I apologize to anyone who’s been waiting for real palmistry stories to get real. I had planned to pour myself into my blog when I returned from Norway this summer. Instead, I got caught up in making money.

Being a full-time professional palmist is a fascinating career; however, it can be erratic, mainly because it’s seasonal. My busiest season is from late September until late December. Large corporations have many more holiday parties and special events in the fall. I often read hands at two or three events and sometimes up to five or six events a week. At five minutes per person, I can read up to three hundred people in a week. My private clients also seem to call more for consultations during this period. I consult with up to ten a week. In addition, I give workshops, speak, and write about palmistry. When there’s money to be made, there’s not a lot of time left for speculative activities – like this blog.

Last week, I worked some pretty diverse events. The first was a conference for about fifty financial traders from Thailand. No matter their age, I observed a strong cultural paradigm that showed up in nearly everyone’s hands. They all had inwardly curving pinkie fingers. Thai people are known for being “nice” and this was easily explained by the curve in their pinkies. They were taught by their parents and culture to not be confrontational.

My next job was a fundraising and employee recognition event for an old age home. I didn’t read any old people, but I did observe a lot of employees with large balls of the thumb and short index fingers. I’ve seen a ton of social workers with that combo. They settle for less than they’re capable of having and give more than they’re getting for themselves. I try to be especially kind, helpful, and supportive with givers.

Finally, I worked at a Bar Mitzvah. I’d sworn off Bar and Bat Mitzvahs some years ago, but it’s hard to resist $1000 for 4 hours work, so I accepted the challenge. As always, it was too noisy and hectic, but the kids were polite and the adults were gracious.

Many years ago, I was hired to read hands at a sweet thirteen-birthday party at a fancy country club in New Jersey. The birthday girl’s father must have spent $250,000.00 competing with his Jewish neighbor’s Bat Mitzvah party. I worked my usual four-hour session. As I packed up to get ready to go to another party in Manhattan, the host showed up, demanding that I read his hands. I explained, “Sorry, I’m finished and in a hurry to get to another job.” “You don’t understand”, he bellowed, “I’m the one who’s paying you.” I politely made clear that the party planner who had hired me had already paid me. “Then I’ll stop payment on his check”, he snapped back. Alienating an event planner was the last thing I needed, so I re-plugged in my lighted magnifying glass saying, “OK, hold up your hands”.

“Go ahead, tell me how fucked up I am,” he said. I stared at his hands, not knowing how to respond. He had square palms and short, square, very stiff fingers with knotty joints. His long crooked middle finger on his dominant hand had lots of peripheral lines crisscrossing in every direction beneath it and his nails were bitten down. “I won’t tell you that you’re fucked up, but I will tell you what is fucked up. You’ve worked so unbelievably hard for everything you have and you don’t have a clue how to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You’re a frustrated perfectionist, self-critical, and extremely critical of others. You need to lighten up and smell the roses.” He sat silently for a moment, and then stood up. As he walked away he said, “That’s enough. They said you were good and they were right.”

After working on my Real Palmistry blog for over a year, I edited and transformed it into my Real Palmistry e-book. I planned to structure real palmistry stories the same way so that I could easily turn them into another book; however, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to tell whatever stories I feel like telling in whatever ways I feel like telling them and I’m not going to concern myself about what I’m going to do with them.

Winter is my slowest time of year. From January until the end of March, there are very few parties and not many private readings. It’s my favorite time to write. Hopefully, I’ll be more consistent in my blogging, but if not, please be patient. I’ll be making money.