A few years ago, in a quest for John Stamos’ internet lovin’, Christina Majaski and I threw down the “I’ve loved him since Full House!” and “Oh yeah? I’ve loved him since Blackie Parrish was a thing!” gauntlets. We soon realized that we were entirely too silly to fight for real, and that John Stamos should probably remain a gorgeous, Greek ideal instead of a reality. Damnit. We became friends instead.
Anyway, Christina is not only funny, she’s smart. She writes what she knows, and does it in such a way that makes you know what she knows. She makes things make sense, in that pit-of-the-stomach kind of way. Even though she’s funny, and even though she posts weird pictures of vegetable men that show up in my nightmares later, she’s writing important, hard things. How to be a mom. How to be single. How to deal with the Feels. How to deal with work. The big, hurty, scary stuff that only humor can deal with.
I gave Christina a reading a few weeks ago, and it’s noteworthy not just because it was hers, but because of what happened after. I gave her this reading, and it was good, and accurate and whatnot, and then I put my cards down.
And I could still *see* her. (for the purposes of this blog, *see* means “I could see her with whatever it is in my brain that lets me give readings. In my head, she was clear as day). I could *see* her in cute jammies with her hair all jacked and her glasses on. She was eating dry cereal and half-assing writing an article with some other screen or split-screen on something else. Half attention. I then yelled at her to stop working in her damned jammies and I *saw* her sit up straight. What the hell? I wasn’t even holding my cards at the time. They were put away.
That’s a first for me – a reading that lasts longer than the reading? You guys ever have that? Let me know.
Smooches, and also check out Christina’s Blog. Bitch is writing every day of this month. O.o Much respect. xo
Yes, but you forgot that I wrote him a letter that said, "I am your biggest fan," with a hand-drawn picture of a literal, air-blowing fan. I am pretty sure that counts for something.
I love you and all of your awesomeness, btw. Also, not in my jammies.
Very proud of your jammie-less self. 😀
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