I’ve been floating on a four-leaf clover carpet these past few days. The influence of the Irish must be thick as Guinness in the Universe right now or at least over my head. For the last few days I’ve been receiving the girlie and sensual things I want with little more energy than a hot butcher knife falling through a stick of room temperature butter.
Yesterday Henrik and I enjoyed a relaxing and early dinner on Lake Union after half a day of running the streets. We got an aisle runner for our ceremony then went next door to check on the sailboat. On the way back to Seattle we stopped for coffee and vacuum bags and ended up with an additional steam cleaner. An hour later my friend Mark was using my feet for practice hours in his reflexology training, then we got Henrik and his best man all set up for their tuxedos. Finally, it was our 5:00 dinner reservation.
Later, while nibbling on dessert, we got to talking about my good luck as of late. Feminine angels and ethereal wardrobe consultants took pity on me seeing that some jester gnome taped a Gone Fishing sign on my back. They were appalled and infused me with the most potent charm allowable to use on humans.
I then found the perfect tailor for my wedding dress and a competent dry cleaners; I found perfect wedding shoes and a new outfit for a fundraiser; I got an adhesive bra (more about this later) that will work with my dress and other delicious summer attire; and a heavenly foot reflexology treatment. All in a matter of days.
I shared my theory with Henrik: The Force was with me, the Force is a woman. For too long maybe I’ve been trying to achieve the boring, things like work and studying. But when my focus shifted to dresses, home keeping, shoes, cosmetics, shopping, and foot massage, the sky opened up for me and goodness poured down. The Force is a woman. Henrik agreed and commented that “Faith” is a female name!
Yes, The Force is a woman.