Everything Happens for a Reason

            Laying in bed, I grabbed my laptop.  The six chocolate martinis I had the night before had pummeled my head and I was in bad shape.  I had to know more about the Clairvoyant.  Unable to tune into the universe, I opened Google. I typed, “Clairvoyant Chicago,” thinking if he gets paid two-hundred dollars to tune in to people, he must have a shingle hanging out in the universe somewhere, and today the most likely place would be the Internet.

            My search uncovered nothing about him, but the first link was for the Clairvoyant Center of Chicago.

            I clicked on the link.

            “Clairvoyant Training Begins This Month.”

            Everything happens for a reason. Everything.

            I fired off an email, waiting for the universe to respond.

            I thought about what the Clairvoyant had said about manifesting the sale of the condo, so I closed my laptop and began thinking about the joy I would experience finally being in a place of my own.  The people I would have over, for dinner, to watch movies, to have a cocktail before a night on the town. I thought about the type of space I would want, imagining large windows and a spectacular view of the city.  It would be comfortable and inviting, appear to be lived in and filled with inspiring colors and natural light.  It would be close to the grocery store, the gym, near a pool, and dry cleaner. It will be in the middle of an eclectic neighborhood with plenty of dining options, a diner for Sunday brunch, and a great bar with cool people who hang out. 

            It will be a place where people will want to come visit, linger and hang out.  It will be easy for people to get to, with plenty of easy parking in the area.   It will sustain me and rejuvenate me, inspiring me creatively.  I opened my journal and wrote down all of those qualities.

            Later that day, I went to the pool to swim. I had walked down the street passing a real estate office I’d passed hundreds of times. But this time, a sign caught my eye.  Every condo unit highlighted in the window was not for sale, but for rent.  It was the first time I’d seen anything quite like it, and I stood there for a minute, reading the details of the units.  One was in a building I had admired, and was exactly what I had envisioned – and the rental rate was at the low end of my budget, and included more than I had imagined.

            It gave me not just a sense of hope that all would work out, but I now had a place that I could visualize.

            A place that I could totally feel at home in.

            Everything happens for a reason. Everything.

The Conversation We Needed To Have

            I waited on the sidewalk outside the Violet Hour, a bar in Bucktown. A funky space with no windows and no standing room, one waits outside until a seat is available, at which point a gentleman dressed in a suit that was retro before Mad Men made the look of the ‘60s fresh again calls your cell phone. It’s an old-school bar, with true mixoligists who create drinks your grandparents would have enjoyed during prohibition.  I’d read about the Violet Hour in Chicago Magazine and had hoped to check it out. So when the Clairvoyant called suggesting we meet for an impromptu cocktail, I figured this was a sign from the universe.

            Either that, or he was reading my mind.

            We had been chatting on Grindr, and there was a good exchange of energy.  It quickly progressed to telephone chat, which I’ve come to learn is a good Grindr sign.  The banter on the phone was playful and lively. I checked his vitals: Career, check. Life goals, check. No mother issues, check. Ability to converse, check. Super smart, check. Emotional intelligence, check. Star sign, Scorpio – highly compatible.  Mercury had just come out of retrograde, and I made some reference to how it was a particularly challenging period.

            “You pay attention to that?” he asked.

            “Put it on my calendar.”

            “Do you? Why’s that?”

            “How else am I supposed to explain my customers getting all crazy at me on the phone.  Helps me hold the phone away from my ear and say, ‘What happened to your experience?’”

            “Really?  I like that.”

             “So tell me something about you.”

            “Well, I’m clairvoyant.”

            My interest was peaked.

            “So tune in and tell me something.”

            “I don’t normally do that.”

            “If you’re clairvoyant, prove it.”

            I could hear him focus his breathing.

            “You’re really ungrounded in your first chakra right now. Your first and second chakra.  Something is up with your housing. It’s totally in flux. And your second chakra, you’re acting out.  You’re acting out sexually because of it.”

I'm Back!

So I had no idea that I actually had a bit of a following until I went away to a conference this week, and people pointed out that I had stopped posting.  After not really being in the mood to write for almost a two solid years (when I started this, I was beginning to emerge, but then I got really busy with work) but in the past few weeks, clouds have cleared, and the creative juices are flowing again.  And along with that, the boys are coming at me faster than I can share.

So if you, dear reader(s), have the patience to read along and occasionally be confused, I'll do my best to fill in the boy backstory as I work to get caught up.

But for now, I'll just update the list.

Since the change of the seasons, there is:

• The Belly Dancer
• Bad Blind Date
• The Swimmer
• Development Guy
• The Veterinarian
• The Runner
• The Clairvoyant
• Airport Guy
• And, the Former Franciscan Monk now Sex Addiction Therapist

I'm headed to the West Coast in the morning for a long weekend, and maybe I'll get some backstory up.  So, welcome back.