I needed to get out of the house today, so DW and I decided to head down to the French Quarter for a few hours. She's been wanting to look around for some stones for her emerging interests in spiritual and psychic phenomena, and the Quarter is the place to go for that. She's still a little uneasy about actually walking into some of those places, so she asked me to come along.

We started at a tea room that has psychic stuff on the side--way overpriced psychic stuff. DW didn't find anything there she really wanted, so we decided to walk around for a while longer. We walked aimlessly for about 20 minutes, when I spotted Marie Laveaux's House of Voodoo on Bourbon Street. I walked straight in, and DW followed nervously behind me. We hung around there for a few minutes, then left abruptly. DW told me there was a very dark spirit in there; otherwise, she would have suggested that I have a reading done there. We made our way back up Bourbon Street to a more wicca-oriented shop. DW told the clerk I wanted a reading, but the psychic wasn't going to be there for a couple of hours. We had lunch, then found a gemstone store that had exactly what DW wanted, and for cheap at that.

I looked at my watch, and it was time for the psychic to be at that wiccan shop. We made our way back there, and I met Tom, the hippy psychic. I told the man nothing, so as to test his abilities. Tom began my reading by having me shuffle a Tarot deck. He then took my hands, closed his eyes, and felt my hands. He rubbed hard after a few minutes, then opened his eyes and examined my hands. He declared that I prefer to receive information in very practical terms, and that I learn best through hands-on experience. I don't like bullshit, and I believe in accountability. I'm open to ideas, but I also have a stubborn streak.

He then noted that I have markings for mild depression on one hand, but not on the other. We talked at some length about my depression and my treatment regime. I mentioned my anxiety and panic attacks, but he really didn't react to that. He did say that I'm on the edge of a precipice emotionally and psychologically, and that if I can make it through the next 4-6 weeks, I'll be fine in the long run.

As far as genetics, he noted cancer and heart disease from my hands, then pulled a Tarot card and said that I didn't need to worry about either, but that I shouldn't be surprised if I have Alzheimer's in my 70s. As far as careers go, he said I must have a natural business sense (I wouldn't know) and that I would make an excellent trial attorney. I already had said that I went to law school, so he knew I was an attorney.

Tom said that my hands were very rough internally and that's why he rubbed them a little harder than usual. He was surprised to find a strong spirit of compassion underneath the roughness. That is a feminine trait, and it is very unusual to find it in that measure in straight men in America.

We talked at great lengths about the boys and their issues, after I brought up autism. He placed nine Tarot cards on the table, and said "wow, you really are concerned about those boys" (the first three cards) and "well, you're really unfocused." (the second three cards). He assured me that placing them at St. Mary's was the right thing to do, and said bluntly that the boys' autistic behaviors are going to get worse. He predicted that Toby will take a brief turn for the worse in the near future, and that I need to be able to deal with that. He then brought up my anxiety and panic attacks and said that he could understand why I am having them, given the stress that I've been under the past several years.

DW decided to have him give her a reading also. I hung around the store and checked out some of the trinkets and baubles. I purchased a dharma wheel talisman necklace, which I'm wearing right now.