Monday – Marie’s Antoinette
Jun. 25th, 2007 01:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about Antoinette the Voodoo Queen, who told me my fortune in New Orleans the last day of my honeymoon. She claims to be a direct descendent of Marie Laveau (it even says so on her business cards), which is quite possible. Marie had 10 children, and the city of New Orleans is probably crawling with her progeny, or at least was before hurricane Katrina pushed them to all corners of the country.
It was the middle of September in 2000. Getting my fortune told in Jackson Square happened to be one of the things on my to-do list, along with visiting the French Market and riding on a riverboat. Antoinette had her table set up right across from the Saint Louis Cathedral. She was a tall woman with milk-chocolate colored skin and long braids that she covered by a tignon, like her famous ancestress. She sat beneath a large golf umbrella with her tarot cards and small bottles of magic potions on the table in front her, ready to do business. Her demeanor was friendly and business like. I asked her price, then sat across from her and put the money on her table. She accepted in and got to work.
"What are you?" she asked me, "Where are your ancestors from?"
I told her most of my ancestors are from Sweden.
"Swedish? Hmmm. Those are quite people?"
I told her that generally, yes, Swedes are very quite people.
"Hmm, that explains it," she said, "You got a spirit guide that follows you around, but I almost didn't see it. It's very quite. I read an Italian lady the other day and her spirit guide was loud. It was a big, Sicilian fat woman and it came out at me shouting," she made a talking motion with her hand, "and I couldn't get it to shut up. Yours is really silent, though. It stands in the background and doesn't anything. But it's proud of you and the path you're on. It approves of you."
Good to know. It also might explain why I've never heard from it. If my spirit guide had come from one of my Irish ancestors it might be more lively. It makes sense that a Swedish spirit guide doesn't guide me much, since it would be really self-conscious about disturbing me in any way.
"Also," she said, "You got an unborn spirit following you around, waiting to be born. I think you should know this. Don't worry, it's not in a hurry."
I glanced over my shoulder, almost expecting to see an apparition of a baby floating above me. Poor kid, he had to trail me for another 5 years before I brought him into the world. I hope he thinks it was worth it.
"And this man here," she said, pointing to Jeff, "Lord, he's good looking! He looks just like a Kennedy! He loves you very much. He thinks the world of you. You did well with him." I looked over at my new husband. He looked perplexed about the whole Kennedy thing. It was at least the third time a woman in New Orleans had made that comment about him. Each time it happened I told him to take it as a complement because Kennedy men are known for their good looks, almost as much as they are known for their womanizing and drinking.
"I know," I told Antoinette with a grin, "That's why I married him." I meant both for the fact that he adored me and the fact that he was nice looking.
"He's gonna treat you good, don't you worry."
She read my cards and my palm, but I don't recall what was revealed. The silent Swede of a spirit guide, too shy to guide much, the unborn spirit and the news that Jeff loved me are all that stuck in my mind. Before I left her table, she dabbed a few of her potions on my wrist, including one to bring me wealth and some genuine Love Potion #9 from Marie's own recipe. After we were done, Jeff and I walked back to our hotel to pack up our bags and return to Houston.
A couple of years later I read an article about the city of New Orleans cleaning up Jackson Square and requiring the vendors who worked there to pay a fee in order to keep out the riffraff and make the place more family friendly. Antoinette was one of the ousted vendors complaining about the new policy, and her picture was even in the paper accompanying the story. I hoped she put a hex on the city officials, because as far as I'm concerned that spot in front of the Saint Louis Cathedral is hers and hers alone. Maybe Katrina washed away whatever vendor who dared to get the official license and claim her spot there.
One of these days I hope to visit New Orleans and see if I can find her again. I want to ask her if my silent spirit guide has anything to say to me yet. I also want to show her my son and ask her, "That unborn spirit you saw last time – did it look anything like this?"
