I cannot believe Christin. As she is back in some sort of dark patchouli smelling room, that I am pretty confident at one time or another was used for a torture chamber, getting some psychic reading from a throw back to Stevie Nicks “person”, I am here in….well…I do not even know where I am. Perhaps the living room?
The incense is so overpowering I feel like I may be at stage two lung cancer status, and I cannot see a damn thing other than weird shape animal pictures oddly displayed on the wall. You better believe that I have 911 on speed dial ready to go at the first sound of an animal sacrifice. Only Christin. Somewhere along the way Christin and I turned into the ghetto Lucy and Ethel.
I wonder if the Stevie Nicks throw back has any credentials displayed anywhere on her animal wall. I mean when I am in my doctor’s office, his credentials are easily found. Hell, even when I get a cheap 10.99 haircut at Supercuts, their credentials are displayed. This place? Not so much.
Wait…..did I just see a cat???
I did see a cat, I hope it is a cat……it has to be a cat. He just ran under the sofa. Seriously, how many Afghans can one person have?
“Here kitty, kitty, kitty.”
A beautiful black cat with a huge patch of white on his neck, peeked around from behind the sofa. “Awwwww, a cat! Come here kitty!”
I named him Nicks. Nicks came out, just purring away. Hmmmm, I wonder how Christin would feel about Nicks joining us on our trip? I scooped Nicks up while holding him in the way one holds a newborn. I am in love.
As I basking in the moment of meeting my new friend, I decided to look around. What was with all the weird animal pictures? I don’t get it. My worst fear that sooner than later Nicks would be an image on the wall. “Well, we cannot allow that to happen now can we?”
Wait. What is that? An actual normal picture of a person? Nicks jumped out of my arms as I make my way to the wall right next to the kitchen entry. A black and white picture of a young twenty something year old guy caught my attention. The picture was completely centered , surrounded by, what else, weird animal shapes. This young guy is standing in what looked like to be the front yard of this house…..and his eyes……there was something about his eyes. There is definitely a story here. Who is he? Maybe Gypsy’s son?
I glanced back at the dungeon that held Christin and the Stevie Nicks wanna be, nothing. I wonder, hmmmm, let me just see if there is anything on the back of the picture………”Jen your turn!”
Dammit Christin! Is she really going to make me go back there? Ugh! I gave her “the look” while following the scent patchouli, and figured, since I decided that Nicks would now be joining us, the least I can do is have a reading done.