I am married and a housewife. I enjoy being at home in my small cozy cabin. My favorite dinners are cooked by my husband on the barbecue. He is excellent at cooking meats, and sometimes I say, “that's why I married him.”


No really, I use to have dreams of this sexy man. I walked into a McDonald's and I saw this incredible looking guy reading the menu. I stood behind him in the empty restaurant and sneezed. There was no respond. I worked up enough nerve to inquire, if he was standing in line, and he said I could go ahead of him. I got my food and went and jumped into my wreck of a car.


I said out loud, “God you know my heart, now it is up to the Fates.” This gorgeous guy with great legs and long curly hair came out and got into his truck with personalized plates. He drove away and didn't seem to notice me. So, I went home and saw the truck parked across my street and he happened to be my neighbor.


We finally met months later, which was the first week in November of 1998. I eventually went over, knocked on his door, and invited him over to have a home cooked meal. He had already eaten, but he would come over anyway. He brought his friend with him, so I read his tarot cards.


I knew his mother had been married three times, and that one of her ex-husbands' had died and he was American. I knew his step father was in the media business. I saw that his brother was married and a lawyer. I also said that he was going to get a call from his brother to announce the conception of his nephew. I predicted he'll marry and have a little girl himself. A week later, his friend came across the street with a fax. It was news that his brother was expecting a baby, it was born a boy.


I said, “I told you so.” And, he said, “it wasn't a phone call.” But, don't you use the phone to send a fax? I bit my tongue. I was the girl he married, because we have a daughter together.