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
It was the middle of September in 2000. Getting my fortune told in Jackson Square happened to be one of the things on my to-do list, along with visiting the French Market and riding on a riverboat. Antoinette had her table set up right across from the Saint Louis Cathedral. She was a tall woman with milk-chocolate colored skin and long braids that she covered by a tignon, like her famous ancestress. She sat beneath a large golf umbrella with her tarot cards and small bottles of magic potions on the table in front her, ready to do business. Her demeanor was friendly and business like. I asked her price, then sat across from her and put the money on her table. She accepted in and got to work.
"What are you?" she asked me, "Where are your ancestors from?"
I told her most of my ancestors are from Sweden.
"Swedish? Hmmm. Those are quite people?"
I told her that generally, yes, Swedes are very quite people.
"Hmm, that explains it," she said, "You got a spirit guide that follows you around, but I almost didn't see it. It's very quite. I read an Italian lady the other day and her spirit guide was loud. It was a big, Sicilian fat woman and it came out at me shouting," she made a talking motion with her hand, "and I couldn't get it to shut up. Yours is really silent, though. It stands in the background and doesn't anything. But it's proud of you and the path you're on. It approves of you."
Good to know. It also might explain why I've never heard from it. If my spirit guide had come from one of my Irish ancestors it might be more lively. It makes sense that a Swedish spirit guide doesn't guide me much, since it would be really self-conscious about disturbing me in any way.
"Also," she said, "You got an unborn spirit following you around, waiting to be born. I think you should know this. Don't worry, it's not in a hurry."
I glanced over my shoulder, almost expecting to see an apparition of a baby floating above me. Poor kid, he had to trail me for another 5 years before I brought him into the world. I hope he thinks it was worth it.
"And this man here," she said, pointing to Jeff, "Lord, he's good looking! He looks just like a Kennedy! He loves you very much. He thinks the world of you. You did well with him." I looked over at my new husband. He looked perplexed about the whole Kennedy thing. It was at least the third time a woman in New Orleans had made that comment about him. Each time it happened I told him to take it as a complement because Kennedy men are known for their good looks, almost as much as they are known for their womanizing and drinking.
"I know," I told Antoinette with a grin, "That's why I married him." I meant both for the fact that he adored me and the fact that he was nice looking.
"He's gonna treat you good, don't you worry."
She read my cards and my palm, but I don't recall what was revealed. The silent Swede of a spirit guide, too shy to guide much, the unborn spirit and the news that Jeff loved me are all that stuck in my mind. Before I left her table, she dabbed a few of her potions on my wrist, including one to bring me wealth and some genuine Love Potion #9 from Marie's own recipe. After we were done, Jeff and I walked back to our hotel to pack up our bags and return to Houston.
A couple of years later I read an article about the city of New Orleans cleaning up Jackson Square and requiring the vendors who worked there to pay a fee in order to keep out the riffraff and make the place more family friendly. Antoinette was one of the ousted vendors complaining about the new policy, and her picture was even in the paper accompanying the story. I hoped she put a hex on the city officials, because as far as I'm concerned that spot in front of the Saint Louis Cathedral is hers and hers alone. Maybe Katrina washed away whatever vendor who dared to get the official license and claim her spot there.
One of these days I hope to visit New Orleans and see if I can find her again. I want to ask her if my silent spirit guide has anything to say to me yet. I also want to show her my son and ask her, "That unborn spirit you saw last time – did it look anything like this?"
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-25 07:21 pm (UTC)I got a reading from a man across from St. Louis Cathedral about 10-11 years ago. He told me that my short, medium-sized fingers meant lack of intelligence. Apparently my female counterpart on the trip had longer, slender fingers than I did and she was smarter. I don't remember anything else about the reading after that. :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-06-25 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-25 08:26 pm (UTC)As far as I'm concerned, dudes only go to NO to drink, eat, go to concerts, and exchange X-rated peeps for beads. :-)
(Or that's what I tell myself.)
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Date: 2007-06-27 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 01:22 am (UTC)That's all I remember from my reading.
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Date: 2007-06-27 06:24 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-06-26 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-06-27 06:35 pm (UTC)