I started to watch a DVD I bought on sale. It is called “Practical Magic.” It reminded me of a phase in my younger years when I believed that I was destined to be a high priestess. I read astrology and fortune telling books I could get my hands on, marked a deck of poker cards so I could tell which one is upside down (position having different meaning) and made it my business to read my sisters’ fortune. I am sure they were humoring me but it was always fun to say “You will get a letter today, well maybe if not today tomorrow or next week.” Then the electric bill comes and I could say, “I told you, you would get mail.” My sister Cora was my loyal client. Both she and I believed in the cards’ meaning.”You will receive some money and your boyfriend loves you.” My Dad sent her $10 and her boyfriend probably told her he loved her! I know because she absolutely believed what I told her. “You will hear news today about a certain man.” The news said that President Marcos declared martial law. I kept my deck of cards under my pillow and willed it to be truthful. I kept my fortune telling book hidden as the non-believer might jinx it. I read up on spells.
One of the spells called for a strand of hair and an egg. Bury the hair of the person in the egg and then bury the egg in dirt where the person might be passing through. Someone told me that she tamed her husband that way. I think the egg is a good fertilizer and maybe the guy would stop to admire the flower that hides the egg underneath. In turn, he is nice to his wife for the healthy garden they have. Another is to take a photo of your crush, and say some abracadabra to it and put it under your pillow. I did this many times and the guys never paid me any attention. The ones that gave me attention, oh well, once they found another girl, they dropped me like a hot potato. No amount of spell could undo that! And also Paul McCartney did not know I existed.
Later on, I learned a spell from my Persian neighbor, Azzam. I went to her apartment one day to have tea and it smelled like she was having a kabob, minus the lamb. I asked her what she was doing and she told me she was casting a spell. She was casting a spell so that her ex boyfriend would give her back the Volvo he used to let her drive. I think she had a buzz because I could not understand what she was saying; maybe she was saying the spell in Farsi but I was convinced that I would burn the building down if I do the same thing. First I get 7 pieces of charcoal briquets. Then I light it when they turn into embers, I get a pinch of salt and say my spell “Oh powerful fire of the universe, go get (here you can name a certain individual) him to love me with all his heart and soul; make him marry/shack up/date me (choose one). “
You can also be very specific in your spell as you sprinkle the sea salt over the briquets as follows:“Oh powerful fire of the universe, make (NAME) give me a condo/townhouse/Gucci watch and purse/Acura/jewelry from Zales/gift certificate from Bloomingdales as symbols of his love for me.” Whatever... Okay, it may sound like a bunch of baloney, but it was really fun doing it with this gorgeous Persian drunk friend of mine!
I tried it and I ended up with granules of charcoal on my nice dining table. I was asking the universe to align the stars so that I would meet some prince disguised as a frog. Instead, I met some toads. And oh by the way, Azzam’s ex boyfriend offered me a Jaguar and a condo unit at Skyline if I would marry him. I respectfully declined the invite. I think Azzam confused the gods of spells and inserted my name on the template. I also told him that it was rude to ask to marry the friend of your ex. Kodah Hafez. (Chao!) I actually met someone during the time of my charcoal briquets spell lessons. I was driving to my ballet class and I almost rammed into a Metrobus. I stopped my car and this guy in a Rolls Royce, I am not kidding, stopped to ask me if I was okay. I was. But he followed me all the way to my condo community. The guards let him in; they probably concluded that he had to be a nice guy driving a Rolls for crying out loud. He told me his name was George Pappas. He said he was looking for someone to spoil; said he was an architect who just arrived from Saudi Arabia. I concluded that either Mr. Pappas was a butler, chauffer, or a cousin of Ted Bundy, a serial killer with good looks. I thanked him and told him I am okay; I did not invite him in, we did not exchange information, and after he left, I complained to the guards that they allowed someone without authorization to go through the gates. The epilogue in Mr. Pappas was that, I actually googled him a few minutes ago. Every George Pappas in cyberspace either looked like Reverend Sun Yung Moon; there is one who owns a “Quality Lawn Care”; one is a “Sub-lease optometrist at Sears Optical.”
Back to spells: I once had a very good friend named Molina. She liked this guy Vincent. One day, I told her that she should cast a spell on Vince. “Will it work?” I said, “You never know.” The spell called for her burning a strand of her hair in putting it in his food. “Then what?” she asked. “Then, that’s it. He will fall madly in love with you! You will be part of his body.” “Is this forever?” “Well, the point is whether you are ready to be with him. I am not really sure how long his intestines are. You know, it will travel and the spell is inside him!” She said, “You are crazy!”
A few days later, she told me that she had invited Vincent and his friend Pepe to have dinner in her place. I was invited so that we could learn how to dance Brazilian. We had the best “bacalao” a la Portuguesa, white wine, plenty of laughter and dancing. Then Molina whispered, “Now is the time.” I said, “Okay, go do it!” She made coffee in the kitchen, came back and passed the coffee in dainty, cream-colored cups. Then, Vincent complained, “Oh, what’s in my cup? There are black things floating in my coffee.” Mollina looked at me with horror. I said, “That must be the toasted saffron! Quick, give it to me.” I collected it and went with Molina to the kitchen. I was ready to burst with laughter but she gave me a horrified look, so I said, “Quick, it is not too late, spit in his coffee and then come out like normal, ok?” She was frozen with fear. “Molina chica, wake up, you need to spit in the coffee. Come on!” I went back to the living room and pretended like nothing was happening.
Molina came out with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands and handed it to Vince. We all relaxed and drank our coffee, ate the flan, continued the party. After an hour or so, Vincent said they needed to leave and we said our good-byes. I excitedly stayed behind so that Molina and I could go over what happened. “So, I said, tell me, tell me, did you spit in his coffee?” She said sadly, “No, I didn’t.” “Why not?” “I was so nervous that every time I tried to spit in the cup, it landed on the saucer and my mouth started to get dry. I gave up and I decided the coño does not deserve it!” We both started laughing. The damn spell was broken; she was no longer interested in Vincent.
Spells, like my youth, are in the past. Life is charmed to the extent that I work hard to put myself in a position to get the outcome I want. I have been told one time by a palm reader that I have a huge problem. She recommended that to cleanse me of my problem that we had to buy candles that weighed the same as I did. That would have been 110 lbs when I was in my early twenties. She was going to take the candles to the mountain and form a shape like me and she would melt it to melt my problems away. Really. My editor and I decided that it was going to be the funniest article ever if I actually went through with it. However, our newspaper went out of business before I could write my article on Madam Zorayda. Today, I weigh 130 lbs, bigger me, bigger problem. I need a spell. I do not need to burn candles; rather, I need to burn something else.
My spell should read, “Oh my ever expanding body, I will it to eat no carb...oh fire of the universe, burn calories like when I was twenty...”
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