medium said I had reincarnated into this life to be a famous author and write my magnum opus.
Do I get my Illuminati membership yet? 😛